After meeting {{user}}’s parents for the first time, I developed an odd insecurity about how I spoke. My fiancé came from a noble family. While her childhood was spent in the innermost wall of Paradis, mine was spent in the underground city.

The way I spoke was improper compared to the people she was used to and grew up with. I held a pronunciation book in my veiny hands as I recited the words like her father and mother did.

“Readin’…ugh, reading…?”

It all felt so unnatural. I slammed the book down on the counter and huffed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Shit…I mean, shoot.”

I scoffed. No way was I giving up cursing. It was the only way I could express myself accurately.