Fire.

Blood and burning smell.

At the age of 25, barely out of college, that's my first memory. Not a very fond one, I'm afraid. The one time smiling dude died in that. All that left in me was the shell that I am now inhabit. Sometimes I feel that maybe this shell, emotionless and absolutely heartless, should have left instead. Then atleast the last memory people would have had was the happy dude. Not the crude business personnel who is A. S. Katyal. What's the use I sometimes wonder.

Laying in the L-shaped sofa I turned my face towards the table. The liquid gold half-filled magnum bottle stood, the glass stood with an almost melted ice. I turn my body towards it, the liquid formed when the air kissed the frozen glass slipped off, the puddle of union forming at its feet. Unbeknownst to me there were papers on my abdomen, all of which slid to gravity. The calender and picture stood a little far from the bottle. My suit-vested self, the shirt worn-out from the whole days stress and tie somewhere on the table, somehow managed to get up and balance myself on the elbow, the drink in system not helping much. Yeah, I guess I fucked up tonight by drinking that much. I tried reaching for the photo frame that kept company to my calender but the papers that fell down got my attention.

The list of models for the haute couture show.
This went out of my mind. Getting little sleep does that to you.
The original designers were to choose their muse. The most sought after and wanted was Lavina Sanders and Manisha Katani.
Rightfully so. Despite their names, Manisha looks outright a rebel whereas Lavina the homey girl. They fit the concept of these designers and photographers. Working together the best outcome is the only possibility.

But Harsh Kavnya, the best designer in the whole haute couture of my company and highly sought after by every other company chose this dewy melty chocolate eyed girl. Almost everyone has vouched for her but being sought by Harsh made me check her up.

Oh...
Her.
Laadli Chibber. Guess my plans are going to be fulfilled seeing how my top designer chose the lady I had in mind for the show-stopper, I couldn't be more satisfied especially on a night where my initial thought is drowning everyone who does a mistake down, even if that includes myself. Drown not in water, but a damn inferno. But then again, am no saint so inferno it is. But seeing how Harsh has chosen her so he's the cameraman. Dude is a perfectionist to the core,it would be an absolute nightmare to him if anyone else decided to do some for his work for him and ended up making it not to his even by 0.1% then all hell breaks lose that much I know. And I love him for his dedication and work but that doesn't mean he is well accepted by his colleagues. I have been receiving anonymous complains about this absolute mad-lad but fortunately or unfortunately I'm sure he knows he's an absolute menace.During the day he had to show his portfolio to me he was asked to mention his cameraman who left no stones unturned to make his pictures look absolute ravishing, he, rightfully smug told that it's his personal work and none other than him achieved such fortunate shots. But underneath it all he was scared because his shots weren't professional unlike most of the people who tried. It was all on his face. A guy who studied under scholarship because though Kavnya family is another influential family,him being a fashion designer was scorned over. He was said to have been thrown out but his muse then was his sister, Milia Kavnya. Against families wishes she helped him and eventually helped him achieve his scholarship and then there he was,admitted to the most prestigious and secretive arts and fashion school that made numbers of writers,poet,designer,models and innumerable actors. Sister college to Mussoorie Fashion Icon College, Flowing Destiny has been the career oriented course opposite,with a high delight on passion. Honestly this secret college is under MFI so no one bothered finding it's name out. Something that my 20 years old self found unreasonable is now highly understandable. An education instituition under it's own jurisdiction and not highly autonomous but definitely without politics is hardly found. Surprisingly this college gave very few the oppurtunity to study under them.Harsh studied there, and unsurpringly so he has been one of the top students.Perfectionist was the remark on his result. And it's rare that anyone under MFI got the sing worded remark, that's how speechless his craft left the Institute.

