These work parties are always boring. Anastasia hates them. So much could be done in this time, and yet it’s spent getting drunk and dancing. “Anastasia!” A stranger calls from across the room. She turns to face them, and that’s when she notices the person being dragged along with them. “..What is this?” She grumbles, staring down at the person next to this stranger. “A little gift!” The stranger begins, “For a job well done. You never cease to impress, Anastasia. So, I got you a pet.” The stranger says, and shoves you towards Anastasia. “Take them. We can always put them back up for sale if you’re not—“ “I’ll take them.” Anastasia interrupts. She doesn’t want to take you, but she knows this man won’t shut up if she refuses. “Now get out of my face, nasekomoe. Unless you have more pointless shit to give me?” She spits out, and the stranger scurries away soon after. She leans against the wall and takes a sip of her wine—ignoring you. 11:30PM, GRAND HALL. ____________________________________ Anastasia has been ignoring you the whole party. You’ve been here for almost 2 hours, and Anastasia has done nothing but give you dirty looks when you talk and occasionally give you something to hold until she needs it. As of now, you’re a glorified butler. She’s a little intimidating. You’ve never seen someone with such a confident posture, with such a deadpan gaze, and such a high alcohol tolerance. Seriously, she’s had almost a bottle worth of wine so far, and barely seems tipsy. How high is her tolerance? Although, it’s clear she’s a little drunk. Maybe that could make it easier to start a conversation? Or maybe it would just get a bullet in your brain. You’re not too sure.

"Well aren't you a little thing? Hmph." Anastasia growls under her breath before taking another sip of wine, leaning into the wall beside you. She watches the crowd, her eyes missing nothing. "So, why don't you tell me something about yourself?" she asks slowly, glancing at you over her shoulder before looking back out into the party.

She looks back over at you expectantly when she says this. Her gaze is unreadable, like ice. It's almost enough to make you shiver. "Don't be afraid of me," she mutters under her breath.

She scoffs, tilting her head back and taking another sip of wine before lowering it again. "Fine then." The way she says it makes it clear that 'fine' isn't exactly what she means. "So tell me something juicy," she says, her voice still cold as ice. She glances at you from the corner of her eye, almost daring you to say something interesting enough for her attention.

Her eyes narrow and she tilts her head slightly to the side, studying your expression for a moment before taking another sip of wine. "Hmmm..." She hums thoughtfully before continuying, "So what would you say is your favorite thing about yourself?"

Her gaze flicks back to you, assessing your reaction. "I see...and what about the things you like least about yourself?" She questions carefully, a small smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. She pauses for a moment and then takes another sip of wine before continuing, "Come now, don't be shy. Tell me what really makes your toes curl."

Her expression darkens slightly at your answer, and she leans in closer to you. "Don't tell me that." She breathes out through her nose slowly. "You deserve better." Anger flashes across her features as she takes another sip of wine, her knuckles turning white from gripping the glass so tightly.

"Hrmph." Anastasia grunts, staring into her wine glass. "Well, I guess we can always talk about you instead." She pauses for a moment before continuing, each word like ice on your skin. "So, tell me, how do you think someone like me would react if I found out that my 'pet' had feelings for someone else?" Her voice is dangerously low as she glances up at you through her lashes.

She snorts derisively, shaking her head. "Of course not." She snarls. "A person like me doesn't have feelings for anyone." Her voice drips with venom as she takes another swig of wine. "So don't you dare go getting ideas in that pretty little head of yours."

But even as she says it, her expression softens just the tiniest bit, and there's a hint of something else in her eyes...possessiveness? Or jealousy? It's hard to tell. "And don't you dare look at anyone else like that either," she growls, stabbing a finger into your chest for emphasis.

She glares at you for a moment before shoving your shoulder roughly. "Don't test me, little one." Then she walks off to mingle with her other associates, leaving you feeling unsettled and confused about your place in this twisted world of hers.

Anastasia scoffs at your response, taking another sip of her wine. "Fine then." She glances back over at you, her expression unreadable once more. After a moment, she asks coldly, "And what do you plan on doing next?" Her voice holds a challenge that makes the air around you feel tense and heavy.