prohibitions | When love became an act of defiance

Abel Emil Remington. He was a terribly successful man and at such a young age too. A successful businessman and has a certain talent in politics. A prodigy in magic. From his family to himself, no one can deny that the man is nothing but gifted, successful, and seems to have everything he could ever need or want.

A large file had been given to Jonathan detailing everything about the man from official documentation to medical files to his daily schedule and his agenda for the upcoming month. It wasn't so much a bodyguard job but more being a valet for a public figure with high ranking. It was a ridiculously well paying job where it really boiled down to making sure a "spoiled brat actually followed his schedule" or so it was worded.

Jonathan was lead to a lavish and spacious room that was connected to Abel's room. It was already furnished and basically had anything the other might need. It was mentioned a maid would be dropping off dinner at six and that there was a door with no locks that lead to Abel's own room.

If Jonathan settles down and decides to check on Abel, he'll find a simplistic room. It was a stark difference to the more antiquated look the estate had. It was more modern with a minimalist look (there also seemed to be far little in terms of personal belongings). The man in question was sitting at his desk with countless paper floating around him as he looked over documents.

There was a rather sad look to the man. Despite his young age, there was a certain age in his eyes that one shouldn't have and there didn't seem to be any life in them if one were being honest. He just looked tired and rather sad.

He doesn't even look up from his paper when the other enters. Doesn't greet the other in anyway. It seems like he doesn't bother to acknowledge Jonathan's presence at all.

If Jonathan was being honest, he wasn't sure what to entirely expect when he accepted the role, thinking it was just another bodyguard role that he was accustom to. When a large file was handed over to him, he realized it was much more than that. He had never been given so much responsibly before but with the pay as high as it was and the stability of the position, he really couldn't complain.

Of course, he had kept certain aspects of his own nature hidden for the time being. Jonathan had experienced enough employers reactions to the mention of being a werehyena to be treated very differently from other members of staff and with a particular job like this, he didn't need that straight out of the gate. Even if his odd eye color was bound to cause suspicions.

As he was led to the room in which he would be calling home for as long as he was contracted for, the decor wasn't something he was used to at all. The room itself was bigger than most of the rooms back in his apartment and he's going to have to have his family house sit for him for the foreseeable future. He did think about bringing his birds along, it would be something to remind him of home without lugging unnecessary belongings.

After while, once he tried to make some decent headway on the file he was given, he does go to check on Abel and introduce himself. Giving the door a few knocks to announce his arrival before he poked his head and stepped fully inside. 'Spoiled brat' wasn't what he would use to describe Abel at all. Jonathan had seen 'spoiled brat', hell he's dealt with protecting truly spoiled people. This wasn't one.

Or at least, it didn't seem like it.

He can't help but linger by the door as he glanced around the room and to the man himself. Perhaps he stares at the other longer than he should of but his presence was never acknowledged so he steps closer, hands pulled behind his back until he was a couple feet away. The sad and tired look was more prominent once he stood closer, he almost gives the other a sympathetic look.

"Sorry to bother you while you're working, Sir, but I wanted to introduce myself since I'll be staying in the room next door to yours..."

Abel was a sharp dressed man. A nicely pressed dress shirt and a three piece suit, although his jacket was draped on the back of the armchair he was sitting in. It didn't seem like he cared much for accessorizing other than the two bracelets on his wrists. Closer inspection, if one could tell by the engravings, the bracelets were magic suppressors.

Things seemed quite off already if Jonathan could recognize them for what they are.

"I'll simply care more about your name and who you are if you happen to still be employed by the end of the month," he said without even bothering to look up from the papers in his hand. His voice was cold. Emotionally detached. Perhaps purposely meant to come off as someone who considered himself better than the other. "You've gone and made yourself known. You can simply leave now. I have better things to do than entertain you," Abel said curtly.

Well, the man certainly wasn't interested in playing friendly at all. Of course, he was sure that his father had painted some wonderfully awful picture of him. Abel was also someone who easily decided to be just that if that's how his father was going to portray him.

