𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐘- original characters

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀, and it went along the lines of this: I will not sleep with Nathanial Clairmont. I will not talk to him, I will not so much as look at him. Since that night at the restaurant, she had started... feeling things. Things that were not good for her because she knew if she ever gave into him she would tangle herself in a web she wasn't sure she could escape. He was addictive, and once she got a taste, Margot wasn't sure she'd ever be able to give him up. He'd insisted that he'd wear her down eventually, and she was afraid that he might be right. She was at her breaking point, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold back before she simply snapped. 

With everything that's happened with Celia lately, he'd been around more often than she would prefer. But she understood. Celia Clairmont had been through a great deal these last few weeks, and after she'd found that dead girl in her apartment a few days ago, it was understandable that her cousin wanted to come and check in on her. Still, it didn't change the fact that his presence was a massive inconvenience to her. 

She thought it was going to be a Nathanial-free day until he decided to stroll into the office without a care in the world. 

He waltzed in with Celia by his side, and the second she caught his eye she groaned. She reached for the nearest pencil on her desk and pretended to repeatedly jab it into her eye socket. Here she was thinking that she could have one day without him wiggling his way into her thoughts. She couldn't escape him, and she hated him for it. 

"Isn't someone happy to see me," Nathan mused, beelining for her desk rather than following Cece into her office. Sometimes, she liked to think that showing up here and bothering her was like some kind of sick and twisted entertainment for him. She didn't give him the satisfaction of saying anything back, because she remembered her mantras. I am determined to forget that Nathanial Clairmont exists. He is no one to me. It was difficult to ignore him since he easily commanded the attention of the entire room, but she was known to have excellent self control. Although, she felt as though she were being tested every time she was in the room with him. "You know, I think I really enjoy it when you're quiet," he told her, leaning in closer and whispering quietly, "What? No sarcastic remark for me this time?"

She paused and narrowed her eyes at him, her face settling into a glare. She wasn't going to engage with him, she really wasn't planning on it, but she couldn't just sit there and not say anything. Then it would only make him think he won, and he hadn't. "Oh, like I'd give you the satisfaction, Nathanial," she snapped. His lips turned up as though he was enjoying this, like he was happy he'd finally gotten her angry enough to fight back. "If you want to keep me quiet, I'm afraid you'll have to make me," she stated smugly. She leaned forward in hopes of catching him by surprise. Two could play at that game. "But fair warning, you'll have to beg for it first."

His eyes flashed with an unfamiliar emotion, but if Margot's intuition was any good, she'd guess that he would like that. She raised an eyebrow as she waited for his response, only for him to say absolutely nothing in response. "You know, I think I like it when you're quiet," she commented with a small smirk. She enjoyed rendering him speechless. "You'd be so much prettier if you learned how to shut up," she told him in a condescending tone. Margot reached out and pinched his cheek, and she found herself feeling pleased when he blushed. 

"You think I'm pretty?" He asked, batting his eyelashes at her. Margot rolled her eyes because of course that was all he heard. Margot toyed with the collar of her blouse, needing something to do with her hands so she wouldn't strangle him... or kiss him. Both would be an incredibly bad idea, but more specifically the latter. "I think you'd look pretty with my foot up your ass," she added sweetly, registering the sound of the door indicating that Celia had grown tired of their fighting and left them to their devices.