Pure Inheritance ~ Ominis Gaunt

Angus Greengrass

She didn't miss him. She was utterly sure that she didn't miss him.

Of course, it would be nice to see him, and she even expected to feel a thrill if he ever decided to show up..., but she didn't miss him! She didn't miss his voice. She didn't miss his eyes. She damn sure didn't miss his smell!

The witch slammed the quill on her desk with such force that it rattled all the gadgets or decorations she had on top of it.

It had been three days since she had last seen Ominis in front of her apartment complex, and it was driving her mad. Not a single owl, a random visit, or a stupid report on the journals that could help relieve her anxiety. She was having symptoms of longing, which was why she didn't want to acknowledge that she wanted to see him.

Because that was all it was.

A desire. No more than a capricious wish to see him, and touch him..., maybe kiss him...

MC contained a moan from escaping her throat by biting down her knuckles and taking a deep breath to force herself to focus on the inventory she had in front of her, listing the potions used on the field and the ones still available in storage. There were a few discrepancies that someone had tried to conceal by making up numbers, but she was having a hard time finding the source of the problem.

The numbers mixed in front of her, causing her to make too many mistakes. Unwittingly, the witch massaged her temple to focus back on her work and ended up smearing ink all over her face. The liquid had a strong and sticky consistency that made it really hard to remove and once again, she smashed the quill back on the table.

"Damn it".

She looked inside one of the drawers for a piece of cloth and started to rub her face furiously.

It was another stupid mistake, but it gave her some time to think about the state of her mind, so she closed her eyes and repeated: "It's just desire". Because if she said she missed him or that she needed him, then it would mean she no longer had control over her emotions. And that would just increase the pain and the burning desire to go out and find him.

Her hand did another swipe over her face and was happy to find the ink was gone. A look at the mirror facing her desk showed that she had removed the stain, but now had a furious red streak over her forehead from rubbing the cloth on her skin.

Not that anyone would come inside her office and see it.

Not only did they keep the details of Mr. Diels' murder from her, but they also avoided her like a plague and kept her fenced in her office. Seemingly forgotten, but she knew they were acutely aware of her presence. Otherwise, there would be no reason for all conversations to come to a halt as soon as she left her office.

For any human being, that sort of treatment would feel like abuse, but MC knew that it was not personal. Or at least she sheltered her heart by saying that to herself. She looked down at the parchment and could not find it in her to care about reports that had no consequence. She felt more useless by the second, receiving a salary for just showing up and nodding obediently.

Feeling claustrophobic, she thought it would be good to make the rest of the building feel just as uncomfortable as she did. So, the woman stood up, checked her face again for vanity purposes, and strolled out of her office. Right in front of it was a metal railing with several threaded wires running parallel to the floor. It made a wide arch to extend around the second floor, overlooking the plaza that held the Floo Network's channels. She had heard that the Minister wanted to add ten more spaces to the five they currently had, which didn't make sense since it was all so quiet.

People walked fast around the plaza, carrying loads of files, clicking on the floor with their high-heeled boots, and trying to keep their suits from falling in disarray.