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azrael.
"Im not even that drunk."
I guide her stumbling steps through the hotel lobby, the scent of alcohol clinging to her like a heavy perfume. I couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration mixed with pity. She was my fiancée, she was meant to make me look good in public and then leave me alone, yet here I was, tasked with the responsibility of looking after her.
"I know, just a few more steps," I murmur, my tone strained with effort of trying to keep my patience in tact.
She giggles, swaying against me, her words slurring together. "I'm fine. Let go of me."
I tighten my grip on her arm, not willing to take any chances. "Sure you are. Just keep moving."
As we reach the elevator, she suddenly stops, her eyes squinting up at me. "You know, you're really handsome."
I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her unexpected comment. "Flattery won't change this situation, Milayah. Keep walking."
Ignoring my remark, she continues, her words tumbling out in a drunken haze. "But seriously, you have nice eyes. And a nice smile. You should do it more."
Just as I was about to thank her, she opens her mouth again. "Too bad you ruin it all with your personality."
I roll my eyes.
Finally, we made it to the bedroom, and once inside I guide her to the bed, gently easing her down onto the plush mattress.
"Thank you," She yawns, nuzzling her head into the pillow and transferring her make-up onto it.
I sigh, walking to the bathroom and grabbing her make up wipes. I return and sit her up, gently wiping her face with the wipes. "Not like I had much of a choice."
She frowns, her expression clouding over. "I don't either, you know. Being forced into a marriage I don't want, with someone I barely know, let alone like..."
I couldn't argue with her there. Our situation was far from ideal for her, a result of my scheming and manipulation which all tumbled down onto her.
"I understand," I say softly, surprising even myself with the sincerity in my tone. "But for now, you need to rest. We can deal with everything tomorrow." I finish wiping her face and she lays back down.
She nods, her eyelids drooping with exhaustion. "I just want to go home, to my mom, she always knows what to do."
I hum, moving to get to the kitchen to get a glass of water. But when I get back, she's already fast asleep.
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milayah.
When I wake up, Azrael is already gone.
I don't let the pounding of my head or the dryness of my throat stop me from getting up and quickly getting ready.
In the broad daylight, I pace the length of the penthouse, my steps soundless on the play carpet, my mind an tornado of plans and fears.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I checked to see if he had really gone, checked for any cameras and bodyguards around.
None.
But now, here I was, standing at the elevator, frantically pressing the button, willing the door to open faster. I glance back at the door to the penthouse, feeling a sickening emotion pooling in my stomach. Finally, the doors slid open, revealing its sleek interior.
As I step inside, a surge of adrenaline runs through my veins. The lift descends smoothly, each floor bringing me closer to liberation.
Where to first? The bus stop? Airport? Train stantion?
But just as the doors open onto the ground floor, a firm figure looms over me, blocking my way out of the lift. Startled, I stumble backwards, my eyes widening in fear as I came face to face with one of Azrael's guards.
"Where are you going, Miss Milayah?" His voice was low, tinged with a warning that sent shivers down my spine.
My words died in my throat as I try to push them out, my mind racing for an excuse, but I fail.
Defeated, I sigh. "Clearly, nowhere now."
His expression remains firm. With a swift motion, he glides into the elevator and clicks the button for the penthouse.
"You know the rules, Miss Milayah." He says, his tone calm.
Desperation claws at my chest as the lift ascends once more, carrying me back to the penthouse I so badly wanted to leave behind.
As the doors slid open, I was greeted by the cold gaze of Azrael's butler, his disapproving stare boring into my sides.
"Suck a dick, Marco." I spit at him, more upset over the ridiculous suit he was wearing than the situation.
Without a word, the guard thrusts me into the penthouse, the force sending me stumbling forward in the luxurious confines, then leaves along with Marco, disabling the use of the elevator from the penthouse.
Alone, once again, I sit on the floor, dreading the fact that for now, I'd have to accept that I was trapped, a distant world where liberty was merely a fantasy.
Ting.
Lift doors opening, shoes clacking against tiles, and a strong cologne coulding all around me.
I slowly turn around, sandwich in hand, my heart half sinking. Azrael stands there, his tall frame outlined by the doorways light. He looks at me, his eyes filled with weariness. For a moment, neither of us spoke, then to my surprise, he shakes his head while loosening his tie, a bitter smile playing at his lips.
"Try harder next time." he says, quietly. His voice lacked the sharp edge I had grown used to, replaced by a low, hollow tone. He walks past me, his movements slow and deliberate.
My mind raced, confusion mingling with the left over panic of my failed escape. I follow him hesitantly, the free elevator forgotten.
When we reach the door, just as I'm about to speak he pauses and turns to face me. "Leave me alone, Milayah," he starts, his voice sounding like his patience was running thin. "I don't have enough energy for you."
I mentally roll my eyes. "What did I do to you?" I ask, stepping closer despite his plea. I then noticed the redness around his eyes and the heavy scent of alcohol lingering on his suit.
He takes a deep breath in. "Nothing. Leave if you want to, the door's wide open."
The words hung in the air.
He opened the door to the room and walked in, leaving me stood outside.
I turn on my heel, and leave.
**
i accidentally deleted the whole chapter i had written and couldn't get it back, so here's a filler xx
