"𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠."
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 - A twenty-year-old woman with goals and ambitions working in the mafia. She's got people she dislikes but no...
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"What type of material are you thinking for my dress? I kind of want a corset." I inquire, crossing my legs over the end of Amélie's hospital bed.
She throws a few chocolate pieces in her mouth and sips on the water next to her. "Let's go to the mall. Tomorrow is my last day in this hell hole anyways. Then we're off to Italy!"
I nod momentarily, I've been seeing Amélie every day since the time we went to the restaurant. We just automatically clicked after that day and I have been so happy. She makes sure to tell me the times when her brother comes so I can avoid Damien at all times. I don't think I'm ready to see him.
In one quick moment, I'm up and grabbing my bag off the table. Amélie follows after me and we're walking towards my car. She sighs, "so how's work going?"
My eyes widened, "work is great if we look past my 5-month break. However I'm returning next month, I love and miss what I do." I got into the car and started up the engine. "Haven't shot anyone in a while."
Amelie turns to me, "how do you do this? I mean shooting people without hesitation, and working around dangerous people all the time?" She looks back at the road, "I've always wondered how my brothers did it but I figured it was because they were men. But now that I see you, I'm so confused."
I sigh, "I've seen some pretty fucked up shit at the age of 6 so I guess the anger in me makes it easier. My father also did this so I think it's something that got passed down to me."
"That lifestyle isn't for me. Hence why I'm modelling, you know." She pulls out a cigarette from her bag and lights it, moving the stick toward her lips.
"I never noticed how awful smoking cigarettes are until I saw someone else do it. Amélie please put that thing down. I have weed if you're desperate." Charles had told me many times to stop smoking cigarettes but it was just something I couldn't stop doing. Ever since Damien had told me to stop smoking cigs one night, I had never come into contact with one. Seeing his sister light one brought weight to my heart.
She smiles, "just this once, I only smoke it once in a while."
I turn into the parking lot of the mall, "Jesus girl you sound like me. We're at the mall anyways so you can call it quits."
"Yeah, whatever." She laughs as we both exit the car and into the busy mall. "So we're shopping for your dress and if we don't find one, I'll get my mother to sew it for you."
I nod, "why don't we just go to your mother? I mean she's available, right?"
"Yeah but I have a tailor that helps me with my shoots. I haven't seen him in forever so we're visiting him." Amélie grabs my hand and drags me through the mall, we finally reach a large boutique and walk to the back.
Eventually, a short older man appears from behind the marble desk. He gives us a weird look and stares at Amélie for a longer time. For a split second, he holds his chest, "Amélie? Is that you?" His thick French accent questions.
