𝕄𝕠𝕞𝕠𝕜𝕒 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕤𝕒𝕙𝕚****
POV : Momoka's
****
𝔸/ℕ : ℍ𝕚 𝕘𝕦𝕪𝕤 !
ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕟𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 ^_^ !
****
I breath out and gather my courage in order to knock at my boss' door.
Knock. Knock.
Nothing.
I try again.
Knock. Knock. Knoc-
I'm interrupted by the voice of Mister Takuya who tells me to enter.
I open the door, step in and bow at him before he intend me to take a sit in front of him :
- May you sit down please, Mrs Momoka ?
- Y-yes. I simply answer, sitting down on a chair, preparring myself to hear him scolding me in less than five minutes.
He doesn't take that much time before beggining.
- I guess you know why I called you in my office ? He asks, lowering his glasses to see me better.
- Yes. I know why. I answer with a little voice
- Then, would you tell me why ? With a loud voice, I mean. He continues, sarcastically this time.
- Yes.
I take a breath and then starts explaining with a loud voice as he asked :
- Because I opened clumsily a mail sent by a hacker and that lead to the leaking of the personal informations of 100 millions of our clients. The hacker sent more precisely a malware under the cover of a mail sent by my boyfriend.- Oh great then. Because you know that the entirety of the company is currently in a trial in which we are most likely to have a penalty of 10 billion yens minimum at the end of it.
Even if he is still talking with that sarcastic tone of him, I can feel a fragment of anger in his voice.
- Y-yes. And I know that even my life won't be enough to pay you back ! I burst out, tears flooding on my face.
- I guess you also remember that it's not the first time you f*cked the company's things up huh ! He yells at me, outraged, hitting the table with his fist.
This time, I don't understand what he is talking about so I wipe my tears quickly and try to tell him this is the first time something like that which he answers by a simple and neutral : "oh".
I'm very angry at him for yelling at me by error and not apologizing after litteraly humilitaed me for three minutes straight but I don't say anything. Instead, I grab the fabric of my pant and grind it between my fingers in a way to contain my anger.
To help me in this way, I try to convince myself that he confused me with someone else.
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