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“Past your bedtime?” I cock a grin, and she crosses her arms so quickly, I wouldn’t be surprised if she stomped one of her feet.
She shakes her head. “No.”
“It’s fine if you are. I can walk her back to the room after we…” I tilt my chin to Espie before I forget why I wasn’t looking at her in the first place. Her eyes are fearful of what I’m about to say, which gives me a little sense of happiness. Which makes me feel a little better than fucking with her this way, still does that for me.
“After you?” Olive draws out, arching a brow.
“After we look around the garden some more.” Espie tilts her eyes from mine and I know I’ve upset her, just not sure when the initial offense was.
“Actually, I’m rather tired.” Espie forces a yawn and takes a step from me. As she does, it’s like my equilibrium has been slightly affected. A part of me is with her, and it hurts when she pulls away— more than it should and more than I care to admit.
I think it’s because I was so close again, close to drawing her into my room tonight and sealing the deal that will break ours. There’s a strange feeling lingering in the pit of my stomach as I watch them walk away, and I think I should give up, at least for tonight.
* * *
I lay in bed,eyes glued to the ceiling, limbs buzzing with the feeling of being so close to Espie. My eyes trace the fan as it spins around until I’m dizzy, and it’s a lot like how I’ve felt since meeting Espie. Except, before, I used to hate the feeling— despised the constant reminder of my annoying future wife. Now I’ve grown to like it.
It’s most easily described as someone really loving that spinning teacup ride, but getting motion sickness on them every time. My problem is that I’m stuck in the teacup, spinning around so much that I’ve forgotten how it feels to be still. And I know when I get off, I’ll feel sick for a bit because of it, all, but I’ll be out of this arrangement. Parting ways with Espie is for the best, and in the end, I’m giving her what she deserves— someone who can truly connect and care for her. Again, not that I truly care about that… but it’s a nice parting gift.
Look at me, I’m beingnice. OldOtetswould be even more disgusted with me than he is right now.
I’m disgusted with myself. Two months alone with my supposed future bride, and I haven’t been able to fuck her yet. Instead, I got her off, and I’m going to spend another night stroking myself to release until I can fall asleep.
The more I think about all of these dynamics and things I don’t really ever give myself time to think about, I feel a bit sick. Either I smoke and get drunk to stop thinking, or… I grab my phone off the pillow beside mine and type out a message to Espie.
“Hey, meet me in the library elevator in thirty minutes.”
If she’s already asleep, I’ll drop it, but I’m not going to go another second thinking when I could be doing. I swing my legs over the bedside and jog to the door, whipping it open to see a tall figure hovering in front of me. My heart leaps as I jump back. The figure turns its head on a dense mass that could loosely be referred to as a neck. He eyes me up and down before turning around to face me.
I reach for my knife before I realize I’ve already changed, and I’m only wearing my marled sweats from Balenciaga.
“Hi.” I force a smile and the beast that would put The Rock to shame speaks in a gnarly low voice.
“I’m Von.” His Russian accent is thick, and I’m trying to assess what he’s here for and why. He hasn’t lunged at me just yet, so surely I’m not in too much danger. If he did lunge, though, I would certainly die.
“Great.” I force out through grit teeth. “Why are you in front of my door, Von?”
“The Sicilians told Von to guard yours and Ms. San Giovanni’s door.”
“Oh,” I shift my jaw. “Did they now?” He stiffly nods. “Well, I don’t know if they failed to mention this, but I’m in charge.”
His face drops a little, like he’s trying to understand, and then he shakes his meatball of a head. “I didn’t—“
“It’s quite alright. Please head up to the top floor library. I believe that one is in need of guarding. Those doors need to be guarded because of the French windows overlooking the town.”
He blinks at me for too long, and I’ve already grown impatient withbeef-for-brains.
“Go on.” I shoo him with the backs of my hands, and he hops to the left, stomping off like a friendly giant towards the stairwell. With a new speed— because I’m not sure who else is in on this little spy game— I sprint down the hall, going straight to one of the bedrooms on this level that I know has a bottle rack with someTaste of Diamondschampagne.It’s the room where I ditched the fairy lights and tent that was meant for tonight. I thumb through the rack when I arrive, finally finding the one I was after and then as I'm leaving, I grab two flute glasses off of the bar table and then, I notice the fur blankets that I think could aid in my seducing. So I grab the white and brown one, swinging them over my shoulder and sprintgin out the door, heading over to the stairs in a rushed, quiet way, avoiding the squeaky bits of wood along the hall. I grab the battery operated fairy lights and rip the entire comforter and pillows off the bed in the room.
They are a dark shimmery blue that, I think, have been here since before I was born. I wrap them around myself, and over my head, the thick down material weighing me down substantially. Their darkness will aid in camouflaging me on the way to the elevator.
That's the hope, anyway.
I quietly exit the room, closing the door behind me and quietly walking across the floor runner, back down the hallway, again making sure to avoid all the creaky bits of wood.
Just as I reach the staircase elevator, I hear heavy footsteps up the hallway and some quiet but aggressive whispering.
I hop around the corner again, shading myself from the open hallway. Two guards step up to the floor and look around like they sense something is off. I hold my breath, hoping they don’t spot me. And then I realize, I haven’t fucking gone through the shit I have to act like a scared little kid desperate to escape. So, I step out into the more lit area, only by moonlight from the windows, and the boys turn around.
