Author's note: I broke my promise. I'm so sorry, but I was still as busy even after my exams. Oh, drat school, seriously. Sorry for the boring chapter but I really wanted to update this.
Disclaimer: You know it.
Head Over Heels
Chapter 3: Shock and Horror
To say Mikan was shocked would not even begin to describe it.
"Are you out of your MIND?" she shouted, her face pale.
"Uh, last time I checked, I was not."
"Then get checked again! You're most definitely crazy! Argh! Leave me alone!" Mikan hopped around some more. It amused Natsume how she could jump around like a kangaroo in high heels.
"Just be my slave and I'll leave you alone," he rolled his eyes and held up three fingers, to which Mikan raised her eyebrow warily.
"Three months. That's it. I will leave you alone after that. I won't sue you or anything for rendering me infertile," he said seriously. "I'm a man who keeps his promises. Ask anyone."
"Anyone? Shall I ask one of those skanks whom you previously dated? 'Oh, darling, I'll love you forever to the end of time'?" Mikan scoffed haughtily.
"I see you're in favor of the lawsuit? Well, be prepared to..."
Mikan hastily cut Natsume off. "Fine! I'll be your freaking slave!" She knew just how powerful and influential that darned man was and she wasn't about to offend him anymore. Well, anyway, being a slave had to be better than, say, marrying him for making him infertile, wasn't it? Mikan decided.
"Good girl," Natsume said in a dry voice. "I'll contact you then. See you later, Mikan."
"Natsume..." said person's best friend, Ruka Nogi, frowned at him as they sat in their waiting room. "Are you sure you want to do this? She's not a toy, you know."
Natsume snorted, "All women are toys. Mikan Sakura may be different from most, but she's still a toy to me. A slave." He grinned.
The kind-hearted Ruka sighed, fiddling with the annoying necklace the stylist made him wear. God knows why he became a model when he hated dressing up, anyway.
"You should stop playing around with girls, Natsume... To the extent of pretending you're infertile? You're seriously..."
"Smart?" a corner of Natsume's lips hitched up into a grin. "I know, right? She's too stupid to believe that a damn kick to the balls can make me infertile. Well, a tough guy's gotta have tough balls, right?"
His blonde friend face-palmed, shaking his head. Natsume was really, well, hopeless. "Don't mess this up, Natsume," he warned.
"You're speaking like you're a woman, wanting to protect your sex from the likes of me," the dark-haired model rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Well, worry about yourself first, won't you? You've fallen for the ice-bitch, haven't you?"
Ruka's cheeks colored, and he lit up like a beacon. Typical.
"Natsume-kun, it's your turn!" his manager Narumi poked his head around the door, raising his eyebrows slightly at Ruka's crimson face.
Natsume smirked and strode out of the room. "Don't sweat it, Ruka. All women are meant to be toys."
Mikan stuffed a bursting file into her bag, preparing to go home. The office was already empty since it was an early day off for everyone and she'd stayed to hand in her column. A sudden ring erupted from her phone, making her file drop onto the floor.
"Hello?" she grimaced, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she bent down to gather the papers that had fanned out on the floor.
"Dinner at 7 tonight. I'll pick you up at your office. We need to go through details of your slavery, bye."
"Wait, what?" Mikan slapped her file onto the table and held her phone properly. "Natsume?"
"Is it wise of you to be calling your master by his first name?" a deep voice said.
"Hyuuga, what are you talking about?" she ignored the jibe.
There was a sigh from the other end. "Dinner. I'll pick you up from your office now. See ya."
"Wait!" Beep, beep. Oh, great. The jerk had hung up. Rolling her eyes, Mikan blew her bangs from her eyes and made her way downstairs. To her surprise, a white open-top convertible was dwindling by the road, instead of the usual black limousine.
"Oh, so you actually drive." Mikan's voice dripped with sarcasm as she climbed into the lush leather seat.
Natsume adjusted his sunglasses and cocked his head slightly. "If only you have as much boobs as you do sarcasm."
Mikan's face flamed as she slapped her arms over her chest. "Stupid pervert. You deserve to be infertile, I tell you."
Natsume turned to face the road, hiding a tiny smirk as he stepped on the accelerator.
"Rich brats," Mikan muttered as the two of them entered a posh little restaurant. It was dark, lit by the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The carpet was dark purple with gold swirls, and tables draped with silk tablecloths were arranged neatly around the room.
"Mr Hyuuga, Ms Sakura," the maƮtre d' greeted in a polite tone. "Let me bring you to your table."
A waiter pulled out the chair for Mikan, another fluffed a napkin over her knees and yet another poured out posh-looking red wine into her glass. Mikan looked at Natsume, horrified. The same was happening on his side of the table, but he looked unfazed, as if having three waiters attending to you was perfectly normal.
"This is unreal..." Mikan muttered. "Rich brats indeed."
Natsume looked at her as if she'd just asked what gravity is. "Well. So, we'll go through the details of your slavery."
Mikan shot him a scathing look. "It's not slavery. Call it... domestic help."
Natsume raised an eyebrow, and Mikan suddenly snorted with laughter. Her whole body was convulsing with laughter and she slapped a hand to her mouth to tone down the peals of laughter escaping from her mouth. This was a posh restaurant... she had to maintain an elegant image.
"What the...?"
"Your e-e-eyebrows..." Mikan snorted, wiping a tear from her eye. "... are so short! Bwahaha! I've n-n-never noticed them before but... oh my God! It's definitely going into my next column. Natsume Hyuuga, the man who likes to raise his short eyebrows."
Natsume shot a death glare at Mikan, who shut up immediately. His red eyes had an intimidating aura.
"E-Excuse me. I'll... go to the washroom," the brunette said, obviously trying to stop staring at his eyebrows and chortling with laughter.
Damn that woman. Did she really have to laugh for ten minutes just because of his eyebrows? Jeez, they were short but he still looked hot, didn't he? And it was because of genetics! The first dish had already been served, and that darned woman was still nowhere in sight. Rolling his eyes, Natsume got up to his feet and wandered over to the washroom.
"Hey, woman. You can stop laughing now."
No reply. A redhead who just came out of the washroom stared at Natsume, who had put on his sunglasses as a disguise. "There's no one inside, mister."
Giving her a curt nod of thanks, Natsume strode off. Where had that little girl run off to now? A flash of familiar chestnut brown hair caught his line of vision. There she is. Natsume started walking towards her, ready to give her a good dressing-down for running off. She was sitting at another table with three guys, laughing and flirting.
"What the hell...?"
Natsume strode up and grabbed Mikan by her hair.
"OWWW!"
"What are you doing? We're eating together, or don't you remember that?" he glared into her big brown eyes.
"Hey," a handsome guy with reddish-brown hair and purple eyes stood up from the table. He took Mikan's arm and looked pointedly at Natsume. "What are you doing with my fiancee?"
Natsume's ruby eyes widened by a millimeter. Oh, the shock and horror.
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