Angel.

Saviour.

That was what his name should be.

He showed up at the exact moment I was rethinking my life decisions. Unlike last time, I didn't even think twice before getting into the passenger seat of his car. 

"Thank you..." I mumbled, slightly bowing my head. His cologne swept me off my feet and I breathed in the sandalwood scent. I dropped my bags and the small jewellery bag that was given to me beside my legs.

The silence in the car was deafening but I would still choose it over standing outside in the cold night weather, wearing lingerie.

"So, where are your friends?" He asked.

"Ah, they had an emergency to tend to. So I'm all alone," I replied and the deafening silence continued. Normally, I would try to make conversations in situations like this but my head was too empty and I could not think of anything to say.

"If you don't mind me asking but why didn't you change into your normal clothes, why are you still in your dance clothes?" He asked another question. I guess he didn't like the silence either?

"Oh," I rolled my eyes recalling the ruckus that went down at the club with Kiss. "Some dumb-ass jealous old-slaggie bitch thought it was a good idea to pour water on my things—I'm sorry for cussing," I explained. "Now, my normal clothes and shoes are wet, I couldn't change into them,"

"No, it's fine. I would cuss too if someone did that to me," He said. "So, what did you do to the person that poured water on your things? I hope you got back at them."

"Hell, Yes! I made an ugly line on her face with my heels and got her fired," Now that I said it out loud, it didn't sound okay. Not only did I make a potentially ugly scar on her face, I also destroyed her possibly only source of income.

Damn—

"Nice." He said.

That was shocking. I expected him to feel a little bit disgusted or say 'What I did was too much' but he instead replied with 'Nice'.

Maybe it shouldn't be so shocking after all, I mean, he DID kill some people at the club months ago. He obviously has some skeleton hidden in his closet. Very bloody one at that.

"...but be careful, pathetic people like that tend to strike back in the most lethal way because they no longer have anything to lose. That cut will make a scar. It being on the face would be the motivation to strike back," He let out, eyes focused on the almost empty road with just a few cars passing by as it was midnight.

"Then what should I do?" I asked, looking at the side of his face.

"What I would do is take care of loose ends," He glanced at me with an expression I can not quite fathom. Our eyes met for a second before he averted his gaze back to the road. "Spiteful people like that are loose ends. What you should do IS always be alert, Sleep with one eye open and always expect the unexpected because what you did to that person is life ruining and they WILL come back," He let out in one stretch.

Now, a few weeks back, if the beige man was going to the right, I would move to the left. I never thought there would be a day I would be in his car. All alone with him giving me a piece of advice. Sounded too far-fetched.

But you see, it happened. I was in his car and he was talking to me without trying to dig out my intestines with a gun so dare I say—I was feeling a little bit bold.

"How do you take care of loose ends?" I questioned. Still staring at his face, I spotted a smirk getting plastered on followed by a low chuckle. He averted his gaze from the road to me and let out the deepest breath I've ever heard.

I got chills as his eyes never left mine and the fear I wasn't feeling before suddenly washed over me. I recoiled and averted my glance to the road, not looking at him anymore.

"A very interesting way," I heard him say.

Boy—was my heart beating at the speed of light! I brought that onto myself. It was obvious how he took care of loose ends—he probably kills them—and was he staring at me like I was some kind of meat that needed to be grilled?

"Ah—lest I forget, Look at the back seat." He said. I glanced at him and he was already looking back at the road with his normal blank expression plastered on his face. I turned my head back and spotted a box sitting on the back seat.

"A box..." I trailed off.

"It's for you." He simply stated.

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. I stretched my hands back and carried the box, putting it on my lap. I started unwrapping the black ribbons on it. Fully opening the box, I found an Artémís designer bag sitting pretty in the box.

I gasped, raising my hand to cover my mouth as I averted my gaze to his face. "W-what, What is this for?" I asked, stuttering.

"It's an I'm sorry gift, and also thank you. You know—my daughter?" He let out.

Normally, I would try to return it and say 'I can't take this' BUT I couldn't even pretend I didn't want the bag. I was aware of how much it cost and he looked like someone that would tell me to put the bag back once I drop the iconic line.

Don't get me wrong, when I was given the jewellery by the man at the club, I wasn't feeling shit. I didn't feel shit and I genuinely wanted to return it but the Artémís bag? There wasn't a single ounce in me that didn't want the bag.

"Thank you so much," I said instead.

"I hope you like it, I tried to find something you might like. I wanted to buy loafers because I've seen you wearing loafers a lot but I didn't know your size and the lady at the store told me you would like a limited edition bag," He explained and my eyes almost fell out of my sockets.

"L-limited edition?" He wasn't the one stammering anymore, I WAS! My jaw fell realising I would be carrying the same bags those two left legs celebrities carry.

This was the life I wanted. The life I yearned for.

"Yes, Three pieces of it just came into the country but if you do not like it, you can tell me the size of your shoes then I'll buy loafers instead," He rambled, looking back and forth from me and the road.

My eyes grew wider as I shouted, "No, No, No. I love it!" I wasn't going to switch an Artémís bag for a loafer. The bag could buy more than twenty loafers.

—and he seemed to have misunderstood my shocked but happy expression to me not liking the bag. The bag was probably the most expensive thing I owned.

"I love it," I said in a more normal tone. "Thank you," my voice grew more quiet. The fear I was feeling was no longer there and was replaced by a warm feeling.

He glanced at me and a small smile crept on his face. I had to BLINK twice to be sure he was actually smiling at me.

Un-fucking-real!

He averted his gaze back to the road while I was still shocked. The night was a night filled with surprises and shock for me and it seemed to be never ending.

"I'm glad you liked it. If you want something like this, just tell me. I'll get them all. You ARE taking care of my daughter and making her happy anyways," He let out.

Taking care of her?

"What do you mean taking care of her? The only thing I did was hang out with her at my place for a bit. YOU are the one taking care of her," I said. Not to take all the credit, I knew I was making her happy but I wasn't the one taking care of her.

"She has never been this much happy before and it's all because of you. I'm sorry for the way our paths initially crossed and how I treated you," He apologised for the millionth time and I understood all he was doing was for his daughter.

Maybe he needed to be awarded Father of the Year.

A/N
Question, Does anyone noticed the change in my writing?