A book in which you, the infamous ability stealer, are the newest member of the Port Mafia and as witty as they come. Being the constant centre of attention, you have managed to catch the eye of the notorious young executive; Chuuya Nakahara, but no...
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A/N - I highly recommend that you press play on the song above and let it run throughout this chapter! ;)
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You were currently sitting in your office, at your desk, trying to force yourself to do some work otherwise you were going to get into even more trouble with Mori; you were already on his bad side, and even though you didn't particularly like that man, as a notorious people pleaser, you still wanted and craved his approval.
How lame, [Y/N]. How lame.
You hated writing reports with a burning passion, and you hated sending emails because of how annoyingly repetitive they were, so you usually left those until the very last minute and then ended up regretting it with every fibre of your being, which was your current situation, and if you didn't send out these emails and finish this report by the end of today, then you were literally going to be berated to hell and back by that stupid old man, and you didn't think that you could mentally or physically handle anymore chastising.
Ugh.
The word document on your laptop screen was staring right at you; as blank as that cesspool you called a brain. It was blinking at you, waiting for you to write something. Anything. Even just one meaningless letter of the alphabet that had led to gobbledygook. Letting out an exasperated sigh because you'd much rather be in the comfort of your own bed with the luxury of binge watching whatever show had newly piqued your interest, your hands fell on your keyboard, hesitating over the keys for a full minute or two.
And just as you were about to start typing—your stomach began rumbling like the prelude to a major thunderstorm; it was so loud that you suspected it was going to start eating itself if you didn't do anything about it soon. Fucking hell.
You hadn't eaten anything since breakfast this morning—which really wasn't much other than a vanilla iced latte and a piece of toast with butter. It was now a little past lunchtime, meaning that it had been several hours since then—and you were hungry as fuck. You closed your eyes for a few moments, as if that would will your hunger to go away any faster. Right now, you had no time to eat—the only way you could possibly eat was after you had completed all your work so that you didn't have to worry about it for the rest of the day. If you left the building and headed to a café or something now, then you were never going to come back and finish off this goddamn report. You would have used that as an excuse to procrastinate even more than you had already been doing for the past couple of days, and that would have landed you into even more trouble that you did not covet; you already had a whole pile of trouble suffocating you, any more and you would have been as good as dead.
One of the main troubles was the fact that the Guild were after you, or, as Mori had stated yesterday, what was left of them. Honestly, the fact that you had murdered Francis in cold-blood had completely slipped your mind until the meeting, where it had been brought up much to your complete and utter surprise, and then you were put on the fucking spot, until Chuuya had defended you because he was literally the best boyf—
