>Eleina
"Damn it."
I clicked my tongue in irritation and bit down on the nail on my thumb until it almost bled, my legs crossed lazily on the recliner inside my office. My red lipstick stained my nails from how hard it was pressed under my lips.
The chair that was specifically imported and custom-made for me rattles. No matter how expensive or comfortable it couldn't fix my mood. My fingers are anxiously tapping on the table.
Why was my sister not doing anything?
After I sent her the photo I took, there was nothing else. She never called or messaged me. Not even a useless warning or even a fuckass plan. She only told me one thing.
Stop following her. Let me handle the rest.
As if I needed to be told what to do, she just kept treating me like a pawn.
I exhaled slowly, picking up my phone whose screen was turned off, and I recklessly threw it on my table in annoyance. Then I started tapping my finger against the armrest.
