a bizarre flurry of emotions coursed through her veins as she laid her steady gaze upon the man before her, lips pursed in a tight, coarse frown.
--no, not a man, he was far worst that that, more like a buffoon, an imbecile in fact, to be called a man would be granting a word of praise--
she was not too keen on being in the same room as him, much less share any sort of conversation with the warden. but sharice (damn that woman) insisted repeatedly that it may be good to perhaps mend the relationship between superjail and ultraprison-- not to become friends, sharice clarified, but to simply be at a neutral state with one another, as if that would somehow benefit the two of them. already the mistress could tell that she would only be wasting her breath. the first and last time she was with the warden, the mistress was forced to admit defeat, no thanks to that stupid little bet. yes, it had been at least a month since they saw each other last, but that did not disregard the rage and disgust she felt toward that pig in the slightest.
despite her absolute hatred for the male, she found herself eventually agreeing to see him, anything to get sharice to shut up already. with a rigid form, she sat stiffly in her seat, legs crossed in an attempt to keep a professional air to herself. it took all of her inner strength to act as if nothing had happened between the two of them, because she, of course, did not care whatsoever.
❛ i’m going to presume that jared informed you of this meeting-- i don’t want to mingle, or chat, or ramble on like you always do about whatever nonsense is on your mind. let’s just get to the point already. i have things to do. ’
this was an impartial lie; any tasks that she had to do were not that urgent, and could, in theory, wait a few hours, but like hell was she going to share that information with him. she would probably be forced to spend the rest of the day here, as if she were one of the filthy prisoners occupying his cells.
