Day Three -
She enters as usual, silent as ever.
"Back again?" I drawl, lounging on the couch this time, a half empty bottle of whiskey in my lap. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you enjoy our little chats."
Grafiya's expression remains chilly. "You overestimate your importance."
I lift the whiskey bottle, and casually tilt it, pouring the liquid on the floor. "You gonna clean that up, maid?" I ask her, taking a swig of the bottle, downing the last gulp.
Her expression is completely locked down, which is how I know she's truly angry this time.
"You will clean that up." She finally says, so quietly only my enhanced hearing as a High-Class devil allows me to catch it.
I cock my head, "Alright, do you have a rag or something?" I say, shocking her, as she freezes absolutely still, I think she even stopped breathing.
I'm not entirely an asshole. Just an insane - die die die die die, everything should die - man with no real fucks to give while awaiting death or freedom. And besides, this fucks with her head more then picking a fight would.
"I will send someone for the necessary cleaning tools." She said after a long pause.
I look at her quizzically, "Isn't a rag to wipe it up enough? Honest question. I'm not that kind of servant, my maid fetish runs the other way."
The look of sheer disgust she sends me is far above anything she's done before, "You will clean it properly." She stresses, looking at me like I am absolute filth.
Man, this is what we all got maids for, woman, I think, clicking my tongue with annoyance.
"Yeah? What if I clean it however I want to?" I say flippantly, "You can always do it if you have a problem with my methods." I lean forward, lowering my voice conspiratorially. "Wait - is that going to cause you issues? Is Sirzechs going to rampage if his favorite maid isn't the one on her hands and knees?"
Her eyes flash dangerously. "You tread a fine line. Do not speak with such familiarity about your Lord."
"Oh, sweetheart, I live on the line." I wink, self assuredly, even if most of it is completely put upon to keep myself from going spare, "And he's not my lord…" I say with a sneer, that is not faked at all.
She exhales slowly, clearly reigning herself in. "It is almost admirable," She admits, "How recklessly you speak when you are in no position to do so."
I laugh, genuinely amused. "Almostadmirable? Grafiya Lucifuge, was that almost a compliment?"
She glares. "Hardly."
I wink, blowing her an exaggerated kiss. "I'll take it anyway."
I'd prefer to fight her, but annoying the shit out of her has its own perks.
"Perhaps your own Lord should get visitation rights, would that fix your runaway mouth?" She muses out loud, a cruel twist to her lips.
My heart sinks into the soles of my feet immediately, cold sweat appearing on my brow, "You wouldn't - Sirzechs wou-"
She interrupts me, taking a heavy step forward, almost looming now, as my vision narrows. Kill her, cut her, drown her in your blood, a distant voice, as if underwater gargles, as panic starts gripping my heart. "He needs your memories, your mind. Your body being intact is optional if you continue to be… uncooperative."
I grit my teeth in seething anger at the small pleased smile she gives me before walking out.
I'm well aware she won that exchange handedly.
That's the difference between being willing to engage in irritating banter for the win, as opposed to excessive cruelty.
She knows, or suspects what I've gone through, and being irritating is apparently enough of a threshold to step across to deserve that. Lord Shax, who by now knows of my desertion, being allowed to visit?
Message received, Grafiya, I will be a nice pliant slave. I think bitterly, fists clenched.
And here I had almost enjoyed our banter. More fool me for relaxing too much.
Lest I forget, even the 'good guys' in this world are absolutely cruel to the core.
I won't forget again. I promise, glaring at the door.
Extra 2 chapters on patreon
patreon.com/VictoryTaker
Also give me stones!!!