Bittercoated

Goodbye Sanity For Hours

A/N: I don't add Smuts in my stories, honestly, how much does it disappoint/not disappoint you and how much you want me to write/not write some?

“Do you wanna build a talking statueeeee!” I dramatically sing like Anna looking at the roof of the hotel room.

It’s been a couple of hours since I’ve been hovering like a zombie inside the hotel room. I wanted to go out but Louis has told me to stay inside the room until he comes back. He’s not even receiving my phone call. What’s the thing he suddenly got reminded of out of nowhere?

I walk in front of the mirror and try to make myself busy by doing multiple moves, throwing my hands in the air and dancing crazily like there are ants biting my feet. I stop my private dance show hearing the knock on the door right before my favourite steps

Louis wouldn’t knock because he has the card. I utter come in when a faint female voice says it’s room service.

“Good afternoon Miss.” The lady in purple and black attire tilts her head a little down as if I’m the daughter of the president here.

“Good afternoon.” I reply more like a question when she doesn’t say anything after that.

Instead of returning the minimum courtesy of replying me back, she puts the bag in her hand on the edge of the bed. Flashing a hideous smile, she runs out of the room by lifting up the sides of her dress as if she has forgotten her soul downstairs which may blast anytime.

I walk fast to the door and sigh blankly not having any clue of her around. Locking myself behind the door again, I walk towards the bags which are not less expensive than the things inside it I can tell by the Prada, Hermes, Stuart Weltzman and other logos.

I take the piece of paper which is slightly pecking out of one of the bags.

7 pm, hope you can choose one to wear from the five sets of outfit. –Daddy L.

Damn he’s still not over the daddy fact which is embarrassing, for me.

Shoving the paper away on the bed, my excitement drops down when I line up all the awfully tiny dresses on bed beside each other. I roll my eyes at myself and look at the dresses again holding my hair in a loosen grip on both of my sides.

Why?

Okey, so two of them is backless and they’re not only backless, the cleavage above my butt can be easily seen if I wear any of these two. I take the red one in my hand and try to realize where the ending of its neckline actually is and according to my realization, it may or may not end above my navel.

At last the little black one, miss little black dress. Well, compared to the other wrecked dresses, it’s the only thing I’d like to wear in front of that annoyingly attractive bitch, specially after the word slipped from my lips during the match, daddy. It's beautiful with it's thick laced embroidery, turtle neck and the sleeves end below the elbows. The only problem with this beautiful dress is it's too short which may end just below my butt.

“Where he actually wants me to take that I’ve to wear this oversized bikinis!” I growl looking at the roof when I find his phone still switched off.

After a lot of investigation, I decide to choose Miss Little Black Dress over others.

//

“Baby, baby, come and save me…………………….” I hum with the song playing on my mobile while drawing a dramatic wing on the corner of both of my eyes with the black eye liner.

I put on makeup because I like to watch myself from dissimilar perspectives.

I tap the side button of my phone for the time to flash. Its half past seven and I’m still not ready. Doesn’t matter when Louis is not even here yet. I let my dark brown curls naturally fall down my shoulders before tying the belts of my new Louis Vuitton black heels above my ankles.