Diamonds Dancing

Eighteen

The half-asleep landlord barely acknowledged her existence. At the most, he seized a quick snapshot of her long raven locks whipping around her cheeks as heavy footfalls crashed against the wooden flooring. When the bed dipped a significant amount, she let all of her deadweight collapse into the cloud-like mattress, sinking deeper into the dark abyss. However, she could not bring herself to relieve the growling tension, picking up one of the many decorative pillows. Finding a rhythm of fluffing, rotating, patting, she repeated the exact action over again until she was satisfied.

Marco rolled his bright blue eyes, flipping through the magazine in his hands. Not paying her any attention, he leaned back against the headboard, dismissing her altogether. Although that didn't mean he didn't fail to let out a throaty chuckle, one that sounded anything but amused.

After looking down at the cushion in contemplation, she shoved her face into the soft fabric and unleashed her irritation in a wordless cry.

"We should spend New Year's in Manhattan," she came up with the brilliant idea once she had recovered from her outburst, sounding as nonchalant about the whole suggestion as she could whilst he took notice of the apparent pang in her shaky voice. "We always bring in the New Year at our favourite greasy burger joint downtown, it's become our little tradition, and we can't suddenly break tradition."

He didn't question her random request to leave early, aware of her hidden motive from her bizarre behaviour alone.

He had known her long enough to know when she was hiding something from him.

"And how do you expect us to catch a flight home so soon?" Instead, he toyed with the thought, turning the page over to find a somewhat interesting gossip column to scan over with his eyes.

Something told him her sombre mood concerned one person in particular.

She twisted her flushed face slightly so that weary dark eyes were staring into his, smushing one of her chubby cheeks in the process. "You'd be surprised what you can do with the help of a celebrity surname, " she snorted under her breath before the fake optimism returned.

Rika's pouty lips were tinted a bright shade of pink as she exhaled a puff of air. "Oh, c'mon Marco! I found a flight to New York for tonight, we can leave after dinner."

His chest rumbled at her confession, settling the magazine down on his lap, he gave her troubled figure a once over.

"What did you do now, Sato?" He released his scepticism with a relatively straightforward question.

Or so, that is what he thought it was.

"Nothing!" She interjected defensively, quick to shut any kind of absurd assumption down.

And all he had to do was blink at her twice to listen to another expressive groan chime around the room. Encapsulating her humiliation into the depths of his lap, his vacant stare hung around before he eventually brushed his fingers into her matted hair.

"He's my boss, Marco." She sulked, muffling her words into his warmth. "I don't think it's very appropriate to be spending this much time with him."

He rose a curious brow, "Huh that's weird, I could've sworn you were strictly here for the kids and the kids only?" Mocking her previous settlement, he couldn't help but poke fun at her expense.