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"Y'know you're known as a whore back here." He glided his hands around your waist massaging at it. It felt nice but you didn't know the guy but heard a lot about him. You grabbed his wrists to remove them, "Did you call me back here just to degrade me or some shit? If you're gonna fire me then do it! Quit being so fucking extra." You spat, finally removing his hands as his grip wavered, you spun around and sat at the edge of his desk facing him. The look in his eyes had changed to one's of anger and pity, though his smile didn't falter.
"Degrade you? I'm just telling the truth," He shrugged, "All the strippers here are sluts.—Whores! Do you wanna be a dirty whore, Y/n?" He stepped in front of you, putting his hands on each side of you, resting them on the desk.
"Nigga back the fuck up." You sneered, slightly pushing his shoulder back "You're on MY desk. You're mad because I called you a slut? Look how you're dressed, here and out there," He leaned in closer, almost to your ear and continued. "Just calm down, 'kay? I still haven't even made my offer yet." He cooed.
"I've got an offer. If you don't back the hell up I'm allowed to back hand the shit outta you." You pushed his shoulder harder, hearing him kiss his teeth in disapproval.
The music had been off for a while, leaving you both in a loud silence with a soft ringing playing in your ears. Your senses had gone sensitive. Your hearing felt enhanced as if you could hear every strand of hair move on the man who leaned in front of you.
"You done? Is your little tantrum over?" He taunted you as if you were a little girl. "Shut the hell up." You smoothed your hand over the desk, leaning back a bit.
"That's no way to talk to your boss. My feelings are so hurt." He pouted. You had looked at him weirdly and huffed
"Y/n," He leaned back in, in a serious tone "Would you like to become mine? Just mine." He tilted his head.
Was he really asking you this? To become his? what does he even mean? We haven't talked that much and he asks a question like that? Is he mad?! Why'd he ask in the first place?
His staring felt emotionless and intense. Is he being serious?
Just his. His words felt like they were playing on repeat as you processed his question.
"No—No! What the hell?!" Your brows furrowed in anger and confusion. You had a job, bills and many other things to take care of.
He could've asked any other question in the world but your first conversation had to be some irritable, stupid question. You enjoyed this job but are you willing to give it up for a man you just met? Your boss for a matter of fact.
"Oh. Well that's unfortunate." You'd grown cautious of the man in front of you as he backed away, you stayed silent. "Mmh, I didn't really expect you to say no." He hummed a tune and went to the basically empty bookshelf on the right and picked up a book and flipped through it, closing it loudly, chuckling to himself.
"I'm sorry for asking a question like that. How about I get you a drink, lovely?" His entire mood had changed to sorrowful, and sweet. You soon felt bad for the harshness you gave him and still irritated, agreeing to the drink.
He walked out the room and came back after a couple of minutes, using the excuse that he was trying to find the perfect drink for the perfect woman.
"It's fizzy," You looked at the drinks in his hands, one fizzy looking like sprite and the other looking like water. "yeah? You don't like carbonated drinks?" He said in a confused tone. Why was he acting like this? His whole attitude changed. Why?
"They're fine, but why aren't they both fizzy or flat?" You questioned. You're not gonna not ask questions from a guy who never really talked to, who gave you a drink from another room. This had gotten you curious on what he had read in that book, it looked like something specific.
"I just want the best for a pretty lady," He smiled cheekily. You hopped off his desk and walked towards him watching as he put the fizzy drink forward, "I want the flat one." you cooed, he nodded happily and handed you the flat drink and you took it slowly and looked back up at him.
"Calm down its just water." He huffed and took a sip of his, going to his desk. You sighed and took a sip of yours and calmed down a bit.
Izana chuckled quietly, "Nigga what?" you spat, the drink tasted kind of good even though he said it was water, did he put some sugar in it or something? Weirdo. You took a bigger sip and continued until the cup was empty. Holding yourself up on a pole was hard work and had you thirsty.
"Nothing. I'm just surprised you didn't pass out yet." He folded his hands on the desk, leaning back.
"What the hell are you-" You couldn't finish your sentence as your whole world turned black. Your heaved, your throat burned, your body tingled and burned. Your body felt as if it were on fire, it felt like someone was pulling at your hair with an iron grip, and your teeth felt like they were gonna fall out. It felt like your whole world was ending, you were in so much pain and only heard a muffled laugh of the man who sat at the desk a few feet away from you.