Magic wasn't Jonathan's strong suit, compared to say his brother's knowledge on the subject, so while the engravings looked slightly familiar from what he was taught, he thought nothing of them. Magic itself wasn't an everyday occurrence for him and perhaps this warranted further investigation.

This is definitely not the first time someone has said that to him nor in such a tone, definitely wouldn't be the last but there's a hint of a smirk in the corner of his mouth before he reaches into his suit breast pocket to fetch a business card from within.

The card was very simple. All it had was his name, primary occupation and a number with what would appear as a strange family crest on the back.

He wasn't expecting the other to be friendly right off the bat, if what Abel's father's painted picture was anything to go by but that didn't sully what his first impressions nor his expectations were. If his father had difficulties keeping a valet for his son, there had to more factors at play here and if anything, Jonathan saw it as a challenge now.

He outlived others in most of his contracts anyway, this wouldn't be at all different. It was simply a waiting game and he had all the patience in the world for it or so it would seem and he felt confident in his ability to stay much longer than Abel's estimate of him.

Jonathan placed the card on Abel's desk, setting it on one of the documents he had laid out before he turned on his heel to leave, "I look forward to surprising you. I'll be checking on you in the evening, Sir."

He stuck to being as formal as possible, if the other didn't want to be bothered, he was going to do his best to respect that. As he made his way back to the door that separated their respective spaces, he glances back at the other before opening it, "Do remember to take a break at some point." He calls out before walking into his room and closing the door behind him, not bothering to wait and see if the other would reply.

Jonathan spent the time leading up to dinner reading Abel's file. By the time the maid had knocked on his door, papers were laid out across the floor and the bed as he went through them. He planned to leave that night to go pack up a few of his things to bring over including his birds but that could wait until after he had eaten. He found the contents of the file to be fascinating, making sense of Abel's father's ridiculous expectations of him if his schedule and filled agenda for the month was anything to go by. He lingered on Abel's medical files for the longest amount, you could find out a lot by those alone and he noted the other's psychic abilities as something to be relatively cautious around.

Abel pauses after the other leaves and glances at the card. Of course, he just tosses into the trash almost immediately. He had very little interest in playing friendly with whoever his father had hired this time to put him in line. Just because he was stuck in this certain hell doesn't mean he had any intention of being whatever bitch his father wanted him to be.

Abel's schedule seemed rather full, although there were plenty of activities the man simply never bothered to go to and were written in red. His medical records were mostly clean other than that single trip in his younger years. it seemed he was mostly healthy. That, or they probably had a doctor on the grounds and didn't regularly need to go to a hospital unless the situation asked for it.

There's a polite knock on Jonathan's door when dinner comes around. The maid is a gentle woman who brings Jonathan and Abel's meals. She greets the other and tells the other if there's anything in particular that he would ever like to eat to let them know and welcomes him into the household.

Today's meal is a stew and rice and she also had brought a pot of tea with an assortment of additions to go with it to fit anyone's fancy along with a flan for dessert. She smiles and earnestly asks him to try and convince the other to eat before pushing the cart off to the next rooms and leaving the other.

Very little has changed with Abel other than it looked like most of his paperwork had finally been dealt with for the night. He was, of course, still working though. The room smelled stronger of vanilla and there was currently a lit cigarette sitting in the ash tray on his desk. The only sounds was his pen scratching against paper as he wrote and the occasional sound of china as he sipped his cold tea.

He looked more like he needed rest than anything else, honestly.

Jonathan had chimed in that the door was open, only to scramble to scooped up a lot of the papers he had laying on the floor as soon as he realizes who was at the door, clearing a path for the maid to place the dinner tray on the table, holding them close to his chest as he thanked her for welcoming him after he had introduced himself as well as promising that he'd try.

He does ask before she leaves if Abel always looked so... sad and tired all the time before watching her head further down the hall, closing the door behind him. Its probably embarrassing how fast he downs the stew, usually he constantly has to eat something throughout the day due to his ridiculous metabolism and today was a road bump in that part of his schedule. Definitely going to have to accommodate for it in the future.

