Dragon’s Modern Meeting

The sound of clicking fills the hallway as two figures walk nearly in-sync with each other.

“Cynthia, what’s after this?” One of the two, a handsome gentleman, questions. The other figure, being a youthful woman next to him, looks up at him without blinking.

“You have a molten spa, sir,” She responds without missing a beat.

“Seriously, Cyan? No jokes or witty remarks…?” He prods at Cynthia, playfully flicking her pointed ear.

She shoots him an unamused look while rubbing the ear’s stinging sensation. “Really, sir? Acting like we are a fledgling? Aren’t we too old for that?”

“Yes and no. Cut it out with formalities and I won’t act like that. You have known me for far too long to call me sir.”

Cynthia sighs. “Fine, Theodore. Happy?”

“Yes, yes, I am. Finally, having the Cynthia I used to crack jokes with. The Cynthia I do appreciate to hear from time to time!” Theodore happily buzzes, pulling Cynthia into a side hug.

“Theodore…” she grits through her teeth, ever-so slightly tightening her grip on the documents she was holding.

“Cyan, take your own advice and chill out. You have been busting your ass helping me get ready for this meeting,” he says while giving her a pat on the back before grabbing some of the documents from her.

“Now, you have done more than my actual secretary would do. I want you to do me this favor for me…” he lectures, before pausing and placing the keys into her hands while taking the last of the papers away from her.

“But-!” Cynthia chimes in before Theodore silences her.

“No buts, or another thing on the matter. You go do human chimera things, which would be anything until this meeting is over!” he instructs, as they stop at the intersection of the next hallway.

“There is money wired to your account if you want anything, but knowing you by now…” he trails, shrugging on the matter.

“Fine, but if you need anything, and I mean anything, I want you, mister maestro, to call me ASAP!” she agrees reluctantly before turning on her heels and heading toward the nearest elevator.

Before being out of earshot of Theodore, she shouts, “If you don’t and I hear about it, your father isn’t going to be the only one chewing you out! You know I’ll be faster about the issue than those Mach-five vehicles you ogle over, and that’s a promise, Theodore! Also, remember to play nice!” she ends with an “I’m watching you” gesture, a thumbs-up, a smile, and a laugh.

Theodore gulps and waves her off until she’s out of sight before turning around and making his way down the hallway.

“That girl… She cares, but she’s scary… She’s the pure embodiment of scary, when she wants to be.” he mutters as he comes to a stop at a set of double doors, shifts the documents underneath his being, and uses his one free arm to open one of the doors. He slips inside the room. The room is decently packed with fancy-dressed men and women talking among themselves.

Setting his documents down at a spot at the large rounded conference table reserved for himself, he shuffles the papers near the neatly written lettering that is clearly typed.

“’Ey, Theodore!” a voice greets him, lightly patting him on the back. Theodore shifts his eyes away from the person.

“Hello, Genos,” Theodore greets, looking far from happy to see him.

“Where’s your shadow?” Genos teases with a smirk on his face, glancing over and around Theodore.

“Busy,” Theodore answers with a clipped tone.

“She’s busier than your actual secretary. Geez… Anymore help from her and she really should consider a career change from designer to personal wi-- secretary.”

Theodore’s eyebrow and knuckles twitch, as the clown next to him chuckles at his own joke.

“Honestly, Genos. Did you come over here to rub it in, or be an arrogant ass over the fact of having a wife?” Theodore mutters while seething out each word, along with a low crackle and small amounts of steam leaving his nose.

Genos coughs away the last of his amusement.

“So, you have heard about that…?”

Theodore looks at Genos, before quietly muttering, “Of course.”

“This meeting is probably about the premise of that and the future of us. Especially, you Theodore,” a gentleman with a formal suite on and his hair styled into a ponytail decorated with a cherry blossom clip and unnatural snowy color says.

Theodore releases a huff of steam and nods toward the man.

“’Ey, Flower Shop!” Genos greets.