𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 ✓ [𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍𝐄]

✎chapter twenty three × cyanide clouds*

manhattan, new york
clayton hotel
ten nineteen pm
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[nsfw]

I can't say I don't miss New York. It's been four years since I last stepped foot in the U.S and yet somehow I'm only being hit with homesickness as we arrive.

It started as a churning in my chest that I excused as nerves - we haven't come here for the most ethical reason. But seeing the cars on the other side of the ride and 50 year old delis on every street corner kind of hits a certain spot for me.

And then there was the hotel. One of the topmost floors of a lavish building. It's rainy and foggy even on this dark spring night and the building is so high up, we're in the cloud line. I stick my hand out the window and feel the clouds. I laugh at myself for expecting something, resistance or push. When I pull my hand out, it's just a bit damp.

When I'm done indulging in childish fantasies, I look at myself in the mirror. My makeup is done only lightly and the still present dark circles under my eyes make me look like a resentful raccoon, but in an almost symbolic way. Like I've earned my stripes or something.

It reflects the rest of me, tired and sore from trip after trip. Suffice it to say, the past few weeks likely have turned me off from travel for a very long time.

I focus my attention on the black dress tucked neatly into a garment bag that hangs on the closet door. There's a certain iridescence to it, a sort shifting purple ambiance that reminds me everything is not what it seems.

I take down the dress and slip it on and of course it fits perfectly, Angelo never guesses wrong. It falls over my skin like water and barely feels like anything against it. The exaggerated slit is something I've managed to get used to. I adjust the straps and then head over to the dresser where two box's labeled BVLGARI sit. I open the smaller of the two and pull the earrings from it, small white gold rings studded with diamonds.

The bigger box contains the matching necklace that my manicures fingers fiddle with for at least five minutes before I give up and walk myself and the necklace out into the siting room.

Angelo sits on the couch fully dressed in anArmani suit, his ringed hand cupping a glass of wine.

"Can you put this on for me please?" I ask, handing him the necklace.

He nods a he sips, finally setting the wine down and standing up to take the necklace. I lift my hair so he has an easier time and he splays the pendant over my collarbone. I hold it in place while he works the clasp. Finally, it's locked and I turn to face Angelo.

"How do I look?" I ask with a lopsided smile.

He returns the cheeky grin, tucking a hand under my chin.