But Nanashi Never Came
Chapter Three:
Mdii stared out of the window, focused intently on the blur of trees they passed. The air conditioning blew in her face, whipping strands of hair wildly about and causing small chills to run along her skin. The files her aunt had given her lie memorized in her lap, all two hundred and four pages of them. Midii glanced out the corner of her eye, watching Trowa as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. She growled, digging her nails into her palm.
"We might as well review everything," she began, attempting to keep her voice from being acidic. "I don't want any mistakes." Trowa glared at her, his jade eyes resonating. Midii snorted. "Do you really hate me that much? Well don't worry, if we get our parts right, we shouldn't have to be here for more than a few days. Then you'll be rid of me, and I of you." Trowa's jaw line tightened.
"My name is Bennett Veres, a twenty-three year old businessman who inherited his vast fortune from his deceased father, died A.C. 193. Most of my current business comes from industrializing new colonies, and we are currently in the middle of debates with the Winner Industries concerning a merger. I met you on one of my trips to colony XJ-19773. We fell madly in love and were married last April." His voice was harsh and sarcastic, and Midii couldn't help but mentally picture him as the young boy he'd been back on that day. She'd thought that he would have changed by now. But I guess some things never change, she thought crossly.
"Name of the club?" she questioned, adverting her gaze back to the window. Buildings loomed menacingly over her, the gray giants scraping against an unending azure sky.
"Ace of Hearts," he retorted, nearly overturning around a curve. Midii slid across the car, grabbing madly at the back of her seat. She heard the crunch of their bags in the back trunk.
"Would you watch it?!" she shrieked. "We have our equipment in the back, and the last thing we need is for it to get broken."
Trowa sneered, rounding another corner rather dangerously and slamming his foot against the brake. Midii groaned, feeling the seatbelt chafe roughly against the skin of her neck as her head whipped back against the headrest. "Trowa, what the hell-"
"We're here," he snapped, sliding from the car and slamming the door with a resounding thud.
Midii massaged her neck, glaring back at Trowa from underneath her bangs. Soon she followed suit, grabbing her bags and shoving past her partner.
Midii glanced up at the hotel, craning her neck in order to see the top. A large and intimidating presence among the other, more miniscule buildings, the Willard Inter-Continental was a century old hotel that lacked most modern conveniences while still managing to remain in fine condition. But despite the lack of current technology, the hotel was anything but unfurnished.
Trowa nudged her, a bit more curtly than necessary, and shuffled through the revolving doors. Midii followed, shifting her heavy luggage to her other shoulder and waving off the doorman offering help.
The lobby stood lavishly decorated, with deep peacock curtains draping the massive doorways and tied with gold rope on either side. Large, glass-fronted cabinets displayed ancient and highly polished delftware, while sunlight streamed in through the high windows stretching toward the ceiling. Marble columns, swimming with swirls of pink and cream, graced the entire lobby, occasionally adorned with richly woven tapestries of silk.
Midii made her way slowly to the reception desk, sidestepping the throng of other guests just let out from the banquet hall. She whistled tunelessly, shifting the weight on her shoulders again and tapped the silver bell on the counter. She sighed heavily, making a mental note to thank her aunt for the splendid reservations. Midii had known that the Willard had a marvelous reputation, but she had never expected anything as extravagant as this. She glanced around for some glimpse of the receptionist. The tapped the bell again, a frown creasing into her brow as no one appeared. She hit the bell for a third time, finally hearing a faint cry from the back room.
"Moment! Moment please!"
An instant later, a rather frazzled looking man shuffled through the doorway, pulling on his vest and straightening his tie. Despite his drained expression, he seemed rather young. In fact, Midii noted as she pulled the confirmation card from her back pocket, he showed no signs of graceful ageing whatsoever. His russet hair was a bit ruffled, his bangs hanging over his deep chocolate eyes. "Our confirmation number," she said handing him the card and taking a quick look at Trowa.
Trowa stood only a few feet away, pretending to be occupied with examining his surroundings. Midii scoffed, well aware that he simply didn't want to meet her gaze. The receptionist smiled, taking the card in his tanned hand and swiping it through slit on the side of the computer.
The computer hummed for a minute as he clicked gaily on the keys, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Midii arched a delicate eyebrow, lifting the strap from her shoulder and placing the baggage on the ground. The strap had begun to cut into her shoulder rather painfully. She glared at the receptionist tetchily, leaning her elbow onto the marbled counter and drumming her newly manicured nails impatiently. She glanced back at Trowa, making no attempt to mask her irritated features, and noticing how his weight often moved from one foot to the next as he continually refused to meet her eyes. But she didn't care. She knew what she would find in those eyes. She sighed, looking back at the receptionist.
