𝐂 𝐀 𝐌 𝐁 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 | ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ [𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘰 𝘐𝘯𝘤𝘶𝘣𝘶𝘴]

𝐗𝐈

The man plopped on his velvety, red armchair as a long and deep sigh left his lips. His hand ran through his bluebottle-coloured hair, pulling the tips to alleviate the nervousness that was flowing in his veins. His patience was running out, but there was nothing that he desired more than revenge. That feeling that blistered his chest with a peal of rich and satisfying laughter that couldn't be stopped unless you ran out of breath. But even at that moment, you won't stop, because the sweet sound of revenge couldn't be stopped, not even its taste, which you could already begin to savour when you set the base for your plan.

It was a long way, however, and the man knew that from the beginning, ever since he decided to work with that woman that reminded him of his unrequited love of when he was younger. He had talked to her about his intentions, his problem, and his thoughts that kept him awake at night and she kindly offered her help in exchange for something. The man had accepted without hesitation, already putting his trust and goals in her hands.

But, that night, the man knew there was something wrong going on with her work. He could tell that by the way a wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows and her perfectly painted in red nails kept drumming on the jamb where she had her shoulder laid against.

"What's happening?"

He asked her, resting his head on the soft headrest of the armchair. The man closed his eyes, but he could still picture the left side of her upper lip twitching for the bother.

"As expected, he doesn't trust me anymore. He won't even let me go near him or his wife or daughter."

The man opened his eyes and lifted an eyebrow when he realised that the woman had stopped talking and was waiting for his reply or suggestion. He even spurred her to keep on talking, but she stayed immobile, waiting for him because she knew that he had already understood what she wanted from that conversation.

The male, however, pretended not to know what she was asking for. He loved to hear her asking and even begging him to give her what she wanted.

"Then? What do you want me to do with that?"

He asked, straightening his position on the recliner, placing both of his arms on the armrests, looking like a king on his throne. And that was how he actually felt ever since he managed to call her.

The woman smirked and lifted his shoulder from the door jamb, starting to walk towards him while swaying her hips as if she was walking on the runway. The man bit his lower lip when she approached him and straddled his thighs, her hands were on his broad shoulders. Her lips reached his mouth, where she brushed them lightly against it, without initiating a real kiss.

"Give me more power."

She whispered under her breath with her pupils fixated on his. The man smirked and he could feel his teeth slip on her lips, perceiving the warmth coming from them. A deep, macabre snicker escaped from his lips, its coldness made the woman detecting her bones getting colder, as if she was walking naked under a snowstorm.