goddesses don't speak in whispers (mardyl)

His eyelashes fluttered as he gazed at the opened window which let the cold night air sneak into the suite. He immediately went to close it without further ado. Already pissed off by everything else in this room. The sheets' color, the wallpaper, the heavy velvet curtains. Everything was wrong. Not only in the room, by the way, but it was also like a consistent pattern in his life. First, he had gross rich parents who paid for his expensive school, then he met the hottest boy on Earth, and only then he happened to like him. Too much. He fell so hard for that guy who did not even try to listen to him one single time. And there he was, after all he did for Tobias, lying on an uncomfortable bed. He could have been to his parents' house, but they would have probably laughed at him and let him sleep only on the couch or something to punish him from being such an idiot. Maybe he should have listened to them when he was younger. His mother always told him that falling in love always meant crashing somehow. And he crashed that night, he felt the whole cake of love he wanted to share with Tobias falling in pieces. They had a fight, again. This time including more insults than ever before. Tobias always had to be a prick and his whole family a fucking cactus. But we could say the same about Dyl, it'd work perfectly as he was not right this time either. He fucked up, as always and went to far by slamming the door when leaving their flat. As if they needed that in their relationship, Dylan running away from their argument, not facing the fact that they actually have struggles in their couple. He preferred to ignore the strife, to avoid another bloody conflict as in Romeo and Juliet between the Montague and the Capulet. Dyl needed time, and space. Because even if he was deeply, madly in love with Tobias, their respective families always came in the way to fuck everything up. When he went at the Capitol Hotel, he expected a bit of classy, at least. That would have at least save his shitty evening. But no, there was nothing to be thrilled about in this suite. Actually, Dyl was pretty much appalled to see that no one thought to leave a candy on his pillow. Like, in which hotel does anyone forget about that crucial element ? Plus, he tried to reach the room service but there was no way to do so. He also tried the reception to ask why nobody was answering to his simple request of a pumpkin spice latte at almost 11p.m. But then again, nobody answered to the damn phone.
The suite was ugly and the staff incompetent, it wasn't his night at all. He finally decided to go downstairs and saw a man behind the reception desk in the hall. Hum, hello ! I'm sorry to bother you while you're busy being the most mediocre staff member of this whole goddamn hotel, but could you please tell me why someone left the window wind open ? I wanted to sleep in a nice warm room, not in fucking Narnia. Also, could you be useful for the first time of your life and ask for someone with an IQ higher than yours to come in my suite and fix the fucking phone because I can't reach anyone, like, literally, it's not Washington anymore, I'm in a no-man's land. Do I look like a veteran to you ? Do I look like I know how to use your fucking vintage phone ? I mean we're in 2K16 and I can call more people on plane mode on my dying phone than with your ANCIENT DIAL MACHINE.

That was finished. Martin has finally ended to put away and put in to order the different papers and booking of the day. Seated on chair, behind him desk he closed the eyes, which could finally rest. The night service was really one of the most boring ; rare was the person who came after 10p.m. So, set apart papers to be filled and to be tidied up for that everything is well in its place there was not much furthermore to make. It has to be a little less than 11p.m, probably 10.45p.m, when Martin left up to take a cup of tea. Nothing better than this to begin long hours of service. It was a quiet evening which announced there. And, although Martin did not like particularly the night-service, he was going to take advantage of the latter to take a good time. Returning to the reception by whistling an air of Beethoven, he takes a comic, who was put in obvious fact on a table of the entrance hall, and he began to read it, while drinking from time to time some full of tea. But everybody did not so want it. Indeed, a man arriving at the other side of the reception desk. Oh, he had seemed pleasant at first sight, but just at first sight, eh! Then, it is really left there anything, so that Martin preferred to listen to only a word on two of what the customer told. Another guy who wanted to blame for something who disturbed him.
If he had been able to him, Martin would have at this moment to drop everything to go back in him home. And at the same moment, he had only a single sentence in head « Problems are coming ». The chap had found an open window, and it had to come to make a scandal. Apparently he imagined in Narnia. Great ! If only Martin could see there Jadis and the polar bear, there, he would have some words to be told them. This man gave to smile Martin, he had the perfect archetype of the guy at the head of cover of magazines with scandals ! Then, yes, be irritated for something, that arrives at everybody, and then, it is very natural to go to roar in the incompetence in the slightest small problem. But it was its job, and he had to go to help this poor small sir. That it is very ironic ! Going to the customer, Martin gave one to smile feeling sorry wanting to mean that he was quite naturally going to help the latter. Because, yes, whether he likes it or not, it was necessary help him, especially when he would have been able to wake a whole hotel.

« Good evening sir. Hem... Then, before anything else, we are going to solve this small problem of window, eh ! That seems me to be the simplest. Then we will see for what you call antiquities.»

Yeah, indeed, this evening was going to get off to a flying start! It had been quite a while since we had not made a small scandal in corridors at 11p.m. Now, it remained to find the name of the man... Just to indicate that there had been a small problem into the files. And impossible to remember the name of the terror of corridors, or his number chamber. Certainly, he went to see very certainly the number when he was going to verify this unfortunate make window; but to ask he now would maybe allow returning the chap less choleric.

« Hem... Can you just remind me your name, please ? »