Secrets and Things (MxM)

Chapter 1 - Are offices always this spooky?

NOTE:

> Italics  =  thoughts (of current POV)

> I make a lot of authors notes throughout because I dreamt of this and I want to comment on it

Oddity (Noun): Magic or power possessed by 0.5% of the world's human population, making them rare and extremely valuable. (They work similarly to quirks in BNHA)

With that being said, enjoy !

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POV ????

As the elevator rattled up towards the 29th floor, the only thing I could inwardly think was why the fuck does this elevator rattle? It's a new building. Am I in a horror film or something?

Receiving no response to my thoughts (thank God), I continued to tap my foot in impatience and looked at my left wrist, expecting to see the time, but instead just seeing empty and fairly pale skin. With a huff, I glanced at the display screen atop the elevator door to see that I had just passed the 25th floor. Finally. Preparing myself for what was to come, I replaced my bored face with a determined one and by the time the elevator reached the 29th floor, I was ready to go all out.

With a ding, the doors silently slid open to reveal a cold and dark office floor. As I stepped out into the wide space, the heavy rainstorm that was raging outside revealed to be the only sound I could hear. The soft rain pelting the windows calmed my eyes (and ears) and would have been a serene atmosphere that I could have enjoyed on a normal day. That is, if it were any other normal day. At that time, it was just kind of eerie. Then again, on any other normal day, one would not be sneaking into a corporate building at around 10:30pm in order to achieve something. Is it 10:30pm or did I just make that up? Do they not have glow in the dark clocks around here? Glow in the dark wall clocks would be a great business idea actually. Maybe I should invest in one.

With that being said (or thought) (A/N I like to think a lot to myself like this protagonist as well), I proceeded to walk down the narrow walkway created by plain desks being lined up in an orderly fashion. The desks and accompanying chairs appeared to be of a top-of-the-range model and were clearly taken care of by their owners. The cubicles themselves were large enough to be mini, open-spaced offices.

"Seems like the company sure has a lot of money to spare if they're paying attention to details like these," I quietly muttered to myself. Most other companies I've infiltrated in the past tend to go towards the cheap side with these kinds of things. As I inwardly finished off the observation, my eye was caught by a light reflecting off the floor of the wide space. It seems the light was bouncing off the carpet of the walkway of a private office with poorly shut blinds.

"Bingo. Found you," I quietly whispered.

With a newly formed (but tiny) smirk, I advanced towards the office with the most minimal movements possible. It took about 20 steps until I was in front of the door. I could hear faint muffles through the door but couldn't see anything. Only one voice. Tch great, he's on the phone. That's kind of annoying. He can alert outsiders. Whatever, I'll deal with it once I'm in there. I prepared myself to abruptly enter the office and startle the man, the idea being to appear all cool-like and full of bravado, until a thought erupted in my head. OH YEAH. He has poorly closed blinds. 

With that in mind, I peered through the gaps between said blinds to see the middle-aged man facing towards the outer window in his leather (and very expensive) chair (A/N the window wall? It's a lot of windows making a up a wall like the ones in Suits) with the back of his body towards the door as well as his very disorganised desk. From the looks of it, he was appreciating the fog created around the city's buildings and concentrating on the rain dripping down the window. Perfecto. He just gave me unintentional permission to create the grand entrance. 

I stepped back from the window, went in front of the door once again and placed my hand on the doorknob. With a large inhale of O2 and N2 to shake off any left-over nerves (I could do this a million times and still feel mini, nervous jitters), I slowly pushed open the door.

Fuck yes, it doesn't creak and groan like a stubborn brat waking up for school. I slipped myself through the smallest gap possible from the door—eyes never moving from the target—and slowly closed it behind me. The semi-bald man hadn't noticed my new company and continued to  yammer away into the small box.

"I don't care what you have to do to get it. Just bloody do it and get it back... Yes, I know the risks, and I don't care! I'm paying you a shit ton of money but all you're giving me is a shit ton of disservice... This is why you don't trust people, honestly. Fucking backstabbers... Yes, I know I'm using you to get back my money from someone else, which means I'm trusting you to a certain extent, but shut up and don't correct me or else YOUR money will be burnt right here, right now."

With that being said, it's showtime, baby. Taking a small step further forward into the office, hands shoved into the pockets of my pitch-black trousers in order to allude confidence (A/N he's a badass ok), I said my first words since I stepped into this office, the words seeping with amusement as well as distaste.

"You know, you making that 'backstabbers' comment is quite hypocritical of you..."

The man jumped nearly a meter up the chair in surprise and turned his body as well as neck towards me so fast that I could have sworn a whiplash may have just occurred. Ouch, I hope that didn't actually cause whiplash... Wait no, that wouldn't actually be such a bad thing. He studied me with wide eyes that initially displayed shock and surprise before turning into confusion and anger. I continued to look back at him in silence with one of my eyebrows quirked up in curiosity.

This continued for quite some time until I joked, "Like what you see?" in an attempt to break the frankly awkward staring that was going on.

His eyes seemed to almost bulge out of its sockets in shock (yes, I speak, Sherlock) which quickly transformed into a glare. In an authoritative tone, he asked, "Who are you?"

"Ah, he speaks too. You done with the observing? I'm not here to be a museum exhibit, you know."

He continued to glare at me, phone still pressed on to his right ear while the other end spoke gibberish. Oh right, I needed to take care of that as well. In an instant, the said phone rested in my hands, which I then destroyed by dropping it on the floor and simply stomping on it three times.

Baldy—an unoriginal but succinct name for the man—abruptly stood up in shock and went into a defensive stance behind his desk. In one of his hands, he had brought up a gun, but not just any gun: it was an Oddity gun. Well, at least he wasn't stupid enough to not figure out that I possess an Oddity.

"Hey, hey, now, no need to be so hostile. I'm just here to talk." Well, for now anyway.

I plastered on a smirk in an attempt to give him false reassurance as well as to subtly notify him that he was in trouble and I was about to fuck him over.