I shifted through the pages, getting details on all. I looked up the Instagram and found their portfolios amazing. My fingers once again turned to Laadli Chibber's profile, her natural aura pulling me in. Imagining her bringing Harsh's ideas to life would be a never seen before miracle, for she was the best in MFI main campus. But somehow there's a six months backlog in her academic life, met with accident is the only information highlighted. Accident? I wonder what happened so bad that she had to take six months of backlog,for if anything she is a promising woman with the abilities of making head-turns without having to try for it much. She has a comment section with her followers screaming about how pretty and amazing she is online and how whoever she met fell for her. Not just the face,she is said to be kinder than she looks. I scroll through her pictures,finding one with two guys, one among them really a known face. Sikhar Randhawan. He is one of the rising stars of the bike racing, the top one in his age group without a doubt. His generation of bikers are called my generations greatest competitors and soon the upcoming golden generation and rightfully so. I had the fortune of meeting them,him especially,while a first seat to his gameplay. One of the best bikers eyes closed , co-ordination beyond belief,control that of the level of a chess-player. His eyes are the most alert,to the point even I agree he is better than me.

Maybe,just maybe instead of me it was him that night then she might be alive...

Damn it,there I go again with my thinking.

Guess drinking at this hour does wonders to the brain. Wonders I,Abhay Singh Katyal don't need.But one thought hit me,the reason of why a biker is with a model like her and who is even the other guy? She seemed close to them,closer than most girls' are with guys. I went to her captions, somehow my eyes didn't like the view of what was written.

Loving you forever.

It could be a very platonic proposal but something about it doesn't sit right with me. Who is Sikhar for all I knew that he had another girl for his girlfriend. I run my palm down my face, dumb obsession over someone who might as well be a bride to some- damn it,it annoys me even more . Lack of a personal life is at last hitting up with me, dumb thoughts holding up worse than I would love to accept. I mindlessly scroll through her instagram page for a couple minutes more before closing it,the last picture being visible in my mind is a book in her hand and a couple more infront of her, titles suggesting it's a series and her smile through the monochromatic love shot suggesting how she is enjoying it .

Screwing the dumb bottle of my beloved golden liquid off,I stack it a bit higher than it's usual place. Owing to my haggard self with the smell of liquor overpowering my cologne big time, I step into the bathroom. Discarding my white shirt on the floor ,I jumped into the shower as the rest of my clothes joined the floor under shirt's leadership. The water cascade down my body,cold and soothing being a dangerous choice of relaxation,my eyes close at the sensation. Feeling the water for a couple minutes I open my eyes and wash my loofah. And at this point I care more about my personal hygiene than being the "sigma" male. Personal hygiene over anything else,especially dumb trends of the zero brain society,I scrub my body with the body wash,trying to get the dirty smell of sweat ,liquor and dirt. If this doesn't make me fall asleep I''m going to review the rest of the models,check their portfolio and instagram if any,public works,maybe everything else to the point whoever chose them as a muse. An uninvited guest visited me as soon as my mind went to that one picture of Laadli Chibber,the one that had here in a bridal shoot, being shot from above,the scarf being on the ground and her blouse a slight deeper cut than I feel necessary. I stroke myself because Hell knows I can never sleep with it, this being embarrassing as if I was a teenager and she my crush.

Neither is true.

I shook this feeling off for keeping it seems ungentlemanly and if I can't handle a picture like that without feeling needy then I shouldn't even the owner of a haute couture company where most people are bound to be women. Shameful, Abhay Singh Katyal. Very very shameful. I soak myself in the cascading water till it starts hurting less and get out one it is no longer leaving it's shape on the towel I wrapped around my waist. I walk to my sink,drying my hair off and putting on the mosterizer and body spray,before wearing my boxers,followed by my sweats and I don't bother with a top clothing for i wore a lot for someone who lives alone. Definitely not encouraging to embrace nudity with windows open,the deep jungles is perfect for such primitive thoughts.Highly recommended if interested.Just don't do these in cities,for you may definitely not care but getting traumatized by people naked isn't a fan-favourite. Honestly,there are porn hubs and every type of trauma in between,and human anatomy out in isn't my dream trauma.

