Real Men Wear Chanel

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Author's Chapter Notes:

i'm working really hard to keep things realistic between tom and anna. their relationship is very gradual, so bear with me please. you won't be disappointed :) enjoy

It was day number three of my unbelievable, almost surreal contract negotiation with the vile man sporting inky, braided stresses and a permanent sneer. After my mistake of ignoring his phone call at the supermarket, he’d punished me when I’d arrived back with his bags of groceries by demanding that I finish up my chores in the bathroom.

“The bathroom?” I’d echoed, glancing suspiciously at the door. “What’s in the bathroom?”

He’d smiled then, cocking his head slightly. “The toilet.”

Then it had registered. I’d stumbled back, eyes wide in horror, shaking my head frantically. “No. No, no, no. I am not cleaning your toilet, Tom.”

“Well,” He’d snapped, still smiling at me. He had brought forth a long, white brush – a toilet scrubber, and practically shoved it into my hands. “You don’t have a choice.”

Then for the next five minutes or so we’d gone back and forth, me snarling at him that the only reason I’d ignored his precious phone call was because my hands were full with his grocery items. He’d retaliated with a quickness that surprised even me, saying that I should have put the bags down to answer the phone or at least called back.

In the end, he’d won. I’d found myself absolutely seething on the smooth linoleum surface of his floor, my teeth grit in pure fury as I worked that damn brush around the inside rim of the bowl, the soapy suds emitting an artificial citrus scent.

Things were becoming tense between him and I, I realized, and I didn’t hesitate to shove my way past him on my way out.

It was a new day, though. And for that I was grateful. I woke up, taking deep, therapeutic breaths and attempting to keep myself calm and focused. I treated myself to a cinnamon bagel from the bakery around the corner, and even allowed myself to get a medium-sized vanilla crème frappe – I would need the sugar and caffeine rush to aid me while I aided the satanic creature residing in luxury just blocks away.

And demonic he was.

I arrived on time, surprisingly, but what wasn’t surprising was the fact that when I stepped into his room, he was doing absolutely nothing. I sighed, rolling my eyes and dropping my book bag carelessly to the floor below. I didn’t have time for his little games – I only had two and a half hours before my environmental science lab, and I couldn’t be late for that.

“Tom?” I called out sharply, waiting impatiently for his sarcastic retort to come echoing through the large room. But alas, the silence continued to ring through my ear canal. I frowned slightly. “I’m here!”

Silence.

“The hell?” I whispered to myself, kicking my shoes off and stepping further into the apartment. Everything seemed to be in decent order, for the most part, aside from the usual slight untidiness and clutter on the counters and tables.

I craned my head, glancing towards the bathroom, expecting to see the door closed with the light escaping the bottom crack. I expected to either hear the steady stream of water from his shower or sink faucet, but the door was open and the bathroom was dark.

Where the hell was he?

I jumped slightly, then, hearing a muffled shuffling noise coming from behind his bedroom door. Turning slightly, I waited for him to appear from behind the door. After a few more shuffling noises, I heard the distinct sound of soft footsteps padding in my direction and the slight clicking noise of the door handle opening. The door opened softly, its hinges creaking with the motion, and I was ready to throw a sarcastic, snappy attack at his lazy, bum-ass.

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