"Haven't you found our reservations yet?" she snapped hotly. She kicked the suitcases sprawled around her feet gently, making sure not to damage the Preventer equipment concealed within the bowels of her blouses. "We made them just two days ago."
The man simply gazed at her absently. His eyes seemed to be somewhat glazed, a quirky and lopsided smile permanently fixated into his features. Midii groaned. The man typed a few more seconds into the computer before looking up at her again.
"Mr. And Mrs. Veres?" he asked, his head tilting innocently to the side. Midii clasped her hands together in quiet gratitude.
"Yes!" she nearly screamed. She swallowed hard as the other occupants of the hotel glared strangely at her. A blush rushed across her cheeks as she bent to collect her baggage. As she went to take the key, the receptionist shook his head sadly, though the smile had yet to leave his face.
"No no…" he stuttered, taking back the key from the counter. Midii made a desperate attempt to recover it as it slipped from beneath her fingers, growling in annoyance. "No no…here says two beds." The man shook his head again, grinning as he eyed Trowa and then Midii hungrily. "You one bed. Big bed."
Midii stood with her mouth slightly ajar. The bags dropped to the floor again with a muffled thump. Her fingers slowly made their way into the tendrils of her hair. She yanked, jolting quick-to-diminish patience back into her body. "No, we need two beds," she stated, attempting to inject her voice with only a mild sultry tone. "We'll be very busy tonight."
The receptionist nodded, placing the first key onto the rack and selecting another. He let it dangle in front of Midii's face. "Yes yes. Busy busy. One bed, big bed."
Midii flexed her fingers, amazed by his utter stupidity. She followed his ravenous gaze from herself to her partner, making every attempt to mask her shock. "I-I-" she stuttered, forcing a blush to rise to her cheeks. What could she say? Though she only half-heartedly wanted to press the matters further, her situation was a double-edged sword. Pressing the matter would cause a commotion and perhaps betray Trowa and herself as anything but two infatuated lovers. But by accepting the key, she would be admitting to herself that she did not mind the situation of only one bed. Midii breathed heavily, attempting to quell the fire that she had been subduing since her and Trowa's first encounter. "I don't know what-"
She felt his hand brush across her shoulder and take the key from the receptionist's outstretched hand. "C'mon," Trowa whispered in her ear. "We don't want to make a scene."
The receptionist smiled contently, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his vest and returned happily to the back room, shutting the door behind him.
Midii grabbed the key from Trowa's hand, making her way quickly toward the brass-plated elevators. "What do you think you're doing?" she snapped at they shuffled into the deserved elevator. "Do you even know what he was implying?" Trowa jabbed his finger into the floor button and leaned against the wall.
"Of course I know. He's a guy, what else was he supposed to think. Besides, your making a big deal about being forced to have one bed instead of two hardly makes us seem madly in love." His voice was snaked with unfamiliar sarcasm that only heightened her annoyance. She blew through her bangs, shuffling roughly through the doors the moment they opened and making a beeline for the room.
She shoved the key into the door, applying her weight to the door in order to open it.
The room was a small replica of the downstairs lobby, only with minor changes. The curtains, instead of the once flowing blues, now hung a deep crimson around the windows. Midii peeked into the bedroom, the king size bed draped with a velvet comforter and ruby sheets. There was a couch in the small living area where they entered, situated to look out on the west-facing veranda. The sun was only beginning to set, still a massive golden orb along the horizon. It's light swathed the room in a golden hue, adding to it's mystic appearance.
But Midii's frustration still raged as she flung her bags onto the bed and slammed the bedroom door. Trowa spun, hearing the audible click as she locked the door. He frowned, placing his things gently beside the couch, pressing his ear against the door and jiggling the handle. "Midii…" he growled. "You know I can unlock the door anytime I want."
"Go ahead and try," she snapped from inside, sitting with her back against the doorway. "But it will take you awhile to pick the lock and I don't think that you'd be as bold as to knock down the door. By the time you're able to break in I'll have installed another lock onto the door that you can't break into."
Trowa heaved, shaking his head in disbelief and pacing up and down the room. "Then where the hell do you expect me to sleep?" The door creaked open as Midii chucked a set of sheets and two pillows at him. Then she slammed the door again.
"I see a couch out there," she shouted from behind the wood. "And I'm pretty sure it pulls out into another bed." Trowa cast a disdainful look at the couch, checking underneath the cushions. Sure enough, there was a rickety looking bed.
"You can't be serious…" he mumbled.
"Of course I am," she retorted harshly. Trowa glanced at his watch. It was only six-thirty, and already they were locking themselves in their rooms and acting like children. He groaned. The party was in an hour. He hoped that Midii would at least come to her senses by then, and he prayed when she emerged he still wouldn't harbor the unbearable urge to strangle her.