Angel (#4) | ✐

o7. Untamable

               I watch in intrigue as Angel sits in the office, eyes scanning the papers in front of him. I stand at a distance, by the bar in a spot where I can get a good view of him and the rest of my regular clients at the same time.

I don't know whether to be flattered or nervous about how this entire thing went down, but the longer I stare at him, the less I seem to care about what all he knows about me.

Or maybe he just has that effect on me. Making me forget why I was even angry in the first place. But then, I glance at the small tattoo on the inside of my middle finger, and I'm thrown back into the words he said earlier.

I'm, somehow, not shocked that he knows. He kills people for his criminal family for a living - there's no surprise that he did his research on the woman who robbed him. What surprises me is that he's made it his prerogative to keep a watchful eye over me.

He doesn't think I can take care of myself, but I'm sure years of doing what I do is enough proof that I'm more than capable of more than whatever he expects of me.

"Jesus, he's gorgeous." Rowan's soft purr draws me from my sinking thoughts and to her blue outfit, her arms covered in fishnets as she sips her bottle of water. Her teeth are new, just as she'd told me they would be. "Do you think he makes love or fucks?"

I roll my eyes, "Please get away with that cringy shit. He's not Christian Grey nor is he here to have sex with his employees."

She exhales sharply, "I forgot about that. Did you have your meeting already?"

Shaking my head gingerly, I tap my fingers against the bar countertop. My eyes track Angel as he leans back in his seat and presses his phone to his ear. Obviously, he's on the phone, but the nosey part of me wants to know with who.

I reel that part in and instead, turn my attention to Grey who is serving customers on the other side of the bar.

"Did you?" I return the question as a courtesy.

Her mouth twists and I get my answer, "Y'know, he met with Chrissy first." I purse my lips. Of course I know, I've been watching him since the night started. "Pretty sure she was about to drop down and suck his dick. I mean, I would so I don't blame her, but I wanna do it first at least."

A huff of quiet laughter escapes me. That's an aspiration if I've ever heard of one.

Luckily, no one brought up the fact that we walked in together, but I guess I can chalk that up to the building practically being empty when we arrived. Either way, information always has a way of getting around, so I know I'm not in the clear yet.

"What happened to not touching the boss?" I ask though I can already tell what she's about to say from the way she's about to start drooling.

"Well, for starters, he's young enough to not be all of our dads." She says, "Also, have you seen his smile?"

I feel something nip at my chest. It doesn't sit right with me that other people have witnessed what his smile does to a room. It feels like something only I should know about, but I guess I can neither be selfish nor expect a certain privilege when it comes to him. If anything, I should be feeling anything but whatever I'm feeling right now.

I need a drink.

Six shots later, I'm sipping from a bottle of water in the locker room. Two of those shots were taken during a floor dance and the rest at the bar. Grey reluctantly gave me my fifth and sixth, but he trusts me enough to keep my head on straight and control myself.

I'm not completely on my ass, but it was enough to significantly loosen my nerves and have me staring at myself in the vanity mirror with hooded eyes. I analyze every visible part of my body in a slightly different light than the last time I was here.

Why am I here?

Did I really allow this man to pull me out of my apartment and shake my ass for a couple of hundred dollars? Did I really allow myself to get caught up in him and end up in a position I told myself I wouldn't get back into? This is so irresponsible of me.

The room is empty, seeing as it's now five in the morning and everyone has left, but something is keeping me here.

Could it be the fact that I'm drunk at five in the morning? Could it be that I didn't drive here so now I'm hoping who did will take me back? Or could it be that I'm hoping his smile can be the one good thing of my day and I haven't seen it since my shift started?

Either way, I seem to have my questions answered when I glance up and see him. He leans against the open door frame, suit jacket removed and the sleeves to his white button-up rolled up to reveal his forearms. His arms are crossed over his broad chest and the longer I look, the more severe the flashbacks are.

His eyes are like the eyes of a judge - piercing, tantalizing as they stare me down through the mirror. They're unreadable, unavoidable, untamable. And yet, looking into his irises that are so clear even from afar, I want to keep looking at them, keep reading them, attempting to tame them.

Or maybe I'm too drunk.

I blink, breaking eye contact. My eyes transfer to my shoes, observing as they wrap around my legs, stopping above my knees. I remove my wig and place it on the table, letting my straight backs free.

"Your bartender friend told me how much you drank tonight." He says, his tone soft as he approaches me. Despite my best efforts, I can't help but look up, meeting his heterochromatic eyes through the reflection.

My lips form a pout, "It wasn't that much."

He tilts his head and I suddenly feel like a child, anticipating some sort of scolding, "That's not what he said." I try to ignore the feeling of his body looming behind mine with his scent of vanilla. He's the first man I've known to proudly wear vanilla, and part of me is happy about that. Not in a malicious way, but because it shows what type of person he is, eager to be his own self.

"Well, fuck what he said." I try my hardest to contain my tongue and keep the slurring in my diction to a minimum. "You should learn to come to me if you have a question about me."

"So I've gathered, tesoro." The corner of his lips lifts, "You hungry?"

I hide my slight excitement behind a frown and narrowed eyes, "Maybe. Why?"

He bites his plump lip and releases it, "Put on some warm clothes. We can leave when you're ready."

very... very short but i have a bit of writer's block so enjoy these fillerssssss