CREATURE

・chapter 30・

She glanced back at the building and picked out her apartment, which save for two floors, turned out to be much closer than she'd expected. Upon closer inspection, she could make out her nightstand through her window and remarked that she could effectively spy on him from her room if she should be so inclined.

After absorbing some much-needed sunshine she made her way back inside and drifted into the kitchen, noticing the island counter where most of the previous night's events had unfolded. She firmly decided that being spoon-fed by the star of the Russian ballet was easily one of the most bizarre experiences of her entire life.

As she was making her way to the front door she found herself looking for something to stall with, an excuse to stay longer perhaps. It felt wrong to just... Leave.

Halting in her tracks, she quickly grabbed the notepad and pen on the table in the entryway and copied down a simple, Thank you.

She didn't bother elaborating or signing it off, just tore off the piece of paper, left it on the kitchen counter, and promised herself that now she'd regained some of her sanity she wouldn't be back at apartment 29 again.

・・・

'You did not.' Julian shrieked from the other side of the heavy fitting room curtain. 

Asya snorted and pulled up the dainty zipper on the dress she was trying on, inspecting her reflection carefully in the tall wrap-around mirrors.

It had been her birthday about a month ago, and as per usual her mother had sent over a rather extravagant sum as a present. At the time she'd been too busy to pick out a day to go shopping, but with nothing better to do and Julian near-hauling her out of her apartment, she intended to spend every last dime of her nineteenth birthday present. Bags, shoes, perfume, lingerie, dresses, everything, the more materialistic the better. In her injury-induced prison she needed distraction, and was just as eager to substitute the maternal love she hadn't felt in years with something more tangible. 

Earlier in the afternoon she'd left Roman's apartment and taken a shower, shortly after which Julian turned up. They'd made their way to her all-time favorite high-end designer boutique for a long, long interlude trying on everything she'd missed out on while she was busy at the company.

'I don't know what I was thinking.' she groaned, yanking open the curtains and stepping into the spacious private fitting room they were using. Julian was sprawled out on a plush ivory couch opposite her, surrounded by an armada of snacks, cocktails, and champagne.

'Oh, I know what you were thinking.' Julian teased suggestively, raising his eyebrows at her over the edge of his tulip glass before taking a long sip.

'Absolutely not.' she defended, exhaling tensely. 'I am not having sex with a cocaine addict.'

'Former cocaine addict.' Julian corrected and raised his glass playfully to her.

She grabbed a coat hanger from the small oak coffee table and chucked it viciously at him, which infuriatingly, only made him laugh.

'Back to business, Beck.' she droned, doing a little half-turn to inspect her reflection in the myriad of mirrors.

'Colour is gorgeous on you.' he mused through a mouthful of food, tilting his head slightly to the side. 'And the detail on the hemline is stunning. Might be a bit long though.'

The supremely trained eye of Julian Beck had scared off the horde of luxury sales associates that usually fussed during fittings. Her wardrobe was Julian's pride and joy, and he wasn't about to let some 'good-for-nothing sales people' interfere with his process.