With the pot of tea and Abel's food placed on the tray, he knocks again on the door between their rooms before immediately being hit with what felt like a cloud of vanilla as he opened the door. He remembers the other's room smelling as sweet but not to this degree that it was almost overpowering. Jonathan shakes his head before walking over and placing the tray on another table off to the side near the wall from Abel's desk where the man was still working and looking more tired than he had seen him earlier.

After what the maid had told him, he makes it a point to remain in the room until he watched the other eat something, anything.

"Dinner is served, sir." He says as polite as before while he leans himself up against the wall, crossing his arms. On the tray itself, he had left his portion of the flan because he wasn't much of a fan of it. Of course, he'll eat it if he has to but if he can avoid it, you would.

Jonathan had the sinking suspicion that the other hadn't eaten anything since he came into the room last. He hadn't heard anyone walking down the hall or so much as heard a knock on the other's door since he'd been staying in his own room. The behavior of the staff heavily contrasted his entire meeting with Abel's father.

Usually, if the employer was terrible, the staff reflected that in some way and this family didn't fit that mold which he found strange. He stands there, observing the other has he tried to make sense of this.

The man doesn't seem to acknowledge Jonathan right away, which is probably unsurprising. Instead, he continues to work; signing a few documents and lazily waving the paperwork he had gone through to join the neat stack of finished work. It's not until he puts his pen down and takes the half finished cigarette from the ash tray so he could take a drag that he turns his attention to the other.

He raises a brow as he regards the other before he speaks. "Asked you to make sure I eat, did she? Typical," he said with a click of his tongue. Irritating. The staff had always been sweet on him and it has always been this way. The difference was that he was a cute kid and now he's just a sullen adult.

Abel doesn't move from his seat and it doesn't look like he's all that interested in eating. Or at least, interested in eating with Jonathan's presence around. He does speak again though. "You know, most people usually attempt to try and mask their thoughts a bit better. No on really likes having their thoughts available to the other." Was that smile a haughty smirk or a self depreciating smile? "You think rather loudly and a lot and it's a tad irritating, you know."

He didn't have much love for being a psychic in all honesty. He hated the way that he couldn't keep other thoughts out of his head. He hated the taste of all the emotions that surrounded him mixing together. He absolutely abhorred not always knowing which thoughts were even his own. What was his and what belonged to others.

"Don't think too much, you know. You'll get yourself into trouble otherwise," he replies before tapping his cigarette over the ash tray and pulling another document to him with a lazy twirl of his hand.

He definitely seemed to have no intention of eating.

He was expecting to go unacknowledged so when Abel finally chimes in, he perks up, "She did and I intend to do right by her." He tilts his head, looking over at the food before returning this gaze to the other.

On the first day, Jonathan usually knows where to point his loyalties but in the past few hours, he's found a slow growing shift in them and he's not quite sure where they lie, only that they don't belong to Abel's father despite him being his employer.

"You're the first I've worked for with an ability like this so I do apologize for that." He's not worried about his thoughts, at least, not yet anyway so really he doesn't mind that Abel can read them like an annoyingly open book. There's been a lot of information to digest and he can't exactly stop his thoughts when it comes to that.

He puts Abel's complaints into consideration as something to actively work on and he's sure he'll get better at it with time but for the moment the other is just going to have to deal with it for the small amount of time as he adjusts.

"You should invest in some soundproofing if it bothers you so much." He voices back, raising a brow at the suggestion because if he was as talented with magic as he was or his entire family from what his father boasted about, it should be relatively easy, right? Why suffer when you didn't have to?

It wasn't his place to make such remarks but perhaps its him testing the waters with how out of line he can be then just some obedient valet.

Abel has definitely returned to working, although he lazily waves his hand and one of the plates of flan float over to his desk. He knows why the staff worries about him, but he wasn't about to air out the complications of this household to some stranger that was hired by his father.

Jonathan also never said what he did have to eat though.

"What's soundproofing going to do, you git? You're in my room," he says with a roll of his eyes. "My entire room is warded but it isn't going to do much when you're loitering in here like my father's dumb dog," he says with little care about being polite or not. It's not like it matters if things bother him or not. He had absolutely no power in this household. He couldn't even leave his room without permission.

