DIRL

 

Dirl

by sherlocks.

dirl—(v.) to thrill, to vibrate, to penetrate; to tremble or quiver

He tsk’ed at the monitor as if it was the most unappealing thing in the world. It wasn’t really the machine itself that had wronged him, but rather, what it currently displayed. His eyes twitched at the humble email from the company president, showering him with unnecessary flattery and all the universal social remarks, building and building, ever so slowly, to the ultimate inquiry: would he be willing to stay on board for another year?

Hell no, he wasn’t willing! But that isn’t even important right now! He thought he had taught the president better than this. Not that the email was poor, no, no, not at all. It was adequately appropriate and written in a way that made it impossible to rebuke. Even he was left speechless and for that, the president should certainly be given some degree of applause. He even managed to include a reasonable explanation for the purpose of his sudden email. No, the problem lied elsewhere.

Although it did not happen recently, Inuyasha was pretty sure that, at some point, he had gone over the importance of personal approaches with the president. Particular emphasis was put on matters that involved a request, favour, some form of reconciliation and/or compromise. He remembered explaining how advantageous it would be to discuss such things face-to-face and encouraging the president to utilize this strategy whenever possible.

Persuasion is an art that can only be used to its full potential when your weaponry was not limited by mere pixels of text. You must use your body language, your expressions, and the tone of your words to win your opponents over, even if only for 3 minutes. A signature takes less than 20 seconds, a handshake of agreement and a vow takes an average of 3 minutes, and the exchange of business cards requires no more than two and a half. A mere three minutes could guarantee a lifetime’s worth of benefits if the cards were played right. And this email was definitely NOT playing the cards right.

Inuyasha sighed. Well, not that he would have stayed anyway, had he been approached directly, but still. This kind of reckless behaviour just grated on his perfectionist nerves. Not to mention his personal preference for the non-diddling-daddling type.

But what could he say? He would be leaving soon. Five more weeks, he reminded himself. Five more weeks. It would be inappropriate at this stage to point out any misgivings. Above all else, it would imply that he was interested in extending the contract and that wouldn’t be good. As per unspoken protocols, he had been involving himself less and less in the various activities of the company. Instead, he silently encouraged others to take over for him, thus proving their competence and allowing him enough grounds to leave. No way would he ruin his plans now. Nope. The president will just have to learn one or two lessons the hard way.

Having made up his mind, Inuyasha sent back an equally impressive email, flattery and modesty very much present, and called it an afternoon. Today’s lunch would be spent with Kagome again, as much as he had been avoiding the encounter. He supposed it was about time he learned that Kagome would always get what she wanted. Eventually and always. He refused to stop being a stubborn ass about it though.

Every single day after he had sent that message to the supposed hottie, Kagome had bothered him with texts and voicemails and phone calls and facebook messages and fucking everything else she was technically adept at (which composed, surprisingly, a pretty big list). What, was it his fault the Don Juan didn’t reply back to his perfectly sculpted message, even after 3 weeks? Well, okay, fine, maybe not perfect, but it wasn’t all that bad either. And definitely worthy of a reply.

For all they knew, Mr. Lothario may have read the message and instantly remembered Kagome, which may or may not have influenced his decision to forever ignore the message like it was the last thing he wanted to see.

Ya know, just sayin’.

So he really didn’t understand why Kagome so passionately insisted that he MUST send another appealing text (in exchange for an order of deluxe Caffé Pistachio gelato, he conditioned), just to “make sure.” Clearly, pouts and sulks are in order. At least for the first 10 seconds of their lunch date, he reasoned. And thus, he was met with Kagome’s moping in response to his behaviour. The fact that he now had two orders of Caffé Pistachio in front of him meant he had won. Not that he wanted to brag or anything, but his pouts were pretty damn sexy.

“Are we really doing this again?” He had to confirm. If he could, nothing would ruin his precious moment with Caffé Pistachio. He had to try, right?

