Page 49 of Even Robots Die
Ihate Brice. The man is insufferable.
Or maybe he just asks the right questions just to hurt a tiny bit. I wouldn’t put it past him to actually do it on purpose.
The man said he can’t feel a single thing since his brain was tampered with, but if I didn’t know that, I would think he relishes the idea of making me mad.
Some days—like today—it looks like it’s a game to him.
Which feels completely contradictory to the fact he organized all of that for me tonight and actually forced me to stop working.
I don’t understand the man.
And that’s a good reason to stay away from him.
I wander aimlessly after leaving the restaurant and the cool air soothes my mind as I finish the pizza.
Of course I left with it! I’m pissed, not an idiot.
And who would leave so much cheesy goodness on their plate, anyway?
I lick my fingers and double check that I didn't make a mess of my dress. That would be a shame knowing the price it cost me. Well, notme, Brice, but it was expensive nonetheless and I would hate to stain it and not be able to wear it again.
After a long perusal, I can say that it’s still in perfect condition—if you don’t count the fold marks under my butt that were made from sitting in the restaurant.
I wipe my hands on the napkin I took with me when I left the restaurant. It’s a fabric one, so I’ll have to think about bringing it back.
I look at what is around me and realize that my aimless wander wasn’t so aimless because I just arrived on the square that’s in front of the castle.
Maybe my mind is trying to tell me that I need to go back inside and sleep. It could be telling me that I need to go back inside and work, but the ache in my neck and sand-like feeling in my eyes are saying something else.
I’ve been in front of a screen for too long and my body is calling me out.
Brice might be an asshole, but he had the good sense to pull me out of the lab and now that I’m not surviving on caffeine and sugar, I can feel the effect of sleep deprivation on my body.
I salute Daniel, who is on door duty when I enter the castle, and continue my walk to my room.
The door is closed, but I can see immediately that someone has been inside when I enter my room.
A steaming bath has already been drawn and on my desk there is a jar containing layers of brown and white. Atiramisu.Next to it, there is a note.
“Franck gave me that for you, but since he didn’t give me any, I sampled it.”
That’s it. Nothing else. I don’t need him to sign, though. I know Brice wrote it, and I’m not even surprised that it was written in elegant cursive.
I open the lid, andobviously,half of my tiramisu is missing. I don’t call that sampling. If he were any other man I would call it sharing, but that word grates on my nerves and I don’t want to use it for the vampire asshole.
“Asshole,” I mutter to myself as I plunge my index in the jar.
Oh, yes, because he gave me the jar but with nothing to eat what’s inside. The jar and the note being the only things on my desk. No spoon. And I’m too tired to drag my butt back to the kitchens to get one.
I’ve eaten with my fingers all night, so what’s a little more?
I undress, slip inside the hot water, and start eating my tiramisu.
Might as well gain some time before finally going to sleep.
I finish the tiramisu, lick my fingers, and then wash my body before getting out and brushing my teeth.
I put on my sleep shirt and then crash on my bed.
