I think this chapter is a bit shorter…hmm. I hope it's alright for now, though. Forgive me, school has burdened me with writing persuasives and essays on Nazi Germany. -sighs- Such is the life of a writer, though I present myself as an amateur. Journalism would hurt me, I swear it would.
I'm hoping to get into serious SasuHina in the next few chapters, but for now I think I wrote Sasuke accurately here…though I await criticism. Waw.
Chapter 3
Hinata walked through the door nervously and kept her gaze softly fixed on Sasuke as he stalked in quickly, rounding his desk and swiftly flying through the documents on it. Hinata was tempted to look around and admire the office, but she remained neutral as he picked up his phone and held up a finger to Hinata as a sign to wait.
"Yes, I need a hundred copies of that…well I don't care. They should be able to fix that. It's what they do, isn't it? … Yes I know I'm right. … Tell them not to make excuses please. I have no time for that. … He called again? …" Sasuke swore under his breath. "Fine, tell him I'm coming down. … Yes."
Sasuke hung up and quickly made his way to the door. "Five minutes," he said to Hinata, and then closed the door and ran downstairs.
Hinata finally breathed again and stood in awe of the office. Each wall was painted a navy blue, and the carpet wasn't the average washy shag carpet - it was a soft, cream carpet, with no pattern or deep texture - just smooth and soft to touch. It was plush enough to sleep on. Sasuke's desk was even more posh. It was a dark, varnished wood desk, and the top of it had a cream-coloured leather pad over it. Hinata was astonished at the luxury of the place. She could only imagine Sasuke's home to be one of those glossy magazine homes her mother used to buy. Paper and other office supplies cluttered the desktop. The chair was of black leather. She felt out of place in such beauty of a work area.
One of the walls, the one opposite the desk, was no a wall at all. It was semi-circular, and all glass. Light shimmered off it and Hinata squinted from the glare. She moved toward it and gasped. The semicircle-shaped floor was glass too. She looked down at the busy street and felt sick from the height.
Suddenly she heard Sasuke ordering the others around as he approached and she quickly darted to the centre of the room. He came in just as proudly as before and looked at her, raising an eyebrow as he sat on his chair. "Have you moved from that position at all?" he asked.
Hinata didn't respond - mostly because she didn't know what to say. Yes, I examined your office and nearly threw up over your glass floor? No, I've been standing here foolishly and waiting for your commands? But she didn't need to worry much. He gave her no more than two seconds before he began talking.
"So…Hinari…-"
"Hinata," she said softly. He waved at hand.
"Yes, Hinata. Now, let's talk about this…idea of yours." He leaned back in his chair and Hinata held her breath. He crossed his ankles under the desk and rested his hands on his torso. She wanted to run around his desk and grab his chair, fling it around and kiss him wildly, but, one again, it wouldn't happen. That was the thing with dreams. That's all they would be. Dreams.
"You have obviously captivated the office with your revolutionary idea." Hinata almost felt proud. Sasuke was…what, congratulating her? He leaned forward with his forearms crossed and resting on the desktop. "But let me cut loose the piano. Have you thought any further than the topic? Any subheadings? Plans?"
Hinata's heart sank. She should have expected criticism. She looked carefully at his face and thought she saw a tiny smirk dance across his lips. Why that- She was angry. She didn't deserve to be treated like that by her new boss. She had done nothing. It was like high school, when you know you should've aced an essay, only to have your teacher give you 98 and give a ridiculous explanation as to what happened to the 2, just because full marks lower their pride. She wanted to yell at him and call him every name under the sun, but her shyness reminded her of it's own existence in her. So she just shook her head.
"I didn't expect so. Tell me, how often do you think I allow a new employee to speak her mind and take the stage? You might want to practice a little discretion while you're working for Global."
Discretion? I know what discretion is. You don't know what discretion is. Hinata felt her face flush and swallowed the urge to slap him.
His face was straight, emotionless…painful to look at, even. She didn't know why. The look seemed so empty. "But, while we're still on the verge of writing this article, we might as well pick up where you left off. I expect you to be here at seven sharp tomorrow morning with some ideas."
Hinata stood in silence. He stared at her. "You can go…"
She spun on her heel discreetly and quietly left the office. Eyes watched her curiously as she made her way back to her desk and sat.
An instant message popped up onto her screen. It was Ino.
Ino: Soooo? Wot happened?
Hinata: Grr! He's so…
Hinata sent an angry emoticon with steam pouring from it's ears.
Ino: Lol.
Hinata couldn't believe the nerve of the man. She had saved the magazine from writing overwritten stories - a waste of time just to show up the opposition, who wouldn't care because it would be obvious who had had the idea first. Everything in Mr. Uchiha's feature article would be completely and embarrassingly the subject of materialism. She hated her boss.
"Was I really enamoured with this guy?" Hinata asked as they walked down the street after work. Ino grinned at her.
"I believe you were."
"You believe I was temporarily insane!" Hinata said, dropping her face into her hands. "He's self-righteous. Arrogant. Selfish. I hate-"
"You're being a little hard on him, aren't you?" Ino said, though Hinata detected the humour in her tone. Ino turned into an expensive boutique without a word. Hinata glanced suspiciously at Ino.
"You're into designer?" Hinata asked. Ino shook her head.
"I'm not. It's about to become your best friend, though."
Hinata stared. "Huh? I don't wear Gucci, Prada or Versace, OK? I'm not a supermodel, and neither am I a millionaire."
"I never said you were paying."
Hinata was utterly confused. "You never said why you're demanding I wear these clothes, either."
Ino sighed. "Call me freaky and weird, call me curious. I watched you in Uchiha's office. You're enchanted by him, and I can just tell something's going to happen."
"Are you insane, now? I hate the guy! Nothing would ever happen, except maybe me slapping him at least once before I retire."
Ino shook her head. She was serious. "It has to. You like him too much."
"I do not."
Ino swung out a few stunning dresses, elegant trenches and short skirts. Hinata gulped. "I'm not wearing those."
Her friend glared. "You are."
So Hinata reluctantly tried on the clothes Ino gave her, and Ino commented on her not protesting as much as she had expected.
Hinata almost slapped herself. Who was she kidding? She wanted to impress this man…this stuck-up, cold man…her boss…Uchiha Sasuke. And she didn't feel bad doing it as she walked out of the shop with six shopping bags with designer names printed in bold letters across each one. Ino had not been upset for spending so much. She just smiled at Hinata. "Feeling refreshed?"
Strangely. And as they walked into Hinata's apartment and she put on each outfit, she shyly smiled at the reflection and Ino cheered.
She felt like a completely new person now - not just on the inside, but inside out.
