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aiAI: Love's Logic
Chapter 53: An Apprentice-Acquiesced-Accord

Chapter 53: An Apprentice-Acquiesced-Accord

As we traversed the concrete maze of the city, vehicle-bound and carried by our obligation as surveyors, the day had reached its halfway point, meaning the sun was at its brightest, ready to shine light upon the question we've been asking since the beginning of our adventures as a triad.

After clearing our first line of clientele in the morning, the time for a reprieve arrived - well, usually, that would be the case, but our work wasn't quite over yet.

The air was silent. While we exchanged questions and answers regarding clients and files, nary a whisper eeked out otherwise. It was as if we knew to save our breaths for the conversation that would take place during the break.

But as we turned another corner, into a block my eyes had gazed upon dozens of times, I recalled that today's goal wasn't just to peek into the psyche of our client-turned-apprentice but also to give him the surveyor experience - with the works.

This meant that Keith not only had to dress like us, work like us, act like us, but of course, also eat like us.

Hopefully, they're open this time.

My prayers to the deity of foodstuffs and luncheons were answered - as when we made the final turn, I could see the ever-welcoming sign of our preferred stop greet us with open arms as warm as their sandwiches.

"Looks like ol' Edmond's back," I said with a smile as Myla slowed down to park the car.

"Let's hope Fable is as well."

"Aww, look at you being all nice. You missed her, didn'tcha?"

She pulled on the handbrake and undid her seatbelt, "I'll miss anyone else's company when I spend most of my time with you." Exiting the car with a quick jab to retaliate.

"Yeesh, that or food really is the way to your heart, huh?" I added before looking back at our apprentice, who, even in his silence, couldn't help but smirk at our exchange.

"Well? We're here." I said, freeing him from his trance, "Let's go get something to eat, shall we?" And with that, I opened the door to place my feet on the concrete sidewalk.

Ah, I'm home.

The rustic shop still felt frozen in time, unchanged and uncompromising even in the face of the modernized superstructures of the urban forest it inhabited. With its bright red awnings, scarcely decorated exterior, stocked-to-the-brim interior, relatively quiet surroundings, and yet inviting scents, I was excited to take in and share this little slice of heaven with our third party member.

"This is a corner of town I haven't been to before." Our apprentice commented as he closed the car door and walked beside me.

As we began our short trek toward the shop with Keith tailing me, I noticed my dear partner already finding herself a spot, "Oh? You already got us a seat?" I asked to which she gestured to the pulled-out folding chairs.

We sat down, placing our arms and morning fatigue onto the rounded table, the striped umbrella's shadow shielding us from the sun's scalding rays.

"Not to be rude, but why decide to eat here of all places?" Our apprentice inquired with intrigue in his darting eyes.

I couldn't answer him as, when I said the works, I meant it - meaning our trip wouldn't be the complete package if a certain someone didn't greet us with her warm smile and upbeat personality.

The shop's door opened with a high-pitched and chime-like jingle, the figure of a young woman exiting the establishment. As she began her walk toward us, her liveliness felt lost, and the dark red-brown hair she donned flaccidly sat on one of her shoulders, as static as the rest of her body.

"...Oh? Customers?" She said with a lowered gaze, "What can I get you-" But when she raised her head, I could almost glance at a near-depressed expression before the sight of us washed it away.

And as if she flipped a switch, her eyes widened, and her lips curled upwards, not a blemish left on her cheerful visage as she hurriedly walked to our table, pen, and paper ready.

"Good morning Fabl-" My dear partner was cut off by the burst of energy from the young lass.

"Bridger! Myla! Long time no- Who the heck are you?" Her spunk was short-lived as she saw our third member, the two, sharing a look of curiosity.

We're going to have to do this the entire day, huh?

"Intern, meet Fable Glenn, sandwich shop co-owner, meet Keith Kirby, There. Done." I said, crossing my arms in triumph after summarizing what could've taken half a chapter in my day-to-day's worth of words.

"Cool. Nice to meetcha' K." Fable greeted, shortening the already one-syllable name even more before turning to us, "Right, let's get you your food first and foremost, shall we?"

"You at least still remember our usuals, right?"

"But of course! How could I forget? And as for K?"

"Oh, I'll just get what Bridger's having." He replied with his own subdued smile and a quiet tone.

"That's OK for K!" She chuckled, realizing the pun she had set up with our apprentice's moniker.

Is this what passes for comedy nowadays? What happened to minute-long videos for kids with no attention spans and unintelligible memes that die in a week?

"Alright, I'll be back in a jiffy!" Fable said, doing a spin as she turned around and cheerfully walked back inside.

Keith turned from the young woman to us, a somewhat confused but well-meaning smile, "You two seem well-kno-"

"Wait, that order? Myla and Bridger? Good to hear them back!" A hearty laugh followed the deep voice that bellowed to cut off our apprentice's query.

"...You two seem well-known here." He once again spoke up, this time with a bit more confusion in his expression.

