Investments

Spiralling.

That is all I seem to be able to do. I come undone like the stitches I have just sewn, the threadbare sanity pushing me to do this, something I would never have done on my own accord.

I stand there, the loose fabric already falling to the floor, because he is here, and I shouldn't open the door. I can't.

He stares at me, eyes darker than the night, darker than they say his soul is supposed to be. A smooth set jaw, a stony expression, and a wristwatch that could buy my whole shop.

I press my eyes closed, maybe if I can't see him he can't shatter everything. Everything I have ever worked for.

But there is no use in ignoring the imminent threat, the words that will stab through my heart, so much  that even I could not stitch it back together. 

He appears impatient and for a moment, I delude myself into thinking that he is agitated, that he for once is not the epitome of calm and collected.

"Heron," his deep voice calls out, a sharp tug at my heart which is ready to shatter. 

I can't breathe.

I'm falling so deep into this I can't even move, I'm running out of time just as I know he is.

"Heron, I won't ask you again, open the door," it's glass, the door that is, he can see me, he can document the trembling of my lips, the thundering of my heart, the jittery stare I give before I finally collect myself.

I stride to the door, my back straight despite the crushing weight of what is about to happen.

I can imagine it already, that thick red sign that will cover my door.

I plaster on my best smile, but it is peeling away from me, the taut lips do not meet my eyes that are fighting off tears.

Nothing like his, stormy and cloudy they are. Mine are a drop of grey, so very shallow, he can see right through me.

He knows how desperate I am.

I pull open the door, the bite of metal cooling the shaking of my hands.

"Mr... Astor," my voice is clipped, sharp as his stare, but so blunt compared to his countenance.

"Heron why did it take you a lifetime to open the damn door," his words blaze through the room. He is angry, angrier than ever.

"I'm sorry," I tried to bite back the waver in my voice but it seeped through. He didn't seem to care.

I doubt there is anything he truly cares about.

"Sorry-" he starts as though about to yell at me, but he must see my muted expression, me fighting back from recoiling.

He sighs heavily walking further into the room. There is something wrong and for once I don't think he's here because of something I've done.

"I don't have this month's rent today, but-" he doesn't seem to look at me, so I latch onto that moment of distraction to rush out, "But I'll have it tomorrow, I promise, I have this big client and she's getting her stuff tomorrow. So I'll-"

"Heron." he interrupts and the words dry on the tip of my tongue, "I don't care."

The words crash through me, and I try not to frown too openly. I never thought he cared, but I didn't like that he just said it like that. As though I was worth nothing, nothing at all.

"You don't care about my client," I tried to push, "Or you don't care about rent because I'll take either one," my tone is light but I am serious. I would much prefer it if he gave me more time to sort out my finances.

I know the moment his gaze snaps to me that I have made the wrong decision in carrying on talking.

"Heron, I don't play when it comes to money." his face stretches into a smirk that spikes fear into me.

He's scheming.

And I've just handed him the ammunition.

"I know, Mr. Astor. I promise I'll have it for you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow isn't today," he drawled and for some reason he stalked closer, unlike before he was not distracted by something, his gaze was solely trained on me. I swallowed trying not to make it obvious how afraid I was.

"How many extensions have I given you, for this month's rent? Hell, how many times have I given you extentension," his eyes bore into me, and they are an abyss I fall into, a black hole of nothing that is sucking the light out of my own eyes, leaving behind a corpse of broken hope.

"I-" I tried the flaterry route if all else fails pander to his ego, "You've been incredibly generous with your extentions, and as I said I would have your money tomorrow."

"Generous," he scoffed, "When have I ever been associated with generosity," 

I was digging my own grave.

Of course, a man like him would take being generous as an insult.

I had completely forgotten that men like Warren Astor were a different breed, their humanity had been stripped from them the moment they were born, not just with a silver spoon in their mouth but an entire set of cutlery.

"Never, you've never been sir."

There was a glimmer of something dangerous in his eyes, he seemed more relaxed, the tension in his jaw had slackened and his grin had widened, he stared down at his hand for a moment, onto his ring finger, unbridled by any woman.

There wasn't a being on this earth that could tie down Warren Astor.

"So tell me, Miss Ellis, do you have my money?"

"No- but I-"

He brushed off my words, "Yes, you told me you would have it tomorrow. But I'm afraid my patience has run out."

He stood straighter, reaching into his pocket, "Which means you must repay me today in another way,"

I flushed and I didn't know what had overcome me but my tongue was tired of being bitten back, "I will not do anything-"

He cut me off with a low chuckle, "What a wild imagination you have, Heron," and it was only then that he drew the object from his pocket.

I forgot how to breathe.

"What-"

"Heron Ellis, if you cannot pay me today, you must pay me in another way," his devilish grin cut across his face, dangerous, everything about him was dangerous. And the parts that weren't dangerous, were uncontained, broken from any mold anyone could ever press him into.

There was something singularly terrifying about that.

"Pay you..."

I couldn't even finish my sentence.

He flicked open the black velvet box and brandished a ring.

"Mr. Astor, I have no idea what you are suggesting but-" I rushed over and snapped the box shut as though if I hid the silver band and winking diamond it would just disappear.

He smirked down at me, "Rather bold of you Miss Ellis, there would be a lot of people who would kill for this opportunity."

"And what opportunity is that exactly," I had lost my cool, all reserve had been flung out of the window, at the mirth in his gaze, the obsession with being a hundred steps ahead of anyone.

"You're a smart girl Miss Ellis, isn't it obvious?"

"Yes, but you can wait a day, a day for me to pay. What-" I pressed my eyes closed, "What you are suggesting is absurd, absolutely crazy-"

"As crazy as me allowing you more than any of my boarders to have multiple opportunities to pay me?" he flicked the box back open, and it stared at me mockingly, "It's not a day, it's been years, years of you convincing me that you are worth the investmenet. Worth the money, time and enerrgy that has been put into this." He gestured to the shop, small and humble but expensive to renovate, and run.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, Heron, take this," he pushed the ring out of the box and reached for my hand before I could move away before I could runn before I could grab a few needles and prick some sense into him, he had my hand, a cool palm gliding over my left hand as he slipped it on, a beautiful piece of jewelry, to others a cuff, "And prove to me, you're worth it."