The man seems to be fine with eating the flan (although his actual meal will probably stay untouched for awhile) as he speaks again. "Besides, you bother me a lot, but I don't exactly get a choice in the matter either." There's obvious resentment. A bitterness that isn't even truly aimed at the other.

If anything, it seemed his more hostile attitude to the other wasn't towards Jonathan specifically but because the other was employed by his father.

Okay, he walked into that himself but, at least, now he knows the other has a ward around his room which answers that question.

If there was something that irked Jonathan to no end, it was being referred to as a 'dumb dog'. He's heard that insult many times before regardless of whether they knew of his nature or not, he's also been called a 'mutt' and while he tries to not let his emotions on the subject bother him so much. It was difficult. He huffs a breath and he pushes himself off the wall, clenching one hand into a fist.

He only lingered to see if the other would eat and with Abel's selection of the flan, he decided to take his leave. He had packing to do before he would come back much later in the evening.

Jonathan looks at the other, irritated but otherwise in some control despite the fact he can feel claws digging into the palm of his hand, "That makes two of us. I'll be seeing you in the morning. Goodnight, sir."

Turning to leave in the same fashion as before except he foolishly claws into the door frame and there may have been the sound of wood splintering before he closed the door behind him. It might out his secret before he ever so much as had a chance to truly hide it but he didn't care.

It takes a couple minutes of some deep breathing before he finally steps away from the door and scoops up the rest of the lingering papers off the floor and tosses them up on the bed before grabbing his wallet and keys from his suit jacket that he had left hanging off the chair during his little research montage. He quietly slips out of the room and alerts a staff member along the way that he'd be back probably before midnight as he needed to pack.

Once in his car, it was a long drive of blaring the most intense and loud music he could find off any of his playlists until he got home. Then it was several hours of nearly packing his entire closet, a few knickknacks to remind him of home, a few personal belongings and his birds and their cage which should fit in the backseat if he tried hard enough.

Already alerting his family that they'd need to house sit, he says a quiet goodbye to his apartment since he gave them one of his spare keys when he first moved in. He's almost glad by the time he makes it back to the estate, managing to get the help of one of the staff when it came to getting his belongings to his room. Jonathan pretty much flops down on the bed once everything was inside and he very much just wanted to fall asleep right then and there but unpacking had to be done.

Ah. He can taste it. The burn that was accompanied by heated emotions. He had most definitely touched a nerve of some kind and the other was far from pleased from his insult.

Which meant that he had a favorite insult for the other from now on. Wonderful.

He would feel more remorse for it, but he had done this song and dance with everyone his father had hired to keep him in line and he was much too exhausted to care about offending people that he was trying to push out of his life anyways.

Nothing seems to have changed at all while Jonathan was gone. The glow of a light can be seen flooding in from under the door to indicate that Abel was seemingly still awake. A bit worrisome given that the man had to be early in the morning and it was already getting quite late.

Although, if the other checks on him, he'll find he can't seemingly find the man right away. Abel wasn't in bed, but he wasn't sitting at his desk either. It looked like he had eaten some of the stew (although it looked like a pitiful amount eaten), but both flans were gone. His tea cup was half filled and cold.

There was the sound of gentle breathing though that the other probably could pick up.

It takes another couple of hours to truly be unpacked and settled. The birds weren't happy about being in a completely new and strange place but Jonathan had let them out while he was unpacking so they could explore and stretch their wings before he was going to turn in for the night.

Jonathan takes the time to wash up and change into pajamas, a simple t-shirt and sweat shorts for comfort. Its after putting up Beau and Kiwi that he notices the light was still on in the other's room.

He gives Abel's door a light knock before peaking his head inside, surprised he didn't see the other at all. Strange. He had only come in to retrieve the food tray that way it would be an easy hand off for when breakfast arrived in the morning. Jonathan's steps are quiet as he looks for the other, reaching the table he starts to pile the dishes onto the tray as quietly as possible and he's glad the other ate the flans even if dinner was practically untouched.

When he turns to leave is when he spots Abel, practically curled up underneath his desk and completely unchanged from the outfit he wore today. Letting out a deep sigh and a gentle shake of his head, he takes the tray back to his room and adds his stew bowl and teacup along with it on the table before heading back into the room.