“Of course we are! I’ve been boyfriend-less for 3 months now, that is so not cool!” Trial failed.

“You know, single does have its privileges.”

“You would know!”

“I would.” He smirked.

The last time he tried the dating scene was ages ago. Ages ago meaning one year, and it had been a complete disaster. He didn’t have to be the cheesy or hopeless romantic type to hold his personal relationships with others in high regard. He cared for people more than he let on, which he knew often created impossible distances between him and his significant others.

When in a suit, he exuded pure confidence and facades came to him as easily as breathing in air. But facades aren’t needed in loving someone. For Inuyasha, this only made the task of falling in love lean more towards the impossible side of cupid’s scale. Real relationships, he found, are beyond difficult to find and form and even harder to maintain and keep. He needed to change, he knew, he really did, and last year, he thought he had finally found someone with enough patience to stick around and be the first to see such changes. But no, he thought wrong and god, he hated when he was wrong.

Let’s just say he won’t be ‘acting’ single while being tastefully unavailable anytime in the near future.

“But unlike you, I need to go on dates.”

“No,” Inuyasha corrected while pointing the tiny silver spoon at her nonchalantly, “you want, not need, expensive things your income cannot pay for.”

“Right, so I need to go on dates.”

Ignoring her temporary insanity, he asked, “Are you sure he can even afford your whims?”

“I think so, he definitely looked the part. And he was so hot, Inuyasha. Like you wouldn’t believe, seriously. His eyes are to die for, I totally felt like I was being pulled in!” She sighed blissfully and proceeded to stare at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Inuyasha liked it better when his attention was on his gelato. Solely on his gelato.

“How are you even sure? Didn’t you only get to see the guy for like, 3 minutes or something?”

“Yeah, but Inuyasha, he was ordering Dom Pérignons like fifty-cent lemonade before I even introduced myself. That’s got to say something about his wallet.”

“Or his friend’s wallet. Maybe even his parents’. Or perhaps his entire savings up until that night. You never know.” He shrugged, already considering another order of oral ecstasy.

“Would me saying ‘please, with a cherry on top’ change your mind?” She tried.

It was her time to fail though. “Nope.”

But Inuyasha was such a good friend, so, “But a please and a cherry on top of a Lemon Sorbet just might do the trick.”

Kagome grinned, made the order, and edged her cellphone across the table towards him. This time, he willingly accepted the godforsaken device.

“Okay, so I guess I just want to say hello, and um, maybe ask him again whether he remembers me or not? I wore the hot pink tank top that night—”

“Give me something else.” He interrupted suddenly.

“What?”

He looked up from the texting interface with a dull look. “How many girls in pink tank tops do you think a guy like him would see in one night, at a popular club?”

“Oh, right, uhm…er…”

“Just spit it out, Kagome.”

“I, uh, kind of spilled a drink on him…”

Inuyasha stared at her for a whole five seconds before bursting out laughing. “Phfft! Nice going, Kagome, that’s a great way to steal someone’s heart!” Oh, his stomach ached so well.

“I-It wasn’t my fault, I swear! This blonde foreigner behind me pushed me and it just happened by accident!” The ferocious red of her face said otherwise, but Inuyasha managed to force down his amusements, although reluctantly, and completed the finishing touches to the text message:

Hey again, ye who sucks butt at responding to messages. I’m a nice person so I’ll just assume that you forgot the name I threw at you that night (as well as my, still, sweet little face). If it helps at all though, I was wearing a pink tank top and also managed to paint quite a beautiful colour across the canvas of your shirt (completely unintentionally, I promise). So maybe give a shout back so that I can at least apologize, yeah?

He read it over one last time before hitting send, but honestly, can you blame him for snickering?

“If he doesn’t reply to this message, I will buy you those deadly heels you’ve been eyeing for the last week and a half.” He assured with a brilliant smile, positive that there was no human being on the face of this planet who would not be at least a little bit perturbed by his subtly provocative challenge mail.