If I hold up hell, will you take the blame?
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
For the span of a breath she thinks she's done something wrong. The seconds ticking by as Ru seems to weigh her words. Her heart beats a staccato against her ribs, palms beginning to sweat as she holds on tightly to the tray, keeping it balanced and not daring to let it wobble now despite how weak her knees feel. She didn't think she could have it any worse for this woman, but she speaks again and the heat that seems to constantly curl in her stomach whenever Hotaru is within eyesight flares. Cordelia watches as Hotaru writes down her room number with a flourish. It wouldn't have been necessary. She already knew what room she was in, having to charge her meals and drinks to it every night, but the thought is appreciated none the less.
Her lips part to speak, but she's cut off, a strict instruction given and her mouth shuts quickly. Teeth clacking with the speed of it and she swallows thickly. As if she was going to say no. As if she could possibly turn her down. She couldn't. Not when every night she stared after her until the golden haired goddess disappeared behind sliding elevator doors. Much like she was doing now. Cordelia is still standing there, dumbstruck and silent, eyes never leaving Hotaru as she crosses the lobby and steps into the elevator. Only when the doors finally shut, forcing her to blink does she breathe again, weak in the knees and trembling.
The card burns in her pocket, shifting down further into the front of her apron, the corners pressing through the fabric against her thigh with each step she takes. There isn't much for her to do. She usually starts to clean about an hour before they close when there aren't many people inside. Much like it was tonight. She's grateful for that now, finishing up a full ten minutes early. More than enough time to rush into the back and freshen up a little bit.
"Okay.. Okay.. No big deal, Delia. Just- just a one night stand with the most beautiful women you've ever laid your eyes on. Yeah... It's fine. Absolutely fine." Cordelia mutters to herself as she looks herself over in the mirror, wincing at her smudged eyeliner and faded lipstick, trying her best to salvage what she can. She swipes a bit more color onto her lips, touches up her makeup and applies a spritz of perfume, hoping to cover up whatever lingering smell of alcohol hangs on her.
Forlornly she wishes that had the forethought to wear cuter underwear instead of the basic black cotton briefs that are under her dress. Sensible underwear. Bought in a five pack at the dollar store because she couldn't afford the fine scraps of lace that were sold in the boutiques scattered around downtown. God, what was she thinking? This was crazy. Stupid. Hotaru would take one look at her and laugh. What with her flat chest and ribs that poked out all funny because there wasn't enough meat on her bones. That woman could have anyone she wanted. Anyone at all. Yet she asked for Cordelia. It had to be a joke. A cruel trick of the universe, right?
All of this runs through her head as she clutches the strap of her bag, feet aching as she stands in the middle of the elevator, barely hearing the music inside over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. She's not even sure how she gets to the door, but suddenly she's there. Her knuckles poised over the wood to knock, hanging there for a moment too long before she summons all of the courage she can manage, rapping quickly on the thick wood. "I-It's me." Cordelia calls out, keeping her voice low as if being any louder would wake her up from what was surely a dream.
Her lips part to speak, but she's cut off, a strict instruction given and her mouth shuts quickly. Teeth clacking with the speed of it and she swallows thickly. As if she was going to say no. As if she could possibly turn her down. She couldn't. Not when every night she stared after her until the golden haired goddess disappeared behind sliding elevator doors. Much like she was doing now. Cordelia is still standing there, dumbstruck and silent, eyes never leaving Hotaru as she crosses the lobby and steps into the elevator. Only when the doors finally shut, forcing her to blink does she breathe again, weak in the knees and trembling.
The card burns in her pocket, shifting down further into the front of her apron, the corners pressing through the fabric against her thigh with each step she takes. There isn't much for her to do. She usually starts to clean about an hour before they close when there aren't many people inside. Much like it was tonight. She's grateful for that now, finishing up a full ten minutes early. More than enough time to rush into the back and freshen up a little bit.
"Okay.. Okay.. No big deal, Delia. Just- just a one night stand with the most beautiful women you've ever laid your eyes on. Yeah... It's fine. Absolutely fine." Cordelia mutters to herself as she looks herself over in the mirror, wincing at her smudged eyeliner and faded lipstick, trying her best to salvage what she can. She swipes a bit more color onto her lips, touches up her makeup and applies a spritz of perfume, hoping to cover up whatever lingering smell of alcohol hangs on her.
Forlornly she wishes that had the forethought to wear cuter underwear instead of the basic black cotton briefs that are under her dress. Sensible underwear. Bought in a five pack at the dollar store because she couldn't afford the fine scraps of lace that were sold in the boutiques scattered around downtown. God, what was she thinking? This was crazy. Stupid. Hotaru would take one look at her and laugh. What with her flat chest and ribs that poked out all funny because there wasn't enough meat on her bones. That woman could have anyone she wanted. Anyone at all. Yet she asked for Cordelia. It had to be a joke. A cruel trick of the universe, right?
All of this runs through her head as she clutches the strap of her bag, feet aching as she stands in the middle of the elevator, barely hearing the music inside over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. She's not even sure how she gets to the door, but suddenly she's there. Her knuckles poised over the wood to knock, hanging there for a moment too long before she summons all of the courage she can manage, rapping quickly on the thick wood. "I-It's me." Cordelia calls out, keeping her voice low as if being any louder would wake her up from what was surely a dream.
Cordelia