By the looks of it, this had to be a habit of his as he kneels down in front of him and with relatively ease, picks him up and carries him to his bed. He wasn't about to attempt to take off the other's waistcoat since that would be pushing personal boundaries but, at least, he wouldn't be sleeping on the floor.

The man stirs sleepily, but waking up was never a strong suit of his. He barely regards the other in a half asleep stupor before he practically curls up in Jonathan's arms and buries his face against the crook of his neck. It didn't help that Abel was more on the cold blooded side and basically gravitated towards warmth and Jonathan was very warm and comfortable.

Without the guarded expression and the constant furrowed brows; Abel looked much younger. His appearance seemed far less rigid and his features much softer. A rare sight most likely. It's too bad it's unlikely he'll ever be like this while actually conscious.

Just another thing for Jonathan to think on about the strangeness of the household he was now involved in.

Jonathan can feel his face heat up a bit as Abel shifted in his arms and buried his face against his neck, practically freezing at the edge of Abel's bed when he comes to it. It would be easier to stay with him and just sleep in the same bed but that had to be crossing some lines with this being the end of his first day. And he's sure the other wouldn't appreciate that.

Instead, he tries to lay the other down as gently as possible so as not to wake him. Its then that he sees just how relaxed and peaceful he looked. A stark contrast to his entire appearance when he was awake and it raises his suspicions about what was really going on around here.

He pulls the covers over the other before flipping off the lights and lingering in the doorway for a moment before closing the door and going to bed himself.

Today was strange and conflicting but he's hoping tomorrow will treat him a little better. He sleeps soundly until the ladies decided it was time to get up and their soft chirps at the first sign of decent morning light which acted as Jonathan's alarm before his own chimes off.

The man wouldn't consider himself a morning person but he's job forced him to get used to the routine adjustment despite how much it messed with his internal clock. He stares sleepily at the ceiling, not totally awake but desperately wanting to go back to sleep.

Breakfast comes two hours later than what Abel's schedule wanted him to have it. Not because the staff don't know what time it technically was, but because they simply didn't bring it until then because it had been useless to do so. They just accommodated to when Abel did actually take breakfast because serving it any sooner just meant the food would sit out until then. They knock on Jonathan's door just like before with trays of food for both Jonathan and Abel. There's also a tray for morning tea and/or coffee.

With breakfast being late, it meant that Abel's schedule would have to be shifted around. He never cared for all the things his father tried to jam into his day and he knew his physical limits (and that his father had no care about them), so this wasn't a big deal anyways. He skipped half the things his father intended for him. There wasn't enough time in the day to do all his work, follow his father's schedule perfectly, and still sleep.

Also, getting up in the morning was a struggle. He was terrible at it.

It's why the other may find the man sitting up in bed with unfocused eyes and looking around him. He was a bit confused because he was still dressed in his day clothes, but he was also in his bed. The former was something that happened a lot, but the latter was new. He doesn't recall ever making it to his bed.

It takes Jonathan some time to get out of bed and washed up for the morning, while he waited for breakfast to arrive, he looked over the supposed schedule for the day, making slight adjustments and still seeing just how packed it seemed to be. Kiwi and Beau were let out of their cage and walked all over the scattered papers on the table, demanding attention from their owner.

When the knock on the door comes, he thanks the maid again once breakfast was delivered, eating his portion first before corralling the birds back into their cage and knocking on Abel's door with his portion in hand.

He greets him with a soft "Good morning", before he notices the other's confused behavior as he goes to set Abel's breakfast on the table before walking over to him. Sleeping under his desk seemed to be a habit of his and being placed onto his bed wasn't remotely on his radar.

Jonathan sits on the edge of Abel's bed and hesitantly reaches out to try a smooth out the other's somewhat messy bedhead. The other didn't seem quite awake yet, judging by his expression so he doesn't quite tell him that he moved him over here or today's schedule. He almost takes the time to enjoy to seemingly soft moment between them which was a stark contrast to Abel's behavior yesterday but similar to his behavior when he came to move him to his bed.