"Eh, kinda. We get discounts too. It's our go-to spot, more or less." I replied, leaning back on the hard seat.

"The food's good," Myla added, perfectly short but sweet.

"Oh," Keith concluded, equally abrupt but content.

"Right, back to business." I leaned forward, my arms on the table and my hands together as I stared down our apprentice-turned-client with a somber expression.

He returned with a pensive look of his own. And while seeming hesitant, as he took a breath with closed eyes, his tension faded into wordless resolve.

As always, rest is reserved for the virtuous, and the wicked's work is never over.

And so our work did begin the very moment Keith opened his lips to impart the knowledge we long awaited - not even our breaks safe from labor.

"You see, after months of being with Amanda, I've honestly been...Happy." He began with a subtle but tender smile, lining his words with a similar warmth before continuing, "I enjoy every second of it, getting to and receiving care from her." And the following words echoed a statement I shared with him when we first met.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

He threw his gaze off into the distance, wistfully resuming, "It feels great to finally experience and, to some small degree, understand something I've been all but bewildered by for so long." Adding a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

"Days have been...Fun. Just that. My status quo keeps changing with her around - if I can even call it that anymore." He corrected his near-oxymoron with a snicker, covering his mouth shyly as he did.

This wasn't news to us, of course. We kept up with the pair just as we did the rest of our clients, though I'm not one to deny that I did give them some special attention as per my promise to them.

I do this out of the admittedly little goodness left in my heart.

"But I also don't want that to cloud my judgment," He settled his gaze back onto us and closed his eyes, becoming earnest again, "I've been trying to sort out my thoughts regarding her for a while now, but I'm not ending up with a clear answer or one I'm confident in."

"And what do you mean by that exactly?" I asked, leaning and narrowing my eyes and sharpening my tone of voice - whereas Myla calmly laid her back further into the chair - a swap of temperaments between us present due to the peculiarity of the circumstance.

I know I have a lot more reason to be attached to these two, but get a little serious. For my sake, come on.

"...I can't say. At least not yet." I furrowed my eyebrows at his statement, though I waited for him to explain.

"To oversimplify a bit, I want to use this time to think about it. To see if I can learn something about it or maybe see it from a different angle." He finished, facing ahead, but his eyes avoided my assertive and skeptical gaze.

The table became soundless once he finished - the secluded location of the shop within the metropolitan grove created a pin-drop ambiance to match the ceasing of our conversation.

I'll admit, I didn't expect a straightforward answer either. In all honesty, it's a valuable trait to have in the real world - people rarely give you one, after all. But even so, not just from the eyes of a surveyor but as someone who had the pledge to keep, Keith's answer filled me with worry, vexation, and puzzlement.

The seat beside me shifted, catching mine and Keith's attention, "I'm sure you already know this, but this is obviously something either you or we have to bring up with Amanda, sooner or later." My partner said in her cold voice, but her tone seemed almost understanding.

All our apprentice gave was a nod, prompting us to continue to speak our input on his statement.

"Look," I began, crossing my arms, "I think I might understand a little bit of what you're trying to say, but doing all of this behind your partner's back?" I asked, uncrossing my arms and gesturing around me before continuing.

"You're supposed to learn and solve issues with them. You can keep some things to yourself, absolutely, but this?" But even as I practically interrogated him, his lips remained sealed - only nodding in response.

"Open and honest communication is one of the basic tenets of a good-" Myla tried to add on, but her remark was cut prematurely.

"I know." Our apprentice finally uttered, "I knew all of this the moment I even considered this. But I'm asking you again, please, let me learn this for myself, for her." He said, not pleading but stating.

"I understand that I'm not giving you much to work with, but I promise this is a decision I want to make myself for Amanda and me. I want to say I did this because I already owe so much of what has happened to her and both of you." He explained, his lens-covered eyes once again burning with unwavering honesty.

People communicate in different ways. This much is as unerring as when night follows day. But how they do so is different for each individual. I can still vividly recall when we first met Keith. And something he mentioned often was the look in the eyes of those close to him, what they held and what they told him of the inexplicable emotion he now found himself lost in.

And as I recalled this, it struck me - that even though I wanted to doubt his words as a surveyor and as the once-betrothed to Amanda Adler, his eyes showed nothing but conviction and resolve.

The truth is in the eyes of the beheld.

I gave a sarcastic laugh, earning both of my colleagues' attention, "Not too long ago, you wanted help understanding the very concept of love, and now you're asking us to let you possibly dangle your relationship on a tightrope while we sit idly and cheer you on?" I practically scoffed before leaning back.

Myla and Keith both flinched at my words, unacquainted with my bluntness and harsh tone.

"...But," their expressions turning from shock to intrigue, "We'll let you off the hook for now. But after this, you better explain everything to us. And Amanda. And I do mean everything." I declared my last statement with a heavy tone, letting my annoyed expression compound it.

The two shared a look of surprise - before they diverged in their expressions - one of them expressing joy and the other an endeared smirk.

