Troye Sivan
Waking up in the spare bedroom I must have been placed in last night after falling asleep snogging with Mr Bixenman was quite abrupt. Much sharper than my peaceful slumber I fell into so easily. Much less fluffy than last night.
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" He shouts.
My eyes peel open immediately, hearing Mr Bixenman shout downstairs. When I hear him stomp up the stairs I shoot up into a sitting position. Oh boy, what have I done now?
As he storms through the door, the first thing flashed in my face is a screen reading his browser history. More specifically, my browser history. My face flushes red so easily, my entire being feeling as though I'm on fire.
"You're working for Pierce now!?" He interrogates, looking angry as ever.
I shake my head quickly, guilt raining down on me.
"No! No, I'd never," I try to back myself up.
"Then what the fuck is this? Huh? I give you a place to stay, a job, I even- just... and you do this?" He fumes, though it's evident he's more hurt than anything.
He thinks I betrayed him.
I put my hands up in surrender, eyes so quick to glisten with tears, "I didn't respond. It was just an email, I wasn't going to do anything with it."
"I promise." I add, "I'd never do that to you."
He only furrows his brows more, getting frustrated with the situation.
"You're not working for Pierce International." He murmurs, seemingly to himself.
"No, I'm not." I assure.
He snaps his head up, catching my gaze, "No, that wasn't a question."
"You're not working for Pierce International, and that's final." He declares.
I nod, finding myself submitting to him, "Okay."
"In fact, you're not working for anyone but me. Congratulations... you scored your fucking job back." He mutters bitterly. He tosses the laptop on the drawer and huffs, storming out of the room.
"T-thank you?" I call out.
"You're welcome." He grumbles, knocking things down as he makes his way down the stairs.
I sigh in defeat, leaning back and trying to calm down from that sudden burst of emotion. Christ.
Well, I have my job back, I'm officially his bitch again. I'm sure I just lost my place as a model for NEF, but I guess we'll see. I didn't love it anyway, I don't really see myself loving my body and wanting others to see it.
Standing to my feet, I walk to the drawer groggily as ever, very sleepy, and pick the laptop back up. I log out of my email I was so careless not to before and delete any evidence of it being on there from his history. I doubt he wants to see that again.
Looking to the time, it reads six am.
"Fuck this... I'm going back to sleep." I mumble, closing the laptop and flopping back into bed.
And so I do, quite easily, my face pressed against my pillow and gentle snores surely falling past my lips. Sleep so sweet and inviting, I welcome it like it were my best friend.
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a/n: how are you? all good? i sure hope so, and if it's not i hope you know it won't be this way forever. ily lots and of course am here for you too.
YOU ARE READING
sued into submission 🌷 tracob
Fanfiction"troye sivan, you've been served." the man in a black coat says, handing me a folder. i clench my jaw, taking it. "all i did was spill a coffee on the bloke, it's not like i fucked his mother in hindsight."