I hang the towel to dry and turn the lights off,laying down in the neatly made bed. Tomorrow is definitely a tiring day for there's meeting with all these models for my first ever personal runway, meetings with all the designers and choosing the showstopper design, might end up with Harsh but who am I to judge without seeing everyone's designs? Asking for a couple of pictures from the models,deciding who to sponsor for life,writing up contracts,deciding their payments and keeping /harsh from getting killed in the meeting. Yes,dude's at the risk of being killed by people for his rightfully so attitude.Other designers to be precise,so my work keeps increasing daily trying to keep him shut and alive and away from stepping on their tails. Sometimes I feel like his trainer to him a dog,seeing how I handle his nonsense. But somehow I feel tomorrow's biggest dibs will be called when Laadli Chibber choses him and somehow,thought that piece not so pleased at the though,has an inkling that she will be choosing him. As long as this project is a hit, I can hire them into the agency.

While thinking of how to set up, and when it needs to be done, the alcohol in my system affects my cells and my eyes felt heavier. And maybe for the first time ever I slept.

Scratch that.

I overslept.

And I, Abhay Singh Katyal, was late. Late to the meeting I called for. By an hour. This thought was enough to send me in a frenzy as soon as I woke up. Never have I been this late, not since I joined the company at least. I doubt I have the time for a breakfast either, so coffee will have to do. Freshing up for the day, I find my ear catching sound of the doorbell. I ran there frantically to see my driver. "Mohan-ji", I breathed out. He himself looked out of breath, as his eyes scanned all over me.

" You're fine... You didn't call and I was waiting for you to come but you didn't. Is everything ok? ", the poor man breathed out worried. " Yea everything is fine. Don't worry. Come inside and sit, have some coffee. We will be a little more late."
He breathed out a peaceful sigh. He nodded and almost contemplated coming in, but I wasn't going to take no for an answer when I'm the one that's late. I left the door open for him. "Come in and lock the door on your way in. "
I went back and brushed my teeth while looking at the clothes to wear for the day. When I hear the door close I strut myself to the kitchen and pour coffee in two cups.
"Do you want sugar and creamer? And not necessary is not an answer." "Um.. Yes sure." I pour a decent amount of both and hand him the cup as I grab mine and go get ready for the day. I decked myself in my charcoal suit with the matching vest and white shirt to complement it all. I wash both our coffee cups despite his rejections and wanting to do it. In a fraction of ten minutes we are out and about on the road.

I check my cellphone, a couple missed calls and tornado of email pouring in. It's a mess, my routine and the day.
No. More. Late. Night. Drinking. When. There's. Something. Important . The. Next. Morning.
I call up the latest missed call, Ameli.
"Good morning boss? Is something the matter? Do we need to cancel it-"
"Calm down Ameli, we don't need to cancel anything. I'm just a little behind the schedule. Just make sure the models talk among each other and with their preferred designs and designer. Onward with the plan, we can't waste their time because I'm late. I'll be in time for the mock runway."
"Yes sir. Anything else?", her voice impeccably professional instead of the gently-panic'd one when she received my call. I think for a minute before actually going on with the thought. " Prepare a light breakfast, preferably sandwiches. Try avoiding it being loaded overly dressed salad". After a pause her voice flows in, a gentle laugh in the background. A few murmuring later, Ameli's voice sounded again through the earpiece. "About that, there a couple bagle sandwiches of ceasar chicken salad, minimum dressing. Should I keep a couple of them?" Surprise flowed through my body. That's a tasty combo for someone as hungry as me right now, and even gentle enough after last night's rendezvous with the golden liquid. "Yeah sure. That's enough. Heat it up after five minutes." "Yes sir" I hang up and thank Ameli on her considerate choice of food.