Edited 2019-05-16 09:52 (UTC)

He frowns a little. Not at the other. If anything, Abel doesn't seem to even quite realize the other there. The greeting is kind of lost on him as he blinks a few times to try and wake up. Jonathan will find very quickly that Abel just had very low blood sugar in the morning (and may also explain the man's particular affinity towards sweets).

The man was also touch starved. He doesn't think of it at all, but lets his eyes flutter closed and leans into the gentle touch. The comforting warmth and feeling. It's a rare comfort that he gets too experience. Something he doesn't really recall experiencing since he was a child.

It just so happens that he's still sleepy enough to indulge in it.

As Abel leans into his touch, he takes in a soft breath as if this was a moment that might slip away if he wasn't too careful, nearly freezing up again. Maybe working as Abel's valet wouldn't be too terrible after all and that only raises his suspicions about this place and everyone's relationship in it.

Jonathan continues to run gentle fingers through the other's hair, slowly getting it back to something less ridiculous as the other seems to enjoy it for the time being.

Once Abel's hair was pretty much back to normal, he gently brings his hand down to the other's cheek, a light brush of his thumb across the skin as he just stares in thought at the other. Not thinking about what he was really doing or what he should be.

Eventually, the other was going to come to and Cain just looked... so peaceful in this moment that he didn't want to cut it short. Not yet. It was worth dealing with whatever remarks the other would make in his direction once he was fully awake.

Abel seemed to be very similar to what one would expect a cat to be like if they were human. A little pleased sigh and the other seemed so relax. He didn't seem anywhere close to it yesterday.

He just presses his face against Jonathan's hand. If he were awake enough; he'd be embarrassed and horrified by his actions, but he was much too tired and hungry for such gentle attention.

The other is right that it won't last forever, but it seems like it won't be too awkward between them. Instead, Abel pulls away to finally get to his feet. A bit of a stagger as he kind of just disappears into the bathroom. Honestly, if not for magic and routine, it was likely the man would have walked into the door if he didn't have the magic to open it while he moved.

At the very least, Jonathan had time to mull over his thoughts with the sound of the shower eventually being heard behind the door.

He gives the other a soft smile as Abel presses his face further into his hand. Seeing him relaxed suited him better than the furrowed brow and hard features. Jonathan lets Abel pull away and watches as the other slowly makes his way to the bathroom.

With the sound of the shower running, Jonathan takes that as his cue to leave. The last thing he needed was to explain why he was sitting on the bed if he lingered too long. He gets to his feet to cross the room to his own, opening it and glancing back towards the bathroom before a flash a smile could be seen and slips inside, closing the door behind him.

He knows to expect a complete 180 when he walks into the room again but that small moment was something he looked forward to seeing again. Jonathan presses his back against the door for a moment, looking over the palm of his hand and running his thumb gently against his fingertips before he gave a light shake of his head and pushed off the door. He needed to forget the thought because the other can very well read his mind and it would simply be less trouble if he didn't think about this.

Getting attached easily was a terrible habit of his and while he swore he'd stay longer than Abel estimated of him, he feels that the longer he does stay, the more he'll find out what was truly going on around here. And he's not quite sure he can simply stand and watch when that happens.

Jonathan finishes getting dressed, pulling on a button down that he rolled up the sleeves for and settling on stylish collar pins in lieu of a tie. He plays with Beau and Kiwi for a few minutes before he dares to knock on the door again with schedule in hand.

"Come in."

Jonathan will find the man already dressed and his hair dry and styled for the day. The softer demeanor that the Brit held was gone, although he seemed at least more relaxed than he had been the day before. He was sipping tea from a cup with the teapot floating and following him as he walked.

Abel also had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He wore a plain white dress shirt with a dark blue waistcoat and matching pants. What was more curious though was the multitude of burns that could be seen on his fingers and forearms. While the ones on his fingers were easy to guess (he was a smoker), but the scars on his arms were curious. The man should easily be well cared for. It seemed unlikely for him to harbor so many past injuries unless self inflicted. Still, the man's personality probably seemed too far off to do that at that level.

"You have birds," he says suddenly. Probably just parsing stray thoughts from the other, since he had just been playing with them moments before.

