Work Text:
Vivian thinks Lycaon is something like a curse– a creeping presence that is as overwhelming as it is a nuisance.
Hugo's dog appeared essentially overnight and hasn't left his side since, whether Hugo liked it or not.
And he didn't, at first... like it.
But now, for whatever reason, he does.
Something feels off. He's hiding something, they both are. Hugo has gone soft, he doesn't question the things he usually would, he's lost his focus on revenge and with it, his edge.
And it all comes back to Lycaon.
She decides to follow him when she can. Half of the time he's with Hugo, which doesn't give her much information on his motives, but the other half... he stalks around at night, sometimes exchanges things at the lockers near the Ballet Twins, and other times simply stands in place outside of various buildings, a sentinel coated in white fur and haughty poise.
It's all suspicious, she can't pinpoint one thing. He conceals the items he exchanges, he always speaks low and hushed when talking to others, his expression never breaks or shutters, always threateningly polite. She's getting nothing out of this, but day by day, she persists.
She just can't let him betray Hugo again. He wouldn't survive it a second time.
-
Hugo isn't exactly innocent himself. His meetings with Lycaon border on excessive, and he never talks about what they're doing or why. He has his own secrets, and she's always respected that, but this is different.
"I'm meeting a buyer for lunch Viv," Hugo half-shouts through the phone, his voice a broken mess that tears through the poor reception. "Can you do the pick-up for me?"
Vivian sighs. It's always a call about work, and never just a chat. Out of petty indignation, she absolutely refuses to filter herself.
"Is dear Lycaon also attending this lunch like he does every other meal of yours now?"
There's a loud roar of engines, some cars rushing past on Hugo's end of the line. He must be at Lumina Square, walking through traffic.
"What did you say? Lycaon called?" he shouts.
Typical. "Ugh no, nevermind."
"Chin up, kid," he says, sounding clearer this time. "This could be a huge acquisition for us. I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow."
‘Fine ,’ she thinks, hanging up without actually responding. He'll be too busy to notice anyway.
She can't help but wonder if he would even bother to call her and tell her things like this about Mockingbird if he didn't specifically need her help with something. Even giving her a task with a higher level of responsibility, treating her like an equal or–
Probably not. She knew things would change with the reintroduction of the mutt into their lives, just maybe not this fast.
She can't let it get out of hand.
--
Lilac is nice, but she's young, and it isn't the same as it is with Hugo. She's sweet, she likes a lot of the same things Vivian likes, reads the same, erm, novels, and she even appreciates Vivian's unofficial Phaethon photocard collection.
But she doesn't crinkle her nose the way Hugo does when he laughs without trying to hide it. She doesn't verbally rip people to shreds with the same voracity as Hugo, doesn't indulge in those illicit moments of needless bitchiness that always seem to lift the both of their spirits at the end of a long day.
She's nice, and a good friend, she's just... different.
After her stint with the exaltists, the blurred line between friends and family has become more and more difficult to see and control. It's a tedious path to tread with someone you haven't known your whole life, but Hugo just makes it so easy.
She would never imply to Hugo that she sees herself as a sister to him, not with his complicated family history, but not everything needs to be said out loud. She knows he cares, at least a little.
But Lycaon isn't even in Mockingbird. In fact, he has his own little mongrel crew of thirens and weirdos to take care of.
‘Yeah, more found family for Hugo to replace you with,’ she thinks.
Hugo would never leave Mockingbird for Victoria Housekeeping, she knows that much. It's more that Lycaon seems to enjoy having his paws in both pies, so to speak, and Vivian doesn't like it. It's unprofessional, and as much as the Mayflowers may have helped in taking down the Ravenlock family, they are still fundamentally enemies on paper.
Enemies that should absolutely not be having brunch together on lazy Sunday mornings.
She has to act. This is too dangerous, reckless on Hugo's part, and it has to stop.
-
Vivian stomps her way towards the walkway at Ballet Twins Road, careful not to twist her ankle on all the messy debris that no one ever bothers to clear back here, particularly this late at night. An ominous locale for an ominous encounter. She didn't feel like crying before she left, at least. Not yet.
She'd been following Lycaon for the better part of the evening. Mostly to make sure Hugo wouldn't make a surprise appearance, but also to find a good spot to corner him in. A spot just like this, all dark corners and disarray, a contrast to his otherwise frustratingly polished exterior.