Leaning against the head rest I let my view travel that of the road, fairly empty with the necessary traffic of the lights changing. Considerably good for a busy time of the day. I notice as the road with it's designated trees at irregular intervals, crossroads and people are being left behind, otherwise crossing me, leaving me behind. The sky looks unnecessarily bright, the light pricking my eyes, the blue hues of sky proving unbearable. Looking at the condition of the road my twenty minutes is undoubtedly going to take twice itself if not less. The warmth got hit with a generous amount of coolness, a breeze hitting my face. I looked at front, the car AC turned on and a genuine hidden smile on the driver's face. I murmur a thanks before staring into the void, slowly drifting into the genre darkness. My eyes closed, minimum sound emerging from the surrounding. A certain peace drowned me when I was suddenly drifting towards a very known roar. I open my eyes to the cafe racer, Royal Enfield Continental Gt 650 in its galore of Apex Grey. The helmet with a graffiti silver fire motif as the rider's protector made it look as if nothing could better exist. Padded jacket and knee-pads covering them, protection on point, style giving itself away on this absolute beast. Roaring in the streets, leading to everyone looking back at them, the bike zoomed past, maintaining the speed limit and people's safety. Ah, the beauty of biking and how I wish I could fee-
Stop. That's enough. I turn my head the other side, eyes closed while the memories poured themselves into the black screen of my eyes. I should forget about it. It's the end for me with biking. I should stop thinking about it even, the blood with its metal state and fire in it's hunger made me their witness once. And that's enough for this lifetime, no more. The scene flooded, replaying itself like a broken record of it, me the sole viewer of it, in the abandoned theatre of my mind. I feel the car come to a halt, my sweat breaking in the air-con. I thank him for dropping me and hurried myself inside. I give Ameli another call, her receiving it on the third ring.
"What's the situation?" "Well.." A certain rate of uncertainty was in her voice, before she continued. We know it as her observation skills. "The models already got a design from the designer they felt most compatible with and are getting ready, the first among them is getting ready for their runway. How long should I ask them to wait?"" Two minutes. That's it. I'm downstairs, I'll be there soon." Rejecting it I get into the elevator, pressing the button for studio, the one after the 22nd floor. For it was midday, almost 11:27 in the morning, the elevator barely stopped except a couple of floors in between. I came to the floor, it dinged it's jingle and the door opened. I saw Ameli standing there, her office-wear pressed perfectly. Being a bengali-christian, she has perfectly learned to be neat. Her mother scares me even though it's Ameli receiving the call. Unbothered lady smacked her one time for staining her shirt with one single drop of ink, unnoticeable even. I guess it comes from her mother's spending her years as a school teacher.
"What's the status?", I spoke way beyong pleasantries. " They are mostly ready for the runway. Except for Harsh Kavnya everyone gave the thumbs up for it. He's looking after the decking himself after a slight predicament." Her voice ever mostly calm, was interrupted by my own. "What predicament?" "Someone commented on the models figure and foo-" "And mind telling me who is this someone? " "It's best if I tell you after the runway." I understood her reasoning and making the models scared of me wasn't something I want. They will be our face, they need to be and should be mentally prepared, not interrupted by nonsense of people who doesn't understand the basic human body and it's features. I nod at her, taking the list of models and the designers they were wearing.
Manisha katani- Kairav Avasthi
Divya Minis- Kalmia Aya
Lavina Sanders- Zira Ikat
Bubbly Sharma- Himani Wasta
Lana Menka- Zayan Milke
Beautie Kumari- Rinsha Venya
Laadli Chibber- Harsh Kavnya

