Perfectly Imperfect

I had a list of all the different things I knew I had to approach with Frost and a schedule of when I intended to tackle each one. Everything was worked around when I required to be at my father's firm, and there were some things that I was prepared to wake up extra early to deal with. He still seemed reluctant to listen to me but I was familiar to being oblivious to what was expected of me. I was given my rude awakening but I hoped that I could prevent that from happening to him and have him accept his position willingly.

It was how I found myself back at his house the following morning, bright and early. I knocked on his door and brushed a bit of fluff off my coat as I waited. A few moments passed before I knocked again. After a prolonged moment, I heard movement from behind the door and it slowly creaked open, revealing a dishevelled Frost. "Spencer?" he asked, squinting at me.

"Good morning, Frost," I said, nodding at him. "I apologise for waking you, although it is eight o'clock and a weekday. May I come in?"

He had barely nodded when I stepped in, making him move away from the door so that I could pass. Showing up unannounced allowed me to see his real living space and not the tidied version I saw yesterday. It's easier to read a person when you can see their normal living space compared to their living space that is projected when they're anticipating guests. I know that my mother straightens up our house whenever guests are over, although it's very much sparkling beforehand.

"Not to be rude or anything, but why are you here?" I turned around when he spoke and leaned against the wall.

"Your mother feels that your clothes could be improved," I said, adjusting my watch. "Your cardigan and jeans from yesterday are perfect casual clothing, but she feels that you could improve your formal-wear. What you wore when we first met was okay, but when you attend functions you need to make a bit more of an effort, don't you think?"

"You don't want to know what I think," Frost muttered, rubbing his eyes. Just looking at his clothes told me that I had woke him, and even if he'd looked wide awake when he answered the door, I would have known anyway.

Watching him just stand there rubbing his eyes made me move from where I was stood and head into the kitchen. "I'll make you a coffee. Why don't you get dressed so that we can head out as soon as you've woken up better?" I called over my shoulder. He didn't follow after me so I assumed he listened and disappeared into his bedroom. If he wasn't out in ten minutes, I would enter with a bucket.

I admired Frost for living alone. It was something that I had wanted to do desperately before I went away, but now that I was back, living with my parents was the best thing for me. That way they always knew where I was and gave me less to worry about. They had also never been keen on me moving out before 'the right time', as they put it, even before I left. It just seemed like the best option for the three of us.

Putting the kettle on, I went through the cupboards to find some cups and a spoon. I prepared the cups and then continued looking around the kitchen. It was a standard kitchen, although it did seem a tad bare. That probably came with living alone - there was never any real need to stock up on items because the only person it mattered to was themselves. Although on that note I could understand why his mother was concerned about him.

Once the kettle had boiled, I poured the water into the cups and stirred. After I was done, I rinsed the spoon and checked my watch. I had until ten to help Frost improve his formal-wear as I was expected at my father's company at half ten. He was impressed with the organisation I did last time and wanted me to go through the archives and organise those. It wasn't all that interesting to be spending my days alone like that but if I was helping my father out, then that's all that mattered.

I was taking a sip of my milky coffee when Frost stepped into the kitchen, dressed and looking decent. "Here I was hoping that I'd imagined you," he muttered, grabbing his own steaming coffee.

"I'm afraid not!" I replied, cupping my other hand around my drink. "Now, I only have until ten to help you but since I know what to look for, that shouldn't be a problem."

"What if I have something going on now?" he questioned.

I frowned. "Your mother said that you were free all morning."

Frost ducked his head and took a mouthful of coffee. He didn't seem too thrilled to see me this morning but I was determined to keep my word to his mother. He might be stubborn and not want to become the son that his parents want, but I was just as stubborn about not letting him back out. I was familiar with the road that he was dangerously headed and even though I didn't know him very well, I didn't want him to head that way.

We left his place twenty minutes later with Frost dragging his feet and muttering about wanting to head back to bed. It might have been early for him but it was certainly not early for the average person. It took us ten minutes to arrive at the shop I had already decided on, and as I led Frost through the shop, I checked my watch. It was eight forty. That left us with plenty of time to ensure he found better clothing to wear so that he represented his family better.

"This place seems posh," he muttered as we stopped by some clothing.

"That's because it is," I said, gesturing to the shirt directly in front of us. "What you wear represents your family, no matter how much you attempt to distance yourself from them. You have to look good, look presentable, and you have to wear it nicely. And it's more than just putting on a nice suit, before you begin to protest. Anyone can wear a suit and look like they matter, but hardly any of them do matter. You matter because your family name matters, and you should never put your needs before that of your family name unless you drop it. Why? Because your family name doesn't just belong to you - it belongs to your parents, any siblings you might have, and any of your extended family that share the name. Your selfish acts should not affect them."

He frowned. "But I--"

"I never said you as in you, Frost Hillary, but that in general, you don't want to commit an act that has consequences for innocent people, do you?" I didn't give him time to answer before I pulled him along, away from that shirt and towards where the suits were kept. "Now, I'm not an expert at dressing people, I must admit, but I do know how to tell when something suits you or not."

Frost was reluctant to take what I was offering him, scrunching his nose up at the item. "I'm not really a fan of shopping," he admitted. "Couldn't you have just improved what I have already?"

"No. Now go and try that on. I'll collect some others and meet you at the changing rooms." With that, I shooed him off and continued to look around at the different suits, remembering to take into account his unusual hair colour that would potentially clash with some of the colours. While black was the most common suit colour to wear, it wasn't the only one someone could wear to a formal function, and with his hair, I was thinking that maybe a grey one would suit him better. That way there wouldn't be such a stark contrast, but I didn't completely dismiss the colour.

I approached the changing rooms just as he left the cubicle, trying to fix the shoulders of the jacket he was wearing. I hung the items I had in the cubicle next to his and then helped fix how they sat on his shoulders, folding the tag down his back and making sure the tail covered the shirt he was wearing. He turned to the mirror and studied his reflection before letting out a huff. "I look ridiculous."

"I disagree."

"I didn't ask for your opinion, did I?" he retorted, crossing his arms and staring at the mirror. "This is so stiff. How are these supposed to be better than what I already have?"

I shrugged and took a different suit from the other cubicle. "The designer. These are significantly more expensive than what you wore when we first met - I don't even have to know where you bought it from to know that. It's just noticeable when you know what expensive stuff looks like," I explained, handing him the other suit and ushering him into the cubicle.

He shuffled in and drew the curtain, leaving me to sit on the chair that sat against the wall. "I have a question," Frost called from behind the curtain.

"What is it?"

"How come my mother decided now to seek your help?"

"I've just returned from studying," I replied.

He poked his head out of the cubicle and furrowed his eyebrows. "You left home to study?"

My palms grew clammy and I found that I had a lump in my throat. "U-uh, yeah. There was this institution that my father attended, and he wanted me to go to the same place he did."

"So you know what it's like to be away from your parents?"

I hesitated and wiped my hands on the fabric of the seat next to mine. "I suppose."

"What did you study?"

Not wanting to continue with this conversation, I stood up and fixed my coat. "We are not having this conversation," I said, stepping into the other cubicle and pulling out the other suits. "I don't think what you're putting on will compliment your hair. Try one of these."

He slid back into the changing room and I looked down at my hand, the trembling becoming noticeable. I grabbed it with my other hand and held it against my body. That was close.