Olivia's POV
By midnight, I couldn't take it any longer. Every fiber of my being was screaming for relief. My chest binding felt like a torture device, cutting into my ribs with each shallow breath I was forced to take. The suit had somehow managed to find every sensitive spot on my body to irritate, and don't even get me started on the boxers I'd hastily thrown on at the last minute - they were riding up in places I didn't even know existed, creating the most uncomfortable wedgie situation known to mankind.
I lay there in the darkness, listening to Maxwell's soft snoring, and seriously contemplated whether this job was worth slowly dying of discomfort. The man slept like a baby - a very attractive, very dangerous baby who could fire me with a single word.
Meanwhile, I felt like I was being slowly compressed in my suit.
My wig felt uncomfortable, my hair underneath itching like crazy.
That's it. I couldn't survive another six hours like this.
