"Do you want me to take you seriously?"
Sensing her gaze on him, Dante turned to face the violet rose. She was leaning on her hand, her head tilted slightly. The right side of her face was no longer veiled, allowing him to see both of her eyes.
Her smile felt a little different at that moment. Her lips, covered in the same purple as her hair, arced in a gentle curve. They glistened under the faint light, appearing strangely inviting. Rose raised her glass, taking another small sip. Licking her lips, she looked at him once more, her eyes conveying a clear message.
Holding her gaze for a very long moment, Dante pursed his lips and shook his head. He wasn’t going to fall for it. Not again. Turning away, his eyes fell on his half-empty glass.
Now felt like a good time to end their date. He had done his part and kept her company, but that was the extent of what he promised his fixer. If her participation was of such importance, then Victor better find another way to convince her. The heist might be an important job for him, but Dante wasn’t about to let himself be turned into a plaything just for its sake.
Picking up the glass, he downed what remained of his drink in one go.
Dante watched the digital clock overlayed on his field of view, his mind in an entirely different place. As the minutes passed one after the other, the ceiling above him came into focus. Not only was it clean and missing the smallest of cracks, it also had a strange pattern on its surface, painting the image of pink petals scattering in the wind.
Of course, such a pattern wasn’t on the ceiling of his old and shabby apartment. Dante felt confused for a moment, but then he noticed that his right side felt strangely numb. As he moved to check, a sharp pain flashed through his head.
He squeezed his eyes shut, holding a hand to his head as he groaned. Try as he might, the bastards slamming his skull with their hammers refused to stop. It was a while before the pain subsided enough for him to form coherent thoughts, and when that happened, the first thing he did was check on the weight pinning his side.
The strange ball of purple hair confused him for a couple of seconds, at least until he noticed a few more things. He was on a bed, completely naked, and there was a woman there with him, also completely naked. The woman was someone he recognized, and that alone told him everything he needed to know.
’Oooh fuck...’ he covered his eyes, still refusing to believe. ’I have done it again...’
[Good morning, Dante.]
’Don’t...’ Wincing, Dante quickly thought aloud. ’My head hurts like hell. Don’t say anything... for now...’
The hangover was far too strong to originate from a glass or two, which means he had a lot more than that. Dante tried searching his memories, but everything was blurry. After trying for a couple of minutes, he gave up and got out of bed.
He grabbed his underwear, which was among the clothes strewn on the floor, and put it on. Picking the rest, he looked around the room then walked to a particular corner where the door to what he assumed was the bathroom was.
Quickly taking care of his business, Dante then stepped into the shower, but not before tossing all his clothes into the washing machine. As the scalding water washed over him, memories from the previous night came back to him one by one, causing him to cringe and groan each time.
’I need some coffee...’
[There is a coffee maker in the room.] Volcan whispered in his head. [Would you like me to prepare one for you?]
With his clothes having yet to dry, Dante simply wrapped a towel around his waist and left the bathroom to look for the coffee maker. He could’ve easily put on one of the spare outfits he had in his Storage and bolted it out of that place. Unfortunately, the headache made it difficult to think properly so his first instinct was to do something about it.
The coffee maker had several options for cream, milk, and sugar, but his resident AI had made the right choice of making the coffee black. Grabbing the paper cup, Dante blew on the pitch-dark surface of the liquid then gulped some. Just then, he heard a faint groan coming from the direction of the bed.
"Uuuugh... is that... is that coffee... I smell..."
Heaving a long sigh, Dante grabbed the second cup Volcan had prepared and walked over to the source of the voice.
"At least cover yourself." He said.
"Uuugh... my head...."
With her eyes still closed, Rose clumsily wrapped herself in the white blanket then reached out. Sighing, Dante gave her the cup and went back to his own.
"Bleeeeh.... it’s bitter..."
Drinking his coffee, Dante tried and failed not to look at the bed and the woman sitting on it. Rose looked different. Not so different that he wouldn’t recognize her, but different enough that her image clashed with the one from the previous night. The vibe she was giving didn’t match that of the flirtatious beauty he met at the bar.
"Dante..." Lowering the paper cup, she turned an awkward smile in his direction. "Take it easy on me next time, okay?"
Making a loud slurping sound, Dante swallowed the bitter liquid and stared at her for a few moments.
"What makes you think there will be a next time?"
"Eh?" Her head jerked up. "Why not?"
"Why, I wonder?" Pausing, Dante thought for some time, then asked. "Just to be sure, you aren’t married or seeing someone else, right?"
"No." She frantically shook her head.
"Good." Seeing that his drink had cooled a bit, Dante drank a big gulp as he walked toward the bathroom once again. "I will be going now. You do what you want."