𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

𝐈𝐕 : 𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐭

"Oh, it's so beautiful! Splendid work, as always! Wouldn't you agree, Marlowe?" Hitch asked her husband.

"Beautiful, my love." Mr. Freudenberg leaned toward your friend and kissed her temple as you awkwardly stood with thread and needle in hand to make any further alterations. It was rude, but you had to fight the urge to gag at their little act of intimacy.

Hitch Dreyse, another childhood friend, became engaged to Marlowe Freudenberg following a passionate romance sparked at a party over a year ago. The match was a welcomed surprise for the Dreyse family, as the Freudenbergs were unbelievably wealthy and had acquired several properties throughout the surrounding states. It was also a welcomed surprise for you and Niccolo, as Hitch's pay for your work increased exponentially, and her very generous mother-in-law loved Niccolo's cooking for the wedding so much that she started having him cater all her smaller events.

Having only married in May despite the superstitions that came with May weddings, you had done everything to avoid Hitch following her change in last name. Obviously, you were happy for her, but you had also lost one of your few friends to the institution of marriage. Despite your efforts to mature and move on, you had yet to come to terms with your feelings. Although she lived nearby, you lacked the courage to face her. Her marriage marked the end of childhood, and all you have left holding that world together is Eren. If it had not been for the three months' worth of groceries she had paid for this dress, you would probably not be standing in that uncomfortable room with her.

"Marlowe, go check on Y/n's companions on the porch and invite them into the house. Get them something to drink, too. We'll join you all after we catch up." Hitch waited for her husband's back to disappear out the door before she spoke. "Where have you been hiding those handsome men you brought with you? I know I'm married now, but I'm jealous. You've got your own harem now."

"They're friends of Niccolo. They are staying in the summer while they work on their crafts."

"Crafts? What do they do? Anything noteworthy?"

"Mr. Arlert—"

"Mr. Arlert!?" she exclaimed, but you slapped a hand to her mouth to keep her from loudly embarrassing you. You slowly peeled your palm from her lips, and she whispered, "Mr. Arlert? As in the writer whose books you lent me? I would never have thought he'd be so tall and muscular."

You rolled your eyes. "The tall one is a painter. Mr. Arlert is the blonde."

"Oh." Hitch clicked her tongue. "Well, then you'll have to settle for the painter. He's probably poor but still far too handsome to let him slip through your fingers. And you know what they say about tall men, don't you? Tall men typically have bigger—"

"I would rather marry a goat than that man. He's a complete ass, Hitch. You should hear the rude things he's said to me since he arrived. I've been called ugly, lazy, and manly more times than I can count on two hands, and it's only been four days."

"Manly?! God plays cruel games with us, doesn't he? He makes all the handsome men malignant and the ugly ones nettlesome. Excluding my dear Marlowe, of course." Love glittered behind Hitch's pretty green eyes, and another gag stirred without you. "At least you still have Zeke. He's handsome enough if you like older, boring men that barely tolerate women in the first place. Didn't he ask you to marry him in March? What happened to that?"

"I rejected him."

Your friend shook her head, her short blonde hair waving with each movement. "You're such a fool. Having a doctor as a father-in-law would be such a blessing. You could get me a discount for..." Hitch's eyes widened. Her lips puckered but quickly turned upwards in secret excitement.