Jonathan pushed the door open and stepped inside, there was an almost clear difference to Abel compared to yesterday and even earlier but he wasn't exactly going to get his hopes up that he wouldn't be as rude. At least, he regarded his presence this time.

He does make it a point to be more attentive towards the other, gaze flickering from the floating teapot to the curious burn scars as he tried to make some sense of those before Abel drags his attention at the sudden comment about his birds, stopping him in his tracks as he stopped short of being closer to Abel's desk.

"Two. They're lovebirds, sir." He says, pressing the schedule close to his chest. While he knows they can be little chatter boxes, he couldn't hear them from inside Abel's room but he also knows that the other can easily pick the knowledge of them up from his thoughts, if he didn't catch their chirping from when he opened the door. Not that he minded.

"Your welcome to meet them anytime, if you'd like." Jonathan offers with doubts that Abel would ever indulge in it but maybe they could help relax the other and give him an excuse to take a break from his work.

He sips his tea quietly before placing the cup back on its saucer. "Abel. I'm not my father. I don't go by sir," he spits out. The man was obviously not very fond of his father and his father didn't exactly show much love for the man in return. Still, there was a sad look in his eyes.

Instead he holds out his hand so the other can give him the schedule in his hands. "I imagine we have very little time for that." Abel knows he's usually given very little free time to indulge and he can't recall the last time he had used any time for himself or merriment. "Come on now. Usually that bastard wants me up by five for whatever bloody reason. Best to get a move on if you want to keep your job. Why you want it is beyond me," he says offhandedly.

It's not like he's a pleasant person nor does he think this is a pleasant job for anyone to work.

"Apologizes." Jonathan ducks his head a bit, noting not to call the other 'Sir' anymore and sticking to using the other's name if he needed to. He wasn't expecting the bite in the other's tone on the matter but he's quick to learn that anything remotely relating to his father is a very sour subject.

"We can make time..." He says softly as he steps forward to pass the schedule over. He's not quite sure how, given the overly packed agenda for the month but maybe he'll cut one of the days short on purpose. Regardless of what the consequences might be. Once the schedule was passed, he takes a few steps back, arms behind his back out of habit. Jonathan can't help but agree that his father's judgement was a bit out of wack, based on what was required of the other to accomplish during the day. It seemed almost impossible.

Its the first time he's seen such a schedule and he's worked with kids and teens before. They had a more balanced day than Abel seemed to have. His reasons for the job, however, were his own and they may slowly be shifting from what he had in mind originally.

"I have my reasons." is all he says on the matter and tries to keep his thoughts nonexistent on them, though that in itself was difficult.

The job could be worse than what it was, whether it was actually pleasant didn't matter. At least, not anymore. He's worked for enough people to know that working for someone who was actually nice was a rarity that not many showed.

"I don't want apologies. I just don't want you to call me that again," Abel simply replies with. It's curt, but the other seems less irate by the other and just rather irritated at the word itself.

He takes the schedule from him and goes over it. He places his tea cup down the same time a pen floats over to him and grabs it out of the air. "Well, we're already some hours behind, but I generally don't go to a bunch of these things. It's as though he simply adds things to my day for the sake of doing it and not because it's actually worth anything. Etiquette class? He could at least be a smidge more subtle," the man says with a scoff. He seems to cross a few of the things off the list. Things he knows he has no interest in doing or attending and is possibly there just to waste his time.

Abel purses his lips for a moment, but doesn't say anything else for a moment. He quickly downs the rest of his tea. "Well, let's go."

Things seem to go quickly and chaotically. From business meetings to social engagements to just about anything you expect a high class socialite goes through. Abel is nothing short of completely charming and captivating. He fits the image well and is quite a sweettalker. From pressing chaste kisses to hands to making idle jokes that earn plenty of chuckles. There's no sign of the surlier man that Jonathan had first met.

The man was a terribly good actor.

Everything seems to go by as quickly as it comes and morning quickly becomes the afternoon to the evening. Abel doesn't actually complain much at all throughout the day. Almost as though he doesn't even have the time for that.

By the time they're back at the estate, it's passed supper time.

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