"Bridger, I knew you were attached, but I never thought I'd see you acting like an overprotective father over Amanda. It's rather precious." My dear partner commented, hiding her tiny grin.

"Be quiet and take this seriously," I replied, looking away with irritation still in my eyes.

"Feisty today, aren't we?" She proceeded, her smile growing, "Where's your usual nonchalant and jokey self?" Myla continued to satirize me, but I held steadfast in my position.

"Wow, you're well and truly annoyed, aren't you?" She refused to let up.

"Yes. Yes, I am." I replied shortly, "But I trust him, alright?" The continuation of my response earned a laugh from our earlier quiet and observant third member.

"I apologize," He began, placing a hand up to his mouth to hide his amusement, "It's just seeing you switch roles all of a sudden has a particular humor to it."

I gave both of them one last look of annoyance before breathing out a sigh of defeat, signaling the white flag and the end of my tirade.

"Indeed it does. But even so, with all this considered, we will be placing you under more surveillance and questioning throughout your time with us." Myla stated, returning to her composed self as she spoke to Keith.

"I'll count on it." Our apprentice replied with a beaming smile that shone brighter than the sunlight on his spectacles.

And with that, we reached a slightly off resolution, but one that would suffice for the time being. I wasn't elated by it, which I've already made apparent. But seeing as Myla didn't object either, Keith earned a go-signal from the two of us to continue his little venture for knowledge - whatever that may be.

"I've...returned!" Fable shouted as she exited the shop, drawing out the pronunciation of her words with a lively tone, "Right, here you go." She exclaimed, placing a plastic tray topped with our orders onto the table.

"I'll grab your bill later and- Woah, Bridger, what's with the scrunched-up face?" The young woman asked, placing her hands on her hips and asking in a playfully concerned tone.

"No, I'm good." I answered, shaking my head to compose myself, "Oh, that reminds me, Keith, Fable over here was one of Alex and Myla's clients once." I explained to him as he grabbed his food, his eyes widening as he looked at her.

"She's also basically an honorary member at this point."

"You have done quite a lot to help us, Fable." Myla complimented the upbeat woman, getting her to blush out of praise.

"Well, that makes the two of us," Keith said, scratching the back of his head with a close-eyed laugh at Fable.

"Wait, what?" She asked in confusion, her flattered smile still not gone.

"It's a long story..." He said, "But I wouldn't mind sharing it with you if I can ask you some questions myself." Keith added, it seems, after some knowledge once again.

Playground rules state equal exchange of secrets, huh?

"I'd love to take you up on your offer, but I've got some other orders to do and-"

"I can help while we talk." He stated, standing up, "Oh, if it's not a hassle that is..." Our apprentice slowly lowered himself back down, correcting his enthusiasm.

"Oh, sure! I'd love a new chat buddy." She smiled at him, prompting him to stand up, "And between you and me," She leaned in to whisper to Keith, "It's hard to find a spot between those two, right?" I couldn't make out what she said, but Keith's expression told me he felt relieved and agreed with her statement.

He turned to us like a child asking for permission to go to their friend's house, equally as charming with his well-meaning expression that gave little reason to oppose.

"Yeah, alright. The break lasts for a while, so just don't mess up anyone's order." He happily nodded before turning to Fable, who gave an equally cheery expression.

God knows introverts are allergic to those kinds of situations.

"I'll be taking your third wheel then!" She shouted as they entered the shop.

"Hey, what do you mean by that?" I exclaimed back, but even if they heard me, I doubt we would've gotten an honest answer.

As they left Myla and me to our devices, we returned to our usual habits, the comforting quiet between us returning as we unwrapped our meals.

How many times has it become suddenly quiet now? We're up to what? Four? We've gotta be setting a record at this point.

"We should probably contact and schedule something with Amanda alone, huh?" I proposed, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"To inquire on her own observations, correct?"

"Yeah, but if it's alright with you, I'd like to keep what Keith's doing a secret from her still," I added as she unscrewed the cap on her drink.

"Sure. I don't see why not." She agreed to it before even taking a sip, quick and painless, an adjective I seldom used to describe most of our interactions.

"Well, I'll be damned. We're both surprising each other today. I thought you'd disagree."

She sighed before explaining, "I would, but it'd be a waste of energy," She paused to take a drink before elaborating, "At the end of the day, I'll always find myself getting roped along with your schemes, so this time we can just skip right to the end." My dear partner made no attempts to hide her exasperation, as she explained with a tired expression.

"I usually wonder why, but this plan of yours is sounder than most, so maybe that's the reason."

"Aww, that or deep down you trust me more than you think?" I asked teasingly, earning a sarcastic smile.

"Trust is a strong word, Blaithe."

"We're no strangers to chucking strong words at each other, Marika." We exchanged equally deceitful and snarky looks, looking less and less like partners and more like rivals of opposing beliefs.

Actually, that sums up our partnership pretty well.

But even so, what Myla meant by being "sounder" was evident. We both knew we needed the other half of the question to help Keith achieve his goal. And so our next moves were just as obvious.

Off we go, then.