(the rise and fall of) the boy prince of the empty moon

(the rise and fall of) the boy prince of the empty moon - part x

another bot lets belle into the glass elevator. it’s octagonal and very fast.

she walks into damian’s office  slowly, noticing he’s not even in there. dickhead. he said he’d meet her. he said no such thing. she sits on his desk, legs crossed like a lady. she waits.

“there you are,” damian says, like he’d been waiting for her. belle rolls her eyes. “there you are, my chinese princess.”

belle is used to that. “you know i’m not chinese, asshole.”

damian quirks an eyebrow. “hm? what are you, then?”

“korean,” she looks him right in the face. in the eyes. “you fuckin’ know.”

damian thinks about that. he goes to sit down at his desk before he responds. he’s facing belle’s back, and she's facing the wall. “get off my desk, sit down. we need to talk.”

belle gets up and sits a crystal clear chair facing him. “where’s giselle?” she asks. she’s kind of trying to provoke damian. he really doesn’t like to talk about giselle.

“no idea.” he says. belle frowns. defeated.

once belle is situated, damian begins. he’s planned the presentation out in his head, so carefully.

“i’ve decided that i’m growing increasingly bored-” belle cuts him off, laughing.

“di, you’re like always bored.”

he ignores it, “with ruling a population apathetic and submissive to my rule.”

belle nods.

“you know those kids in casa you were telling me about? i’ve been thinking of them often.” he begins to explain his idea.

belle’s intrigued now. he’s an incredible planner. it’s only been a day. she nods, yeah, she knows them. she remembers them. she leans her elbows on the desk. tell me more, yeah, tell me more.

“they’re probably idiots. i was thinking, maybe, we could do something with them. we could fuck with them, and then, uh, dispose of them. somehow.”

belle hmms. “very specific, boss. i love it.”

damian ignores the comment. “i’m sending you down to casa to introduce yourself. tell them you’re a vigilante or something, or a messenger between them and me. make something up about how i’m watching them or something.”

belle laughs again and leans back in the chair. she looks out the window, and it’s pale yellow outside. she looks back at him, and says “you are watching them. they know you’re watching them. they’re stupid but not, like, not that stupid.”

“i know they know. i know that. tell them anyway.”

belle nods. she makes jokes, but she knows when to be professional. it’s like, she’s not paid, but she’s not killed. that’s a plus. that’s a plus in any job. that’s a plus for a job working directly with damian. even though she kind of thinks it’s stupid, she agrees anyway. she just agrees. she thinks it’ll be fun

“you’ll report back to me weekly, like normal, but only on them. and after a few weeks, we’ll go in and kill them.” damian stands and walks to the window. he turns and looks at belle, “it’ll be the most fun we’ve had in a while.”

belle says, “speak for yourself. i have lots of fun.” her neck lolls backwards on the straight backed chair. it rests there. she looks at the ceiling. she rolls her head to the left and looks at damian. he’s looking out of the window, at the pavement and the shrubs, and she looks out the window, too.