The air grows timid as the heavy and thick aura settles in the pores of Lavender's skin the moment she finds herself stepping into the livingroom.
A man tucked in an elegant deep blue jacket gripping onto a still fit body in contrast to the many years that had collapsed.
Standing at a whooping height of over six feet, the near copycat Domen stands by the fireplace, gazing at something with his upper body leaning towards it.
The dominating scent from his million dollar bottle of grounded flower and chemicals fills the room like oxygen, claiming every corner of the house.
Though seeing just the side of his jawline that could cut water in half, Lavender can tell where Domen had stolen his alluring appearance from.
His mother, along with his ageless father both with reversing time clocks on their wrists all stand on their own pedestal of glam and glory.
Beauty with brains.
"Desmond, I brought Domen." Her mother chimes with excitement as she grips onto the arm of her son who is towering over her.
From Lavender's perspective, she couldn't have guessed it was Domen's mother as she expected a head full of greying hairs and not ginger red silk pressed hair.
Desmond, presumed to be the father of the ignorant but rich handsome man turns to check whether what his wife is saying is true.
Indeed, his son's stands in the flesh, towering over him as well, nearly mocking his father's height that he always boasted about.
"He's even taller, see?" She giggles as she reaches her hand up to her head and then up to Domen's. "He's past you now."
"I see." Desmond nods his head as he still remains where he is standing. "Where's our daughter-in-law?"
As always, he's never really sought to be interested in whatever Domen is up to. He's only interested in Evette since they were little.
Unlike him, he only managed to give birth to a son when he had wished for a daughter his entire life.
One would ask why he couldn't simply have another.
Having a history dominated by men, his father couldn't risk another son and settled for one child.
"She's preparing for a photoshoot on Monday, so she's not here until then." Domen mentions as his mother frowns and glances up at her son, sad enough she still hasn't convinced her husband despite all these years to grow into favor of his own son. "Is that all you came to do?"
"I presume so." Desmond says as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out some cards. "Needless to say I needed her opinion on the design of the cards for the wedding ceremony. I had them create three designs and need approval."
"Well, she's not here today." Domen furrows his brows at his father who still isn't fazed by him. "Come tomorrow."
"I think so as well." Desmond sighs out as he tucks the cards back into his jacket. "I'll take my leave-."
"Don't be such a dunce, Desmond." His wife nags as she leaves Domen's side and marches up to her husband who nearly rolls his eyes. "We also came to check up on him."
"What would a twenty-seven year old man need to be checked on by his parents?" Desmond asks as he glares down at his wife. "You know too well he lacks the empathy to meet his own parents. Why must I make it an effort to?"
"He's still your son." She hisses at him as he sighs and glances around the room, finally noticing Lavender for the first time. "We are staying for ten minutes atmost."
"Say, boy, who is that lady behind you?" Desmond asks and Domen can help but clench his teeth as he knows too well his father is just mocking him by calling him 'boy'. "Don't think I've seen her before."
"Lavender, Evette's best friend." He says as he steps aside for him to see her clearly, getting Lavender to stiffen as she is now under the gaze of the man most fear and cower from.
The beast out of water.
The man that creates something from nothing and can destroy even kings.
Desmond Southren. The man with the blood of a serpent.
"Then what was she doing with you?" He asks as he turns his gaze from Lavender and up to meet Domen's eyes. "You clearly are coming from her home since you weren't present in your own."
Domen blinks for a few seconds as Lavender glances up at Domen, praying she doesn't answer the question instead.
She might say lies that don't make any sense.
"Your failure to answer me immediately when asked implies there is some mischievousness growing between you two." Desmond points out, getting Lavender to widen her eyes in shock.
Surprised he can tell just by Domen's hesitation.
"None of that. We are only acquainted as workmates and through Evette. We did nothing mischievous." Domen defends as he can feel his father's blazing gaze drilling a hole between his eyes. "You know better than to make baseless conclusions."
"Then tell me, how acquainted are you both to leave the house at such odd early hours." He asks as he turns to face Domen who raises a brow at him. "I called the ground phone and no one answered all morning. I get here ready to unleash my anger, after assuming you were deliberately choosing not to answer, when I unlock your front door and you are absent from your own home."
Domen clenches his jaw as he stares at his father who is mocking his lack of attention.
"Four hours eighteen minutes you've been absent from your home and presumably in Lavender's home. Doing what I ask starting from six in the morning?" Desmond raises a brow as Domen shifts his gaze elsewhere.
He's always hated his father.
His father is a man of challenge and ignorance of other's well-being. He's always loved ratting out the deepest darkest shadows a man tries to hide and reveals it to keep them in his leash.
Luckily for Domen, he only suspects it and isn't sure of it.
"I had prepared breakfast while I was there while we were discussing work-related issues. She's the woman I promoted from a basic telecoms employee to a model designer."
Desmond's eyes widen slightly before he drops his gaze down to Lavender.
"So she's the woman Wilbert had been talking about." He says as he approached Lavender who nearly steps back as she watches him approach her. "You don't look like you could pull an outstanding model as that one."
"I'll take it as a compliment." Lavender nods her head and clears her throat as Desmond doesn't look away from her.
His stare only growing more unbearable but the minute.
"You seem lazy from the looks of it. Hardly able to care for your own hair, no one would have guessed you'd be smart." Desmond points out as he takes a pen from inside his jacket and places it into Lavender's hair before pulling the pen up, pulling the fuzzy curly hair of Lavender before dropping it and cringing his nose. "Have you considered purchasing hair products?"
Lavender furrows her brows as she pats her hair down, fixing the mess he's just made.
"They aren't cheap." She says with a shrug of her shoulders as Desmond frowns down at her.
"To be respected you must look like you can earn the respect." Desmond says as he points the end of the pen to her cheek. "Your skin is begging to be ripped off and regrown, your hair is screaming in agony pleading to be chopped off and your body is short yet packed. If you don't care for yourself as Evette does you will earn no respect from anyone, my dear."
Desmond says as he places the pen into her hair and doesn't take it out as he steps back from her.
"Certainly not from me." He continues before sighing and glancing at his son. "You're not spared, boy, you look like you had a fight with a pillow and lost."
"I know." Domen rolls his eyes as his mother nods in agreement to her husband.
"This woman might be rubbing off on you, so you better keep a watch on who you are becoming. You're a Southren, perfection is your only religion." Desmond says as he watches his Domen slowly glare up at him. A sight he is used to seeing. "Spend more time designing cars and enhancing your financial status, less time socializing. You know as a Southren we don't like to waste our time."
Lavender turns her gaze towards Domen who really isn't saying much to his father, not that she would if she was him anyway.
His father seemed like the rule maker and the executor of any who shall break those rules. The judge of his own making and the dominant being in every environment.
He emits such toxic need for supremacy that Lavender can smell it from afar.