𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐅𝐄 | 𝗌𝗑𝖿

[02] The Spy

[10:30 AM — APARTMENT COMPLEX]

y/n stared at her television with eyes that seemed to be dead. Her actions were almost robotic as she picked up the glass of iced tea from the coaster placed on top of her coffee table. She should've been drinking coffee if she wanted to be as energized as she wanted to be, but she figured that the iced tea's caffeine would be sufficient.

The reporter on the news kept on blabbing about the latest updates on Ostania. There was nothing special on the news and all y/n could do was sip her tea as she listened.

Morning was calm thanks to that, but that was until a specific name was mentioned in the news. "Donovan Desmond…" The reporter started as the following statement was blocked out by y/n's ears which seemed to ring.

"You are not to step inside this mansion ever again. Contact with us is prohibited." Donovan stared down at his own daughter. "You call yourself a Desmond and yet you act so pathetic. You shouldn't even call yourself one anymore."

"But… all I said was I wanted to have my own cafe? How could you be so cruel to me!"

"I wasted my money on your education, made sure that you were always on top of Eden, and all you want to do is work at a cafe?" Donovan turned around, back facing y/n. "If that's what you want, you can do so but make sure that you won't ever call yourself a Desmond ever again. No Desmond shall be as pathetic as you are."

"All because I said I wanted to own a cafe?"

Donovan turned to look at y/n, but only for a split second. "You know well that isn't the only reason. You've been a bad influence to both your brothers."

y/n looked at her feet, feeling guilty though she shouldn't have. "What? I keep on saying that I did that because—"

A shatter was the only thing that broke y/n out of her trance. She looked down at her feet and there she saw how the glass she had been holding onto, slipped out of her grasp. It was all thanks to the single mention of her father's name.

How funny.

She swiped the remote control from the coffee table as she pressed down on the power button, hard. There was glass on the floor and that should be the only thing she should have her focus on.

Tiptoeing away from the shattered glass, not wanting to get wounded by a shard, she grabbed the necessary cleaning tools and once she realized that the only reason there was such an incident was because she let herself get so beaten up over hearing a single name on the television.

All she could do was purse her lips. She kneeled down on part of the floor that was clear of the broken glass as she began cleaning with the use of her mini broom and dustpan. “And if I just hadn’t overreacted, then I wouldn’t be cleaning this right now,” She muttered to herself, chuckling as she dusted the remaining small pieces of glass.