Can You Feel It?

01.

ARTEMIS/KAYA

I often used to wonder why people wished they couldn't feel. Why they thought that emotions were a chore.

By the time I turned 9, I'd started to get my answer.

The day I turned 13, I realized my condition was a blessing in disguise.

Still, sometimes curiosity burned within me and misplaced emotions tried to get themselves recognized.

I felt gazes of strangers trailing over me as I walked past them, smiling slightly and as if completely at ease.

How would one actually feel if they were in my position, limited to just flaunting their body and preying on the lust of misguided men for even worse motives?

I had yet to know.

But my practiced smiles and sly expressions, my glassy tears and my anguished looks....

They were tailored into my personality as if I truly felt them.

I couldn't.

Or well...I suppose at this point it was a conscious effort. I refused to feel them, acknowledge them. To better my condition.

Because it'd be useless to feel in a cruel world that only had variations of pain to offer me.

And my sole weapon against anyone.....

Was my condition.

The cars honked, an array of colors moving at a slow pace in the Chicago traffic.

But they didn't lie when they said that practice makes perfect.

And I'd perfected it so well that sometimes I questioned whether I wasn't a psychopath who could fake emotions.

Slightly at home amongst all the noise from the traffic, I made my way to the entrance of my new home for the next four months.

I looked to the left side, spotting the connected restaurant and coffee shop that were a ten minute walk, right across the street on the left.

Emile's Alimento.

The area was mainly filled with apartment buildings and working roads but a few offices were occupying certain floors.

When I was told this was to be my new home for the next four months, I'd naturally started to learn anything and everything about the place.

My Jimmy Choo heels clicked on the pavement as I walked into the classy apartment building. Heading straight for the elevator, I pushed the button for the 8th floor.

Erex would be home right now.

I knew because I'd memorized his schedule. He usually followed the same pattern unless something urgent came up or he had a case to address. Not very smart for an agent like himself but who was I to judge if it made my job easy. And I couldn't underestimate him.

Erex was a man of routine and both my own sleuthing and Marcello's had given a roughly accurate idea of how the Agent spent his days.

I had a perfect plan devised for our first meeting and hopefully it would go well.

When I walked out of the elevator with the small cake box in my hands, I slowly smiled right before I stopped in front of my new neighbor's door and rang the bell.

After half a minute of waiting, the door finally flung open and a tall man stepped out. He rose a brow, a question forming behind his eyes.

My lips pulled upwards.