Seventy-One: Obsession


((Max & Mel))

Has it seriously been that long already? Most of that time was spent hating him, trying to kill him (and failing), rising to every challenge he had thrown at her. Eventually, that so-called “relationship” branched out into a necessity of working together, just because they found that besides both of them being each other’s arch-nemesis, there were others working against them.

And that would simply not fly well with Carmella de Rosencourte.

Enter one Maxwell Kane…

He flew into her life, that cocky, arrogant bastard from imperialist America, wanting to take the European underworld by storm. Damn him. The idiotic prick got himself into so many near-death situations, it was a wonder to her that he was actually still alive! From being led into traps from rival assassin mafia squads, to drowning, it was no secret that Carmella wished him dead. Likewise, it was the same in his mind, for her.

Their relationship, from an outsider’s viewpoint, was rather unorthodox. Take fire and ice, and well, they were pretty much a nuclear explosion. And after all this time of animosity and mutual hatred, Max had asked Carmella out. It was the anniversary of when they had first met and declared war on each other. “How many years has it been?” she asked to the framed picture of the idiotic fool on her nightstand. There was Max, smiling cocky as ever, as if he knew something she didn’t know.

She rolled her eyes. “As if you could ever pull a fast one on me. I know you, Kane. I know your game, and it’s not very useful in your standing,” she warned to the inanimate photograph.

They planned this a week ago. Emptied their calendar specifically for tonight. Well, actually she did. As for how Max kept himself up-to-date with his events, that wasn’t her problem. “Just as long as he doesn’t forget that we’re going out tonight,” Carmella sighed to herself, blowing away stray bangs that had fallen on her face.

For a woman of her breeding, getting ready for a date took hours. Decisions like picking the perfect dress, the perfect hairstyle, how to act, whether or not she was going to give him more than a good-night kiss was very nervewracking to the usually calm-and-collected Carmella. Okay, so it wasn’t completely nervewracking, but she did have very high standards. Max, the blundering idiot that he was, was probably going to find some way to ruin this date. Even if he didn’t intend to, she just knew something was going to happen.

“Breathe, Carmella. You’re only making yourself more nervous,” she said to herself. Looking on her dresser for a finishing touch to her ensemble, she selected a perfume, spritzing it on her wrists then dabbing the excesses on either side of her neck. It was a classic Calvin Klein scent, Obsession. Maybe Max would like it. At least that’s what Mel hoped.

The intercom rang. “Ms. De Rosencourte,” one of her maids called. “Mr. Kane has arrived and is waiting downstairs,” she informed. “I’ll be right there in a minute!” she replied, pressing the call button on the intercom. Standing up and brushing down her dress of any wrinkles, she grabbed her coat and purse, then arranged the bangs in her hair (damned things always got in the way!) before exiting her room and heading downstairs.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? I’ve been waiting here forever, you know that?” He held his tongue on the word, “bitch,” seeing as Angelus was probably going to cut out Max’s tongue if he called his sister that in his own home. The moment Carmella reached the ground floor, she leaned over to Max, lifting up one of her feet behind her, intent on giving him a peck on the cheek. “I said you could call my cell phone once you got in the driveway!” she replied, rolling her eyes. “And I didn’t get a call. What’s up with that?”

Max laughed. “Chill, babe, I’m here, isn’t that what you wanted?” He leaned in to kiss her back until…

“AH-CHOO!”

The spray went onto Carmella’s face as Max sneezed, and she had to wipe her face. “Ew, ew, ew, ew!” she said, taking steps back as Max pushed her away at the same time. He sneezed repeatedly. “What,” cough “the fuck,” sneeze “is that smell?”

“Calvin Klein, Obsession!” she replied. Still having a disgusted look on her face, the maids couldn’t help but giggle as they were frantically handing her a paper towel, and trying to get Max something to relieve his sinuses.

And thus the date was cancelled due to Max’s highly-allergic reaction to Obsession perfume.