➥𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

12. Little ass

" What it is by Doechii "

Suman pov:

"Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty! Ugh, oh God." My voice cracked out loud, though there was no one to hear me in the deserted stairwell. Each number felt like a knife digging into my calves. The dim light above flickered as if mocking me, and the spiraling staircase stretched endlessly downward.

Every step weighed on me like punishment. The echo of my heels against the concrete was deafening, bouncing off the walls and drowning me in my own exhaustion. My legs trembled under the burden of my body, threatening to give way. They no longer felt like mine, just heavy blocks of stone attached to a body that was done for the day.

I paused mid-step, one hand clutching the cold railing, my knuckles white. My breath escaped in shallow bursts, warm against the chill of the air. My chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm as dizziness swept over me for a fleeting second. His words replayed inside my skull like a broken record.

"No elevators. Take the stairs."

Why was I even listening? Why was I torturing myself with his childish commands when my body was begging for mercy?

I lifted my eyes to the painted number on the wall. Halfway. Just halfway. The thought nearly broke me. My gaze darted across the landing, and there it was. The elevator doors, gleaming like salvation, a shining promise of relief. They seemed to whisper,

"Come, escape."

My lips curved into a bitter smile. He didn't have to know. He couldn't possibly know. And even if he did, what then?

Dragging my aching legs, I shuffled toward the elevator. The button clicked under my finger, and within seconds the ding of arrival filled the air. The doors slid open gracefully, as if they too pitied me. A twinge of guilt flickered in my chest, but it was quickly washed away by relief.

Will he find out? Would it matter?

Panting softly, my lungs protesting after an already grueling day, I convinced myself this wasn't cowardice-it was survival. I was too tired for his games, too drained to play along.

I stepped into the elevator, leaning against the cool wall, closing my eyes for a brief moment of bliss. My thoughts betrayed me, muttering in bitterness.

That arrogant bastard. I wonder how this fucking man, with his garbage attitude, has the best position everywhere he goes. His brain must be trash, yet somehow, he's always the one in control. And worse, he occupies my thoughts far too often. Unwanted. Maddening. His presence lingered even when he wasn't around. Sometimes I wondered if he did it on purpose.