Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

42. As You Wish

"He intruded on something he shouldn't have. I haven't figured out how I feel about the whole situation yet." I fidgeted with the fabric of my dress, unwilling to meet her gaze. I didn't want to tell her the full story; she still had only a vague idea about why I came to live with them. Caleb and John had given her a few details and her over-active imagination had filled in the rest.

"Well, here's a novel idea— talk to the kid."

"I don't know what I would say," I grumbled, messing with the delicate gold rings covering my fingers.

"Just promise me you'll try. You two actually seem really good for each other," Jas sighed, pinning the last curl into place.

"I still can't believe Sebastien wanted us to dress up. He's never pulled this shit before," I grumbled, successfully changing the topic. Jas eyed me sadly, but didn't comment. Frowning, I adjusted my still aching breasts beneath the dark fabric. The dress had thankfully prevented a bra so I was spared any further bruising.

"I think it's kind of festive." she shrugged, fussing over a curl that had slipped free.

"I guess. I shouldn't even be working tonight. The bastard knows it's my birthday."

"Didn't some rich fucker like 'request' you though?"

"Do you know how many rich fuckers request me every night? He's just being a prick because I changed the music last week," I growled, collapsing onto my bed so that I could strap myself into the monstrous gold Manolo Blahnik's. Gold straps wrapped delicately around my legs all the way up to my calves and were topped off with a six inch heel. Jas had insisted we buy them earlier that day, claiming that they were yet another gift from Caleb and John. They were making it pretty damn hard for me to stay mad at Caleb and they knew it. How could you hold a grudge against someone who was trying so damn hard to kiss up? Plus, there were fucking Manolo.

"Those shoes are fucking perfect," Jas swooned, fingering one of the curlers holding her blonde hair back. Lucky bitch, she just got to get ready for my party at the Delta Chi house. Technically it didn't start until ten, but Davies had invited a few people over early for last minute prep.

"How pissed do you think he'd be if I called in sick?"

"He'd probably hunt you down and drag you there even in those ratty sweatpants you love." I just rolled my eyes and groaned. I knew she was right, Sebastien was a determined little man and his job was the most important thing in the world to him. He'd stumbled in one night sick as shit with the flu and had insisted on running everything from his office. Technically, it wasn't a health code violation as long as he stayed locked away— or at least that was what he'd claimed. Talk about priorities. Personally, I wouldn't have been alive if I was suffering from the worst illness since the plague, but apparently Sebastien and I wouldn't be able to ever see eye to eye on anything.

"God, he needs to get laid," I grumbled, sitting up and reaching for the black garment bag that held my costume change for later in the evening. My dress for the party was literally the same one I was wearing now, but shorter. I'd ordered the two to be custom made seven months ago and they was epic. The designer, Vida Tramelle, was one of my favorites and she'd been dealing with my particular taste for around five years or so; she was my go-to for special events.

"Do you have everything? You don't want to have to come back here later."

"Yes, mom. I have my lunch money and backpack," I quipped, grinning mischievously at her.

"Hush it before I spank you."

"You know, that's not as appealing when it's you threatening me rather than the Darling Professor." My smirk was full blown now.