Work Text:
You weren’t going to explain it for the second time around, the inconvenience in this facility aside from the sky-rocketing number of agent deaths on the log was wasting a second doing nothing.
The Manager wasn’t doing too well, and given his performance, the day’s most likely to repeat several hours from now.
Not that you mind, you were going to prepare for the following event even; until he barged into the office, rum in his hand, offering you a drink in his unfortunate state. Netzach raised the rim towards his lips, stopping mid-way as it hovered, and his arms stumbled along the way. God, he looked miserable – well, technically everything was.
“I might turn into a snake if you keep glaring at me like that.” You heard him snicker before he chugged a heavy amount of alcohol, closing his eyes to savor the bitter taste running down his tongue.
“You know you can’t work properly if you drink.”
Hearing this, he scoffed. “That doesn’t matter, it’ll always end up the same.”
A charmer, that’s for sure. You sighed – he was no help, and how could you have thought that he was going to be? For whatever reason it was, you had hit low.
You turned your chair to the tablet in front of you and began to continue your work, displeasing smell reached your nose, and a sound of soft glass hitting a surface followed after.
What a pleasant work environment.
The Manager had placed a task on your department, and it was on your end to distribute the said objective to one of the agents suitable for the work. It was going well.
“Look at you,” you heard Netzach start, “I swear you and Chesed must have an ‘Eye bag Competition’ going on.”
You squinted your eyes on the screen, intensely so that it looked like you were close to shooting lasers through it.
Tatyana is dead.
Netzach groaned at the sound of that dreaded ping, his back leaning against the office chair. And you wished you could as well, plus rip your hair off, and rip his beautiful green hair off. It looked like it thrived on alcohol in the worst possible way, similar to vines growing unattended, so freely, and without… care.
“Do you have another one?” You glanced at him, and Netzach’s small frown stretched into a knowing smirk.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Mao is dead.
“Just, give it now already!” He waved his hand lazily and stood up groggily.
“Alright, alright – Oh, erm, I forgot this was the last one. We might have to improvise.”
What does he mean by that?
You grew frustrated as each minute passed, you can’t be idle right now, and you needed to have some sort of suppression for your thoughts. You heaved on your seat without a word, if you could rush out of the room and beat up those abnormalities yourself, not to mention you would’ve also done it by hand.
He sets the bottle down on the table, and you see him walk toward you. You narrowed your eyes at him out of confusion, he was unpredictable at times, really.
Even One Sin must’ve had a hard time figuring him out.
Netzach placed his hand on the top of your leather chair and turned it so that you were facing him, fully front, and all you could see was him.
He was… so dangerously close to your face.
“What are you-“
“I heard it tastes better this way.”
What the actual hell? You weren’t enjoying this, which was a lie, your face was burning and it felt like you were drunk. His hot breath fanned your lips, and if he keeps this up you’d round up to one of the agents that just died earlier.
Daily quota reached, head to the dormitories.
One thing was for sure, you can’t feel anything other than him anymore.