[1] taupe

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Warning:

This story will contain some gore/vulgar/triggering scenes which some/all might find heavy. Please refrain from continuing if it anyhow triggers/ offends/ hurts you.

The chapters are long and some parts are verbose. If you want or like shorter chapters, please do not proceed.

This is my first attempt in writing anything and I have adapted a certain writing pattern for this particular story and I do not plan to change that any time soon. If that bothers you, just skip the story. :)

This story is published on Wattpad under the username issame30

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taupe: contentment and delicate and stubborn


"I want to get hit by a truck." Emma divulged, a stubborn panic lacing her tone.

Nothing abnormal.

Her chest heaved up in a sharp intake of breath and fell almost in a calm. "I don't want to fuck it up." Her wary gaze stuck on the road, her teeth scraping the soft flesh of her lips. "A deal with the Adams could be our break, you know what I mean?"

The vehicle swerved at the next exit, and I held the papers closer. Balancing the sample prints on my lap, I reached for the cold avocado imbued sandwich, placed on the dashboard. My hands were slow. No, my instincts were. Before the corner of my fingers could support, the sandwich swept down, on the car floor and a harsh whip pushed me to the side. A heavy-duty dusty old truck rushed past. The gravel beneath crunched like thousands of coins had tumbled off in an ear shattering noise making the windows rattle.

If only had the truck been a little off-track. Tempting.

"I am sorry but this break of yours is going to break our bones." I pointed out to lighten the tension inside the closed space of our car. Hopefully. Rather I received a sharp glare. It clearly didn't work. Upsetting. "By the looks of your driving." I clarified. "You've worked enough and so did I. If they like the plans and the paintings, they'll offer us the deal. If not, they won't. That's about that."

"No, Charlotte. It's just— your plans are good." A light scoff blurred her tone. "Not good, they are great. Really. But these big corporations are all about how well you market your products." Her lips pursed, brows creasing in some thought. "I don't want to be the reason for us not the getting the deal."

My eyes perked in amusement. "You," A chuckled filled with humor escaped my lips. "You are the one that made this work. I don't want to be the reason." I mimicked her shrill tone.

Emma did not answer. The burden of modesty she carried all the time didn't let her. I looked out of the window entering the sumptuous part of the city and sprouts of tension crawled across my nerves. "Couldn't we have this meeting at a normal place?"

"It was their call." Emma shrugged resetting the GPS. "They must be making surplus cash to be able to hold a meeting at The Mortgz."

"It feels illegal to say Mortgz without the the." Confusion sipped inside and spilled in the form of questions. "Is the g silent or the t? We'll get to walk inside that place, that's— that feels surreal."

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