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|Dark Rapunzel|

"How's life, Leona?" the wrinkled voice of the old man rang in the white ceramic room

"A fucking bitch." The icy voice slashed through the warm air and everything around seemed to freeze. A fake gasp flees, and she let out, "Oops, slip of tongue."

"Is your tongue walking on grease? It always slips whenever you open your mouth." The old man sigh.

"Can't help, my mouth hates to cooperate with my nonexistent kindness," she remarked in a mocking tone.

Leona leaned on the slit of the window. Sunrays flirting with the curve of her neck and the ink carved on her smooth skin. The cool wind frisked with her long and pitch-black winter hair.

The striking woman carried her pride, beauty, and magic in those inky wisps, plummeting down to her hips. Honey skin glimmering with a chivalrous smile as she licked her lips. Her long slender fingers were wrapped in myriad silver rings which were sculpted with undefinable unique tattoos. She lazily played with the personalized black lighter, not bothering about the talks of the man.

"At least, look at me when we are talking," the poor CEO urged. The desperate tone in his voice oddly fascinated her. She liked it. She liked when people are desperate, she liked being in power.

The shadowy goddess slaying the glory of all black finally whirled and rested on the window rim, arresting the sunshine. "Isn't power like sex? You can't get enough of it. The more you get the more your mind drives you insane. And in the end, you either succumb your soul to your craze or be the evil one to make it yours?"

Ronald fell silent, clearly contemplating what to say when her aquamarine eyes-blazing with sapphire flames and a tranquil challenge, were affixed on him. "I can never understand your language. My brain cells hurt whenever I have a conversation with you."

The ghost smile nudging the deep dimples on her saffron sparkling cheeks as she slanted her head to the left, eyeing the uneasy CEO shuffling in his huge leather chair.

"Quit staring like that," he groaned, gulping down the frosty water. Leona let out a humourless chuckle and ambled over to the polished purple-daubed wall where numerous paintings were exhibited.

"It's so easy to overpower you. No fun," she mumbled.

Her slender fingers traced the painting of the fiery red eyes of the woman and blood dripping down her cheek but a dangerous smile prancing on her lips.

"Surprisingly you won various awards for that painting, but I still don't know what it depicts," the man spoke in a wearily.

The red resemblance reflected in her alien eyes as the swell of memories mocked her but she was abrupt to slap them hard and shove them back in the rotting box of hell burning in her body.

"It says, smile through your bleeds, and even your own heart and blood will fear you." Biting the inside of her cheek, she turned around to face him. The hot blood refreshed her mouth as she bit on the soft flesh unduly hard. "Scary, isn't it?"

Pain is a dangerous drug. It destructs you to the point where you begin to relish the tempting taste.

"Yeah hothead, scary like you. Now, When are you leaving?" he asked, casually eyes snapping to the lighter she was playing with.

"Tonight, of course. Why would you even ask?"

Leona despised attachments, worry, pity, and any sort of emotion that bound her soul. The soul that was already ambushed in the shackles of her black past. But the old man couldn't help.

Five years ago when he met her, he knew she was the one who was made to create history and she did. Currently the top-most artist in the country and eventually stealing hearts of people worldwide. The passion in her fingers was like a wildfire; messy, reckless, and impossible to tame. It was a shame that she resolved to retain her identity a mystery and blow up the word with the name Ebony.

"You should now come back, till when will you live away from your homeland?" he asked, voice low and tentative as if knew he shouldn't say it.

"Till I die." She juggled a laugh. "Now, don't ruin my mood."

Ronald stared at her wondering if he will ever witness her smiling. "It's been five years, Leona."

"And the world already disregarded me." Leona looked at him with a chilly smile. "I am good, Ron. When we signed the contract years ago, I made it clear. LA will never be my place to revel."

When five years ago, Ronald signed the contract with her, her demands didn't vex him. Leona resided in London alone and made dollars with her back-to-back brilliant piece of art, but not even once she peeked back. She never stepped into LA until months ago when she slashed her name on the list of the national award winners.

"Stop burning yourself, tormenting yourself, " he advised and it sounded more like a plea.