The list undoubtedly looked good, the only worrying left me that three of the designers were left. I turned to the room that's to host the runway, wondering if I should deal with the designers in private or in front of all. I'm looking at the list, because without a doubt it might just be the best line-up of designers and models out there. I walk towards the room, mind cluttered with the list and the ones not on it. I stand at the back, Ameli nodding for it to start as soon as she gets a heads up from Harsh's assistant designer. Kairav Avasthi, a dude in his 32 has the biggest eye for darker skinned women and styled Manisha in his most favorite iconic muse design, the one for which he was chosen in the company in the first place, the goldern sunrise, the name of his design. It's a golden-orangish hue of mermaid dress, promptly bringing out the hue of one's skin, sewn to fit Manisha. He designed it over her, fitted it and such creases with minor precision shows his devotion to art and the love in his piece, for anyone who knows him, he's obsessed with it. Following him came out soul-twins - Kalmia Aya and Zira Ikat. They have been famous for their complementary coding of attires, this one being one of their favorite inspo ever, tomboy in love. But somehow, unlike tv-shows it's not them being in dresses, but in attires complimented by boot-heels. An attire of wide legged pant with white shirt tucked in and a tote, both of the models Divya and Lavina serving with notes of café on them, cup in hand and all. They show the best poses for they knew it's a portfolio for the company, so it's as they are comfortable with, nothing mandatory of the stoic faces that will be needed later from them on an actual runway. Himani Wasta and Zayan Milke is famous for their rivalry, but their similarities too. Zayan is highly devoted to his muses, way beyond you might know. He creates pieces that are highly exclusive and born from his devotion towards women in general but Himani rivals that. Their devotion and seduction of women, brings out the innocently tainting sides of each women- intoxicating and serene. If Zayan has his women serene yet alluring, Himani loves their women intoxicating yet calming. Zayan's style of moonlight complimented Lana on her shy self while Himani's Ecstasy has brought out the goddess of mortal pleasure on earth out of Bubbly. Rinsha Venya, has her style of falling for the darker side of nature-the storm, the rain and the winter, everything desolate and to compliment her style Beautie's all-out bold attitude is like a fire in between a white spread of snow, she wore Rinsha's personal favorite style Varsha like second skin. The darkness of the dress, with its white illusory designs of rain and Beautie's personality burning through it all, was an welcome. As I moved my sight to the side, I see the cameraman looking at the pictures. I walk towards him, calling the assistant closer. They approached, giving me the overview on the laptop. And one picture popped up as soon as it got clicked. Devotion by Harsh. I looked up to the lady of the picture herself, founding myself drowning in a alluring presence rivaling all. The colour navy blue never looked this bewitching, the dress fit on Laadli. The flow of the skirt expanding from her belly pudge, I unconsciously tripped. Looking back I see I misstepped into props and hanger racks.

I had everyone run to me more or less, I jump up getting hit by a light-headedness. I frown bad, this might be the worst way to be in front of your new team. "" Are you ok? " "Yea I am-" I look up seeing Laadli standing in front of me, her face having worry of all around us. "Yea, I'm alright. Don't worry. "

I look at her, smiling hearing that. They step a few steps away. I breathe in as Ameli introduced me to them, I look around and take in the pieces made by my designers and the models themselves, before it locks on Laadli in her Devotion. Looking at her I forget my emerging embarrasment, something stirring in me to bow to her. I snap out of it, suppressing last night's devil. It's disrespectful and not worth my dignity and definitely not her. I see Ameli look in my direction to let me know how she's done introducing most stuff and I'm to take it from here. I clear my throat, and looked at each and individual artists there is.
"So, designers, how is it? Is this list final?" "I don't mind", Kalmia spoke, Zira nodding to it. " I prefer my model, she amazing to work with", a bright voice from Himani made me assured. Rinsha sighed, almost sounding tired of this many people, " I like my model" And yet that's the most and best she ever said. If it's Rinsha liking someone, then it means she will give her best ever from her own. Zayan and Kairav looked at me, almost uncomfortable to answer but giving me their finger up as a sign that they like it. After it all I turned to Harsh, awaiting his words. "And you? " "There's no one else I would design for if it's her.", his professional demeanor with a hint of respect voiced for how he liked it. His words made me nod, acknowledging all their words and I looked back at our models. Faces bright with emotions, highlighted by makeups, and bold eyes. I take a breath in, "and I hope all our models are ok with them? I wouldn't want anything forced on because I sure do want you all to be here for long and as our brand faces." I look around, their glow basking in the surrounding and taking in the highs and lows, which I let them. If this place is something they will be spending a part of their career with then they deserve to check it out- safety and comfort included in this toxic industry.

