ataraxia, lorenzo berkshire

"thirty one"

he was made from the tears of Aphrodite.

his skin represented the curated glow gifted gracefully from Helios, and beamed like his sun strung unfairly above the plains within the crystalline sky, like it would on a summer day in athens.

his eyes from Flora, representing only the purest of soil, the soil that would bear knowledge and would grow to be inevitable, but to shroud your world in greens. like honey his eyes were, and like foolish bees we were, only allowing this pure, golden substance to flow until he radiated within it, soaking ethereal in something that when inhaled, or tasted, made your mouth salivate with delight.

his body was carved out of polished marble, chiselled by Phidias himself, his skin polished and pristine - defined gently by an artist who knew in which to handle this boy with care, as not a single blemish was in sight.

but he was a cunt.
a cocky, fucking cunt.

"no way." onyx covered her mouth, looking quickly over at blaise, obviously alarmed by my statement, "you've fucking slept with enzo?,"

oh nah.
this is where i leave.
"i- i don't even know why she would say that"

"she's drunk," lorenzo started to get up from the small gathering, clearing his throat, "she doesn't know what the fuck she's on about."

i struggled to form an answer to onyx's question, debating on wether it was really me wanting to finally get it off my chest, or the alcohol turning me into an unlocked box of secrets eager to spew out at any given moment.

but before i could, lorenzo scooped me up from my seat and threw me over his shoulder, insisting that he took me back to my dorm to sober up and endure a well-deserved hangover after what i just admitted to my friendship group.

xander sent me a quick concerned look, however it was interrupted by lorenzo turning round before exiting, me still limp over his shoulder, the blood rushing to my head,

"-this bitch has no fucking idea what she's talking about."

he turned and pointed over to the group amidst saying this, some of them had unreadable expressions on their faces, others looked so amused that you could tell that as soon as lorenzo left, they'd burst out in laughter.

-

"why the fuck would you say that?,"

"i was drunk, lorenzo!" i panicked, dragging my clammy hands down over my face in frustration.

"do you realise the type of shit we'll have to endure now? from everybody?" he snapped back, slamming his hand down on my dresser as i sat on the bed opposite him.

"right, so it's fine, all banter when you fuck around with other girls, but when it comes to me all of a sudden you're mad? are you serious?," i snapped back, standing up from my sitting position at the end of my bed and stepping closer to him.

"it's different, valentina." he shortly replied, avoiding eye contact and staring out of the window, his eyebrows furrowed, his brown eyes fuelled with fury.

"how the fuck is sleeping with me different to the thousands of other girls you do it with?," i raised my voice at him, all up in his face.

i was naïve enough to think that sleeping with lorenzo would be okay, and that we could go back to normal afterwards, but i suppose that naïve-ness spouted during the heat of the moment, because sober, less-sexually overwhelmed valentina would never let this happen.

"it just is!," he raised his voice too, running a hand through his tussled curls in frustration, "Val, we've been friends since we were kids - it's weird." and a long pause followed afterwards.