Ascension - Book Eight - Man x Man

Chapter 15

(Verando's POV) 

Marcello leaned back against the wood railing, overlooking the party lazily rolling below. The building was large, spacious, akin to a capitol style set up with multiple stories and overlooks. The prestigious event wasn't as much for celebrities more so a gathering of the small territories that had begun to spring up surrounding the city. 

As deserts were returning to grass lands and inner cities still crumbling away due to the lack of Artifice, it was more important than ever to come together and try to find solutions to the gap between those thriving and those dying. Unfortunately, a gathering such as this was more so an excuse to drink than it was an opportunity to discuss. No doubt these discussions would dwindle on for the coming weeks while those who truly made the decisions put in long hours and the political heads showed a display of good spirits for the press. 

Verando couldn't help but smirk at the thought, it seemed not much had changed even with the various warnings. Nothing would hasten the lumber of political momentum. But, they could at least have the solicae that the government was finally on their side. 

"Thanks for coming with me. I have been trying to get this guy for weeks, maybe with two of us-"

 Verando exhales, stopping the other man mid-sentence with a knowing look that suggested his real intention were obvious. Marcello had recently made the move to France and it wasn't hidden that Lotta felt it would benefit the retired warlord to have friends of similar background. "I very much doubt there is a soul alive who gives you the slip, Marcello," Verando responds, taking a slow drag off his cigarette while eyeing the patrons below.

His mood was somber, thinking of me, thinking of how I would have loved to attend such an event if nothing else than for the atmosphere and the involvement in the intrict workings of a rebuilding nation. I was the one who gained the most out of these events. 

Marcello smirks, patting the gray-haired man firmly on the back once, he would give him credit that the man was well researched. While it wasn't his favorite to have any sort of physical contact, the lycan couldn't help but feel relief at the slight contact. A wolf needed it's pack, a solitary life was a dim one in comparison much as he used to seek it. "You caught me. I'm worried about you. Why the hell else do you think I came all the way from America to do see your pathetic ass?" He snickers, crossing his arms to lean on the railing once more. "I had a pretty sweet thing going there."

"Mmm." Verando muses, exhaling the smoke that did nothing but burn his sensitive nose. He'd promised me he'd try to stop, yet here he was partaking at the slightest inconvenience. It was a dose of morphine to his senses, a way to settle down in the electricity of their task. "Hiding underground with all of its wonders and mysteries. My my, it really is quite a pity that you had to come all the way to France. Here I thought it was for the pay increase." Raising an eyebrow, he eyes the military man who smirks once more, unashamed. 

"That too." Marcello taps out a non-challant rhythm on the railing, tilting his head to the side to observe the man for a moment longer. "Gary says you're not yourself. I figured you could use some company."

"Is anyone, anymore? You've been in combat, could you truly say you're the same as you were?" It was a frustrating topic, given the state of the world. To give oneself permission to feel anything when their significant other tipped on the edge of sanity seemed selfish at the very least. He had everything he wanted, to still be miserable was an insult to their cause. "It's Nic I'm concerned about."

Worrying about me was easier than addressing his own mental fatigue. It'd been a long few years but faced with immortality, a little more discomfort seemed a worth while endevor. Enduring was something he'd gotten quite good at.