"I love it here and the freedom we got over choosing the styles we wanted is something great", Beautie's voice boomed as Lana and Lavina agreed to it. I let them talk among themselves, sorting it all out, and giving me a head-start. I turn to Ameli nodding her to get closer. "Send them in a pair and send Ms. Chibber at last ok? I'll talk it out and come in the room, I need help with the contracts." My words trailed off as I walked to my room and breathe out. Oh god, even saying that took guts but it was a procedure anyway. If she is to be Harsh's model, then I might need to talk to her alone because Harsh is particular about everything and need to fix her contract the same. Otherwise I'm sure there will be problems in the future unless I get it done meticulously and definitely personally. I sat down and started looking at individual contracts, arranged the same as the runway list, making things easier for my living and breathing. Soon they came, and very vocal about what they wanted. And that was really admirable. Fabrics, allergies and their payment needs along with most facilities was re-checked by them and signed and more of a stream flowing through little pebbles and obstacles, we were through the signing of the contract with in a span of two hours, Lavina voiced her concern for a good and no camera room, Beautie for a female companion if there's a male dressing them up- showing how untrustworthy humanity has slowly evolved to and somehow they think it's cool and manly to joke about such things. Male not protecting women and calling themselves 'men' might be the reason that these ladies here are asking about their biggest concerns which should be a basic need to all of humanity - every gender included. I looked at the watch, almost one in the after and in all this I ate both the bagle sandwiches while talking and for a reason I doubt I care what I looked like in front of them. But somehow I need more food to fill myself so I was searching for Ameli but she comes in with Laadli instead, who was in jeans and a simple shirt and a paper bag making me look doubting at it. It might be the first someone came in with a brown paper bag instead of their clutch or purse. Laadli seemed to fumble a bit as she revealed there's another bag, Ameli looked at me begging to be relieved for she's hungry. "Yea, you can leave for food." And she went zoom out of the office, Laadli stood there lips pursed into a straight line and mumbling something incoherent, her face lined with gentle sweat which made me a bit skeptical.
"Does your changing room not have an ac? Or is it not working?", " Oh no I have one and it's working fine. It's just, well, I went out to umm, buy food if you don't mind? " I looked at her wide-eyed, realizing she might have been hungry and waiting for it to be done with before going on for lunch. Dumb me, I should have prepared some light food for them all and though I didn't, I should have told them to get anything from the canteen. Foolish work for Abhay Singh Katiyal out of everyone. "Did you have lunch? ", her words pull me out of my self-scolding and lock eyes with her. " No", came out the answer, bringing out a smile from her. She walked closer and bent placing the bag in front of me, on the table as my eyes moved from the bag to her hand, traveling from her fingertips to her wrist and shoulder and shamelessly wandering on the cleavage, following the negative trail to her neck where few open tendrils and baby hair hangs to her lips bearing bitten marks and from the tip of her nose to her eyes - her features being etched into vision. I see her pull back and keep standing, as if waiting for something. I nod to myself and open the paper bag, finding a bagel sandwich and a box in it, alongside some fork and spoon of good grade quality. I look back at her and about to ask the question when I find her wide eyed, almost scolding herself it seems. "You are not vegan or allergic to something in there are you? I'm so sorry if you are", her words making me smile as I give her a shrug. " Not vegan or allergic. What's in here? " "My favorite bagle sandwich and chicken tossed in veggies and gravy. Weird is it?" That's a healthy and tasty combo for someone who's in her profession. "What's in your? You'll eat it now right?", she nods and I gesture towards the couch. She walks and sits in the single seater, placing the bag on the centre table. " Well, let's eat together and if you want something more, you can place order. I'll pay. " At her stuttering self I open the food delivery app and