Chapter Text
You were dumb and utterly naive simple girl. This is the only explanation you can find to somehow rationalize your feelings, because if at that time you were a few years older, wiser, more experienced — you’d never fall in love with a man like him.
Ugh. Astarion.
Even the sound of his name gives you nothing but nausea.
That’s why in your head you call him that scumbug, or that piece of shit, or that fucking asshole instead. Actually, you already started repeating yourself — why not create a whole list at your leisure?
“Your tea, sir ”, you put the cup on the desk with a loud thump. The liquid almost spilled onto his hand. You wished it would spill, because it was hellishly hot, freshly boiled tea. “Please, try not to add liqueur in your drinks anymore during your work time”, you closed your eyes with the opposite of a sincere smile on your face, from which the cheeks convulsed every time you forced yourself to smile in his presence.
“But with a tiny dose of alcohol everything becomes better, dear! Even you starting to look less… dull”.
Your fake smile grew bigger, nails dug into the palms. He pushed aside a newspaper and carefully took a small sip. He licked his lips, looking at the teacup with a tiny smirk.
“Mm, what kind of tea is this?”
He asked as if there was a whole collection to choose from.
“Jasmine, my favorite”, you answered through your teeth.
His nose wrinkled.
“That explains this awful aftertaste”. He set the cup aside, returning his attention to the reading.
You felt a slight pulsation in your eye and how your eyelid twitches uncontrollably.
It was a sunny, lovely day. Birds were chirping outside the window. There was still a practiced smile on your lips. Your hand quite accidentally picked up the hellishly hot cup and slowly poured the contents over his head, on his hair, ruining his perfect hairstyle, in thin streams on his clothes.
He would exclaim stupidly ‘Oh shit it’s fucking hot!’ hilariously trying to wipe the tea off his face. Maybe it will leave permanent burns on his skin and he will never be able to look at his face in the mirror with the same full of self-satisfaction smirk.
“Anything else or are you here just to torture me with your imitation of tea?” you opened your eyes — his annoyed voice swayed you away from your little fantasy.
You repeated in your mind, silencing your dark urge :
Do. Not. Pour tea on your boss's head.
“If you're finally done commenting on my tea making skills, how about getting back to work? Sir ”.
Another thump on the desk. This time — stack of papers.
“These are all current cases you need to complete before noon”, you informed him, stepping towards the door.
“Before noon?! You are kidding me, there’s a work for a whole week—”
You didn't hear his screams, slamming the door behind you.
Ah. Finally blissful silence.
_ _
Working as Astarion's secretary is not bad at all: the office is really nice, so is the salary; you were hired by his parents to keep him in check: make sure he do his work as magistrate and attempts all aristocratic meetings in time; sometimes interesting cases happen, but mostly it’s a daily dealing with thiefs. But the only thing that can make you impulsively write a resignation letter is, actually, your boss.
“Astarion Ancunin, you are a childish brat!”
You slammed the paper in front of him.
“Aha, dear, another love letter for me?” He picked up your colorful explanation why you wish to be fired and put it in the drawer. “Another sample to our collection. Maybe one day we will see an improvement in your handwriting, you know”.
You continued to stare at him, placing hands on his desk.
“Anything else I can help you with?” he dared to smile.
“Name me one reason why I am still working with an insolent brat like you”, you spoke through your teeth.
“Because you love money, obviously”, he waved his hand dramatically and it was difficult not to agree. “And you started repeating your insults. Should I give you a dictionary for inspiration?”
So he wants to be brutally murdered.
“Please, wait a minute. I need to check how many years are given for willful bodily harm with death result”.
You stormed through the door, leaving him. At least he didn’t say “Of course it’s because you're madly in love with me and your attempts to get my attention make you look dumb” like he did the last time. Oh, you don't want to remember the last time.
But strangely enough, you didn't try to fire yourself for a whole month.
Exactly at noon all papers he needed to finish were returned to you. Astarion looked annoyed and lifeless, like a few hours of signing documents could kill him.
“See? It is not that hard if you stop procrastinating and actually start working”, you said with a smile, flipping through the pages. He frowned.
“Just check if I signed everything correctly. I will not have patience to redo it”, he crossed his arms over his chest and angrily glared at the wall, giving you only a side-glance.
“Everything is correct”, you couldn't help yourself but to add: “Good boy”.
He gasped. You could swear you saw how the corners of his lips lifted for a second.
“Don’t praise me like your dog, dear”.
“I’m pleasantly surprised you remember I have one”, you raised your eyebrows. “But you are right, sir: my dog is well-behaved”.
In your defense, he started it first. It's all his fault. No, it's not childish at all. In this room you are the only one who can be called a responsible adult anyways.
“I wonder who you bribed to keep him”, he replied, examining his fingernails.
You rolled your eyes, putting papers in folders.
“My Coco is a lap dog, and definitely smaller than a peacock. If you wish I can take him with me for your further examination”.
You knew he would react.
“Don’t even think about bringing that white hairy creature here!”
“So you also remember he’s white and hairy ”, and you knew he’d fall for your trap.
Now he was looking at you.
“You know, I would be almost proud of you, if you actually bribed someone”, he softly chuckled, but then clapped his hands, like trying to drive the thoughts away. “No more chatter at work! My lunch is waiting”.
As he stood at the exit, he turned his head in your direction.
“Don’t worry, I’ll buy something for you too, dear. Some light salad, perhaps?” he looked you over from head to toe. “At least someone in this room takes care of your figure”.
The pencil you held broke in two between your fingers. He was quick to disappear behind the door.
“I’m going to fucking kill him”.