Poison: Atropa Belladonna

Bella 9

A week before the wedding

Rita(RiRi)POV:

"The dress should be fine now. Don't gain or lose weight now." Olivier says, chuckling. I fake laugh, overwhelmed by everything that's happening so fast.

"Are you ok? You've been surprisingly quiet today." He asks me, concern written all over his face. I smile. "I'm fine. Just tired. I haven't been sleeping well these past few weeks."

He laughs again. "Excitements, I presume?"

I laugh lightly. "Of course! Look at this dress. It's to die for. I can't believe YOU are the one designing my dress. It looks perfect."

It really did. I looked like Cinderella or Belle. I smile thinking of when someone compared August and I to the movie 'Beauty and the Beast.'

I sigh and turn around so Fiona, Olivier's assistant to unbutton the dress, when my phone rang. I quickly grab is and sigh in relief when I see it's August.

My nostrils flare once I answer.

Phone conversation starts

Me: hello.

August: you are mad.

Me: you don't say.

I walk out of the room, dress still on, nostrils flaring and my face probably red.

August: I had to come up with a proper plan, without you rushing me.

Me: my wedding is in a week Aug, what do you want?

August: don't call me that.

I frown.

Me: what?

August: Aug. Don't call me that.

I go silent, confused. He sighs.

August: you only call me that when you are mad at me.

I chuckle.

Me: ohh, I'm not mad. I'm fucking livid. I don't mind you playing with my pussy, but don't fucking play with my emotions August.

August: you look beautiful.

I grit my teeth. My eyes rolling to the back with anger and frustration.

Me: what?

August: I said you look beautiful. Now turn around so I can see your breathtaking face.

My heart and breathing stopped. I licked over my lips.

Me: no.

August: should I walk around you?

Me: no.

August: well... how are we going to solve our little problem?

Phone conversation ends

He hangs up the call. I feel him breathing down my neck, his hands snake around my waist and my breathing catches, goosebumps tickling my whole body.

"You still don't want to turn around?"

His hands move from my waist to my shoulders, slowly, torturously, sliding down my arms, until he intertwined our hands. My eyes shut close and my back rested on his chest, inhaling his strong masculine cologne.