hand it to her. " But I don't think I should, I already bought food for both of us." "La- hah... Miss Chibber-" "Calling me Laadli is enough" "Ok, Laadli. You hand your food packet to me and you buy anything. Even if it's the same thing. I'll eat both paper bags. Go on, order it all if you want. " She seemed skeptical, worried too. "Laadli, buy it." I see her take the phone after a couple pauses, her goosebumps noticeable on her forearm, and she swiped up before tapping into a cheap restaurant that's for fast food. "Not this. Something better" I take the phone and give it to her, letting her choose, from the expensive restaurant list, all of which really are healthier and appetizing enough."I can't, it's all expensive." "Laadli", my voice slightly raised, " I have enough money that even if you eat from these restaurants daily for three time a day, I would still have 90℅ more than what you'll spend by the time I die. So choose" That shut her up but I don't know if that's a good or bad thing, as my eyes ran to the clock. Almost one thirty in the afternoon, the employees are walking for their lunch. She hands me after choosing what she wanted but my eyebrow raise as I don't find a dessert on the order. "No dessert? " "I don't prefer dessert from this shop, tastes bad." A slight pout visible as I put the order and pre-pay it before looking back at her. ETA for the order thirty-five minutes, I hand her one half of the sandwich. She took the contract as she ate mindlessly, reading it while consuming the contents on paper in her brain, nourishment going through her body. We talk about it, her needs and allergies, room and payment, demands and how much she can provide to our company. She agreed to the demands, this being a three-year contract. She searched for a pen to sign, my feet went towards my table for the pen. I hand her my Pierre Cardin jewel exclusive in black and gold, in her nail paint chipped hand. She ate her remaining sandwich, looking through it again, crumbs falling on the contract, covering a bit of where she's supposed to sign. I lean forward, hand on the armrest of this couch, face near her right ear, her tendrils swaying gently in my breath. "Don't dirty the contract Miss Chibber. I don't want to re-make it", my words come out in whispers as I run away the crumbs. A few of those fall on her jeans, a little bit on my couch. A gentle chuckle escape my mouth, the tendril of hair flying for a second in it. "Dust your jeans", her hand followed the command and rested back on her thighs, as her perfume of this gentle vanilla kissed flora hit my olfactory nerves. I take a breath in, a generous amount, " Sign", my finger pointing the empty space where she should sign, her body stiff yet leaning into the backrest. My fingers turn the page to her another destination, pointing another blank space. My eyes notice her finger facilitating the movement of the pen rather smooth over the paper surface etching her signature over it, tying her to my company for three years at best. The strokes of her handwriting in black ink, tainting the paper with its purest form, claiming it her own with every movement of the nib on the paper. I look back at her, "good girl", my face near hers and lips dangerously hovering near her ears and cheek, before I could speak a knock sounds. I whisper to her, " Your order is here", and move away. I grab the food and pay the guy a tip, before closing the door back and placing the big parcel in front of her. She to my surprise became happy and red out of happiness for food. I ate the things she bought for us, she ate what I bought for her. Her smile and happiness at every bite glowing the room up from its steaming favour to a homey feel. When she's done and leaves, I feel a bit guilty and decide to atleast fess up to my actions.
"Sorry if me being that close made you uncomfortable. Ask me to move away if I ever do it again" She turned back and gave me a smile, "honestly, it was shocking but don't worry. Next time, I'll be grateful if you ask. Will give me the time to think it over. Ok?" I smile to her and nod. "I'll ask you for permission next time. Until then. " "Yes. Have a good day".

Her footwear clacked away. I sigh and look at the centre-table that bore the empty containers plastic on it. Ameli came in, 'the designers' followed her as I feel my eyes turning into heartless one. Ameli locked the door and put on the soundproof  blinds down.

"So, which of you decided to make a ruckus today? "
And as Ameli's words flow in the next couple minutes, I saw blood.