The Darker Exterior

Chapter 10

When Atticus pulled up to his restaurant, I was slightly confused. I don't know where I was really expecting him to take me, but the penthouse here was not what I pictured.

"Sorry, my house is being remodeled, and is pretty far from here, so this is our abode for the night. I that alright?" Atticus asked, putting his car in park.

"Of course," I respond, grabbing my bag from my feet as Atticus gets out. When I began to open my door, I felt it pushed shut against me. With a frown, I looked at Atticus, who was smirking at me through the window.

"Ms. Vidal, did you just try to open your own car door?" he asked, opening it for me.

"I'm an independent woman, I can open my own car door," I tease.

"Oh, I know you can Ms. Vidal, but you should never have to," he responded, taking my hand. 

I pinched my lips together in anticipation as we walked into the restaurant, past employees and customers alike, to a price-looking elevator. Atticus reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key as we entered, pressing it into a small keyhole and pressing a button.

"What is that?" I ask curiously. Atticus gives me a small smile.

"Well, I can't have just anyone walking into my penthouse, can I?" he asks with a small wink. I let out a small laugh and impatiently waited until we were inside his penthouse. 

When the elevator doors opened, I was welcomed by a clean penthouse with a wall of clear windows. I assumed they were tinted, but they gave such a beautiful view of the city. 

There was a large set of black couches and a TV in the left corner of the room, and what I assumed was the kitchen on the right.

"It's beautiful. And clean," I remark, stepping inside.

"I've hired a cleaning service to service the place every month. I don't stay here too often unless I'm working hands-on in the restaurant. I kind of miss it, to be honest. I prefer hands-on work, not paperwork," he responds, "the bedroom is down the hall by the way. I'll take the couch tonight," he rubbed my arm gently before walking into the kitchen.

I walked down the hall and opened the bedroom door. It was beautiful and matched the rest of the penthouse with its dark theme, but it almost looked like a blank canvas. There was nearly no color anywhere. My bright pink bag looked almost cartoonish sitting in the middle of the room. The door to a small balcony was slightly open, a cool breeze floating into the room, causing the small, sheer, black curtains to lift slightly. 

I exited the room and walked down the hall, looking at the walls. Everywhere I looked was still blank. I felt like I was walking through a newspaper or an old movie. It was strangely eerie.

"You like it?" Atticus called, staring at me from the kitchen with a laugh. He was rummaging through the fridge.

"It's very nice, but feels very blank. It looks a little bit sad," I admit, hopping onto a bar stool that sat next to his kitchen island.

"As I said, I don't stay here much," he repeated, pouring a glass of water from his faucet.

"It's a shame. It kinda seems like a waste of space. It's pretty big," I say, looking around at the tall ceilings.

"Well, it won't be wasted tonight. Two people have never stayed the night in it together, so enjoy being the first," he winked at me, "the bed is pretty comfy. I have silk pillowcases too."

"You realize we can both sleep in that bed, right?" I ask, "it's huge."

He nods and sips his water before replying, "we could, but I think that's a risky decision. I'd like to think I'm mature, Ms. Vidal, considering my age, but if I was forced to sleep next to you and not be able to touch you, I think I may pass away. Not to be frank, of course."