His ear twitches as she approaches, hearing the click of her heels first, and he turns with an infuriatingly open and pleasant look when he recognizes her, although it falls when she comes close enough for him to see her expression.
She hasn't thought this through all the way. She should have rehearsed something, maybe desensitised herself by looking at images of sad puppies on Inter-Knot so she'd be less affected by this... face he's decided to make.
"Miss Vivian, is everything-"
She points a viciously sharp nail at him, about as much of a threat as a lamb to a wolf, but she holds firm regardless.
"If you ever hurt Hugo, I will personally scalp you with the thousand-denny butter knives you polish all day."
She says it all in one breath, and it sinks in slowly that she can't take it back now.
Lycaon blinks. "Understood," he says simply.
"Good," she replies, her heart pounding. There's a reason she excels as a phantom thief- face-to-face confrontations have never been her forte.
Fixing her posture and feeling a bit more in control she turns, ready to walk away. Her point has been made.
"Miss Vivian," Lycaon calls out, stopping her as she moves. "May I ask what brought this about?"
"Hmf. No you may not."
She picks up her pace with a flip of her hair, and no, she is not running, she's just got places to be.
-
With the way Hugo talked about the mutt in the past, Vivian had expected them to be unable to even coexist within the same greater metropolitan area, nevermind spending nearly every waking moment together the way they do now.
It seemed to hold up at first. They fought alone or in public, it didn't matter where or when. Hugo would often arrive from a freshly opened wound of an argument like an angry dove - all stomping steps and ruffled feathers, refusing to move out of anyone's way.
It was amusing, she'll admit. But there was often an undercurrent of real pain behind Hugo's words that made it significantly less so. The betrayal Hugo felt was always so very real. Even if she didn't witness it herself- or didn't even fully understand what happened- she could feel it through Hugo and the shaky, uncertain voice he'd sometimes have when he spoke about it.
Stupid man wore his heart on his sleeve for years and forgot that it's still there for Lycaon to pick up right where he left off.
Now they don't even fight anymore. They bicker, sure, but they might as well be holding hands while they do it. For every insult, there's a silent but glaringly obvious gloss of praise painted over it.
When a simple, "you're a terrible actor," sounds more like, "I've missed you", then there's a problem. Hugo is blinded by nostalgia, and Vivian refuses to allow him to fall back into that particular pit of memories.
-
Hugo invites Vivian over for dinner. It's take-out, nothing fancy, but she'll take whatever attention from him that she can get. It's the first time they've met outside of work for a while now.
Vivian knows a trap when she sees one, and she’s on alert the minute she steps into Hugo’s apartment. The lights are dim, but there's Hugo, facing her in the dark like the grim reaper, ready to strike in the slowest, most torturous way.
The light next to her flickers on on its own before she moves towards the living room. Hugo sits on his sofa, ankle resting on one knee, leaning his face against his hand on the arm rest. He's got that half cocked smile on, the one that always reminds Vivian of the way snakes curl around their prey to squeeze the life out of them. He's twirling something in his other hand, but it isn't a coin like usual.
It's a butter knife. Shit.
"Oh, Vivian? Tell me, have you ever scalped someone with one of these?" He spins the knife between his fingers, his voice dangerously sweet. "I hear it's rather brutal, imagine the mess."
"What a ridiculous question," Vivian bites back, "Where's the food please?"
He drops the pretense, spinning the knife to now point its decidedly blunt edge at her.
"Don't act like you're innocent. Why did you threaten Lycaon out of nowhere?"
She slumps dramatically with a soft thud as she falls to Hugo's floor near his coffee table. He has this ridiculously expensive and fluffy rug that she loves, even more than his opulent velvet sofa, but now the soft white fur just reminds of her Lycaon. ‘Hmph, I could make a rug for myself,’ she thinks darkly.
Hugo is still staring at her, looking like the cat that caught the canary, his mouth a smug, dangerous tilt.
And then it hits her suddenly, a wash of self pity– Hugo didn't invite her here to spend time with her. He invited her just to scold her for this, to call her out. He actually hates her, what an awful person, how could he–
Her face crumples and she starts to cry, completely intentional, ugly wails that she's too tired to keep under control.
"You... y-you hate me, you're so mean to me Hugo–"
Hugo gawks at her, and tosses the knife onto the table in front of her. She's pushing her luck, she knows it, and she's suddenly so afraid, ‘please I'm sorry, don't tell me to leave.’
