𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆

Yugen (n.) - An awareness of the universe that triggers emotional responses too deep for words.

Anastasia

Hesitantly, I place my fist on the cold wood of the door, striking my fist against it.

"Wait for a second!" Vincenzo's voice croaked from behind the door.

The curiosity overcame me as I pressed my ear to the door; the only thing I could hear was the quiet scuffle and very faint voices. It was a masculine, thick Italian voice, clearly belonging to Vincenzo. Then a high, annoying feminine voice.

Sighing in annoyance I frown; he was really having sex when he wanted to talk to me, it obviously can't be that urgent. Becoming impatient and aggravated, my foot began to tap against the cold floor.

Only a few seconds later, the door sprung open.

Finally, the girl reveals herself, dressed in a tight cocktail dress, her face decorated, over generously in makeup, the look finally being completed with a smirk plastered on her face as she stood there thinking she had actually done something, you know as side pieces do.

She sniggered at me, turning up her plastic nose as she began walking away catching my shoulder with hers.

"Anastasia, what kept you?" He asked, straightening out his suit and ruffling with his hair.

"I'd ask you the same thing, but I think I know that already," I reply, scrunching my nose in much distaste.

He rolls his eyes, glaring into mine.

"This relationship is a deal, an alliance. We are not in love so, therefore you can't have an issue with my sex life."

"I don't have a problem with your sex life, as long as you're discrete and it doesn't mess with my time of the day." I reason.

His glare became harsher.

"For the record, Vincenzo. That was neither discrete nor did it not intervene with my day."

"Why do you care if we aren't discrete."

"In case you haven't realized, women here love to gossip. Moreover, I refuse to be the gossip because my husband is openly screwing a new prostitute every day! I refuse to become that much of a joke. Not for you." I spat.

"Whatever," He sighed, running his large hands through his now messy hair.

Walking past him, I take a seat in his office.

"Cut the crap, Vincenzo. Why am I here?" I ask, impatiently.

His eyes met mine, in an even harder glare. However, he kept his calm.

"Tell me, Anastasia. What might your experience with pills be, sleeping pills to be precise." He asked bluntly.

We aren't having this conversation.

"What?" I ask, playing dumb.

"Sleeping pills," He repeated.

"Hm, why don't you tell me if you think you know it all." I hiss, getting ready to stand up.

"I want to hear your perspective of your problems."

"Now, why would you want to do that?" I ask, my eyes in a harsh glare as I cross my arms.

"You're avoiding the question." He growled, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah, I'll answer you because you're all so nice to me." I spit sarcastically, clenching my fist softly.