𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

13 || Nightmare

I expect him to protest, and much like everything he's done until this point, be difficult. But he walks forward, slips his hands in his pockets and gives a shrug. "Sign the papers and I'll consider it."

The early morning sun filtering through the windows cast as a glow across his face, his features turning almost angelic but there's a darkness beneath his stare that on any other day I'd grow weary of.

Why is he so eager to get me to sign?

It's a question I'd ponder over, use to exploit him over.

But today, as a pressure begins to form behind my eyelids and the familiar alcohol induced grogginess takes over my senses, I do no such thing.

Without another thought, I turn around, lean over his desk and sign my name.

It's arguably the dumbest thing I've ever done. Reading through it would be the optimal option. His impatience around me signing a clear indication that he's most likely slipped something I won't like in there, but I decide that it's going to be an issue for a day where I'm not emotionally exhausted and dealing with a raging hangover.

The moment the ink is sets on the page, I straighten, turn and slap the pages to his chest before making my way to the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Comes his voice from behind me, and despite being across the room, his voice rings clear and loud.

Fingers to my temple, I turn and heave a sigh. "We can discuss the details of this shit after I've slept my hangover off."

A beat of silence from him before he speaks. "You're drunk." He concludes, tilting his head at me and rolling the contract in his hand up into a cylinder.

"No." I deadpan, my voice as unimpressed as I feel about his observation. "You're presence is just that intoxicating."

He doesn't find my remark funny as he approaches me, but something akin to intrigue sparks in his eyes as he begins to regard me. "You signed your life away, to me while drunk?"

Well, when he put it like that I sounded like i'd stooped to a pathetic low.

Pushing any visible vulnerability aside, I do what feels comfortable. "Does it make you feel bad?" I pout, stepping towards him.

He's so much taller than me when I'm not wearing my heels, I don't even have to change my expression into one of taunting compliance, all I have to do is stare up at him through my lashes. "Does the idea of taking advantage of me stir up your gentlemanly moral compass?"

He seems to find something about that amusing, so amusing that he brushes the submissive look on my face off by urging my chin up with the tip of the papers in his hands. "Not at all."

He doesn't smile but his amusement shines in his eyes. It's dark and rooted in something that'll most likely result in putting me at a serious low and unsettling. So unsettling that I brush his touch off and storm towards the door, my mood dampened by the realisation of who id just gotten into business with.

"I can't wait until you're dead." I murmur under my breath when I get a good distance away from him and towards the door. But it seems like super hearing is one of the countless qualities the man posses because just as I turn the handle, I hear his faint hum.