"Don't be ridiculous," he says gently. "I'm only teasing you."
Hugo dips his head to look at her, and the sincere concern in his expression makes her break.
"N-no, you'll get Lycaon to rejoin Mockingbird, and then- and then I'm useless to you and you'll disappear," her voice trails off at the end, hoarse from crying and strained from trying to suppress the tears. She's always hated crying in front of people, for more than one reason, but Hugo once told her it's always better out than in. Still, it's frustrating trying to make a point when you're halfway to hyperventilating.
Hugo leans forward, elbows on his knees, and he looks at her with this firm yet somehow inexplicably gentle expression.
"I am not leaving you," he says clearly. "You are a part of mockingbird until you decide you aren't."
Stupid face- it crumples again, mostly because she knows he's being sincere.
"But you like him more than me."
Hugo takes a deep, exhausted breath.
"Vivian, I have room in my cold, dead little heart for more than one person. And no, that does not mean you get pushed to the side so that you occupy less space. If anything, the space for you has only grown."
"Are y-you calling me fat?" she whispers pitifully.
Acting cute is a cheap shot, but it works. Hugo rolls his eyes, but he can't hide the smirk. She awards herself the tiniest of smiles for this.
Hugo clears his throat. "But Lycaon is... special to me," he says, his tone soft.
Vivian scowls. "He betrayed you."
"Yes, but... also no."
She sniffles involuntarily as she digests this, and Hugo takes it as an opening to slip down off the sofa onto the rug. He settles in front of her, grabbing her knees to turn her so she's forced to face him.
"You know I'm not the most affectionate or loving person. But I do love you, Vivian. You and I both have our own issues with family, but you are the closest thing I've got--" he swallows, and the slight tremble in his voice makes Vivian tear up again."You are more important to me than you know."
Hugo blinks away the glisten in his eyes, says, "I've only ever told one other person that I love them, you know."
"Lycaon," she says, but she frowns. Something still feels off.
"Yes," Hugo replies with a deep sigh. He takes a wistful look up toward the ceiling. "Your stylish and cunning leader's pathetic, painfully awkward first love."
She blinks. It clicks so suddenly that she swears she can hear the snap. "Wait, like in love?"
Hugo nods, looking terribly vulnerable as he scans her face for a reaction. It's as though he's bracing for a hit, another rejection from someone who's meant to love him. Vivian now thinks she truly would scalp anyone who hurt him with a dull blade, quite easily.
"But you hated him," she gently reminds.
Hugo shrugs with one shoulder. "I can love him and hate him at the same time, believe it or not. I know- news to me as well."
"Are you two... together, then?" she asks.
"Not... quite? We're still figuring all that out."
Vivian has never been all that good at apologies, but she manages a quiet, "m'sorry," which seems to be enough for Hugo. If nothing else, his smiles seem a little lighter after they talk, a weight lifted.
-
Vivian still follows them from time to time. Not for any ill intentions, 'it's just a habit now, okay?' And anyway, she had to see it for herself, had to make sure Hugo wasn't just seeing what he wanted to see while Lycaon took advantage of him.
Lycaon's expressions are admittedly hard to read, but he's reserved enough that it's easy to notice when he breaks away from the otherwise stoic professionalism. The way his eyes go soft when Vivian catches him brushing the backs of his fingers against Hugo's cheek. Being a bit nosy has this downside - seeing things that were never meant to be seen by others. None of that is really anything new for her, except this time it'll be life changing in a positive way if it's real.
So when she sees that same brush of fingers trail down to tip Hugo's head back by his chin, it doesn't surprise her that Lycaon leans down to kiss him. Even if he were faking it all, Vivian wouldn't be able to tell. What does surprise her though is how Hugo reacts to it - almost no response apart from complete, blissful acceptance. Vivian thinks about kissing Belle sometimes, and then realizes it would be impossible to do so since she would more than likely explode before Belle even got close enough. There's no way she'd be as composed as Hugo is now.
But Hugo... being this close to Lycaon seems natural to him. If anything, Lycaon looks to be the one most affected, nuzzling the side of Hugo's face with his own after the kiss. It's intimate enough to make her face feel hot, but it's worth it to see what might be the most genuinely happy smile she's ever seen spread across Hugo's face.
Maybe some curses don't need breaking.