Amidst these years, Ronald grew to attach to her temper, her undescribable bitchy personality, scary smiles, and bratty attitude. For him, deep inside his heart, she was like his second daughter though he never admitted that on her face.

She wriggled her fingers. "Never. Suffering is part of my routine and I have accepted that fact."

Leona shuffled through her grey purse and tossed a package on his white desk.

"Just an ugly reminder that you turned fifty-two years old today, old man," she grumbled, sliding on the shades and pushing the heavy glass door open. "Enjoy your birthday. See you next year, or maybe never. I wish your bitch wife's ass to get bitten by a mouse."

Ronald shook his head with a soft smile and looked at the gift then at her retreating back. Her tender side had been dusted with past stains and fire burning with her, and he was sure someone will discover that side of Leona Pierce.

"By the way, you need to fire someone," she lastly said with the devilish glint.

.

.

.

The shady man, draped in a tailored royal blue shirt and filthy smile, captured her picture. The picture turned up to be smeared, so he shrewdly snapped a few more.

"Damn, this is fucking incredible," he purred to himself, staring at the pictures on his phone. "I will get nice pay if I sell this information to some news reporter."

He veered around to snap a few more shots, but she departed from the foyer. The man frowned, stepping out from behind the wall and looking around for her. When he still couldn't find her, he gave up and walked in the opposite direction, elated with the pictures and eager to trade them.

"But she's way too hot. Should I blackmail her instead?" he sneered, laughing out at his sick humour. Precipitously, he toppled over something and lands dead on his face, with a screeching cry.

"Fuck!" he squawked in pain, but his whole body froze like a glaze of hail in Antarctica when caught the sight of a glorious figure through his peripheral vision.

Her hands bridged across her chest, her one leg propped up against the wall while the other leg stretched out. She smiled, tilting her head as her silk black wisps veil her right cheek.

"Oops, my leg is disobedient. Anyway, did you break your bone?" she asked with feigned care, an icy tone that sent frosty chills down his spine. Her lioness-like gaze shredded him into chunks of trash. The platinum lighter in her hand resonated a stannic lustrous echo in the white hush, as her thumb fastened the lid only to open it again.

"No? Too bad. I was hoping at least your nose to spurt open." She grinned.

When Leona pushed herself distantly from the wall, a sheer terror washed his bones, making his blood go cold under her debilitating gaze and phantom smile. The winter-hair goddess's eyes trailed to the iPhone which lay feet ahead of him then back at the guy.

"I got this," the raspy voice announced, and her manager plucked the expensive phone from the silvery reflecting plates. He quickly took a look at the pictures while the man still lay incapacitated on the floor.

"You look awful in this," her manager, Ryan stated with a toothy grin.

Leona rolled her eyes, stepping towards him and accidentally stepping on the hand of the man, making him yelp in pain. If his bones didn't crack earlier, it sure did now.

.

"Blacked out," Ryan said, smiling in accomplishment, and passed her the phone. Leona peered at the man, who now finally assembled his balls to stand and he still looked like a mice under her blazing yet fascinatingly placid gaze.

"I would have given this back to you," saying, she simply knocked the phone back on the floor, "But you got me on a bad day." The man's eyes stretched as she stomped her high heel on his venerated phone and callously trampled it under her ridiculously cruel black heel.

"Hey! Hey! Stop that! My brother gifted that to me!" he roared, taking a step towards her but Ryan skipped in front of him, his challenging gaze forcing him back in his place.

"Keep your mouth shut or you will lose your job, got it?" Ryan arched his eyebrows, and the man bobbed his head, looking at his phone that was ferociously massacred.

"Humans are so boring." Leona winded around, wearied of the man, and strolled away. The classic symphony of her heels aped behind her shadowy figure.

⋆┈┈。゚❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ゚。┈┈⋆

ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ғᴀᴄᴛ:

ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ᴛʏᴘᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ.

ᴅᴏ ʏou?

ɪ ᴜsᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴜsɪᴄ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 'ᴘɪᴇᴅ ᴘɪᴘᴇʀ' ᴀɴᴅ 'ᴄᴀᴛᴇ-ɢʀᴏᴜᴘɪᴇ' ɪs ᴀ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ sᴏɴɢ.

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