𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙

14: 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆

note: you're all about to hate
on a bitch

♥︎
clara

My heart feels happy.

Like somersaults, handstands, and cartwheels happening down up in there. I could be a gymnast with all the tricks I just know I could pull out right now. I am hyped.

Because they accept me. After everything I told them, they held me.

And they're still here.

"You're nervous." Vince says from next to me. It didn't pass my notice how the guys sat with me in the middle of our round table, in the fancy restaurant that Mrs. Jenkins picked. It's stuffy and full of old white men who look like they're going to run for government any second now.

When one of them looked me up and down walking in - gross - the largest man ever put one arm around my waist, and sent a glare that nearly made me timid. Now Vince sits on my left, with my chair forcefully pulled very close to him.

I've learnt to sometimes not question with them.

Slade sits on my right, his large hand rested on my thigh. Aren't any complaints from me.

"No shit she's nervous." His strong fingers squeeze around my leg, woah, "This is the most important meeting of her life, dick face."

I splutter, "I wouldn't say my life-"

"If it were that important, then we wouldn't be here, Slade. And because we're here, it'll be casual." Soren. My wonderful voice of reason who sits on Vincent's left.

"Call me a dick one more time, Slade, and I'll-"

"I called you a dick face, idiot. You know, like your face looks like a dick."

"Would you two stop arguing before I hide the wifi router at home so neither of you can go online."

Enough of this, "Would you please stop." I say, not rudely. Instantly though, their attention is on me and they're quiet, waiting for me to speak. "You're not helping dude. I'm stressed now."

"Don't be stressed, baby," Soren speaks calmly, an emotion of adoration on his face, "Just relax and let us be the ones to deal with that."

"And don't call us 'dude'," A grunt - very Vince like - is heard in my ear.

"Let us take care of your, pretty girl," Slade strokes his thumb over my cheekbone, and tilts my chin so he can place a pretty kiss on my forehead. He leans down and wiggles his eyebrows which makes me giggle. I return the favour - holding his temples either side with my hands - and press a butterfly peck there.

"You're so cute," I squeal, pressing Slade's cheeks together whilst he makes a funny face at me, going cross eyed behind his zoomed in glasses. Awe. He looks like a fish.

"You're cute."

"No you."

"No. You-"

"Hello gentlemen, it's absolutely lovely to see you again. What are we drinking tonight?"

The woman was wearing red.

And she was beautiful.

Long black hair all the way down to her lower back, sparkling, bright blue eyes. A figure that's curvy and one that I would kill for. She holds herself tall and with a confidence that commands attention, the perfect application of her makeup and bright red lipstick to colour match her ankle length, form fitted dress that doesn't hold a single imperfection.