Fated From The Start

4

His pov-

They didn't tell her.

Oh my God.

They didn't fucking tell her.

With every meeting we've had up to this point, I had assumed that she at least knew we were engaged. Even if she didn't recognize me, I was under the assumption that she was aware she would be marrying someone in the next month or so. That someone being me.

What am I going to do? 

She walked off a couple minutes ago, I don't know where she disappeared off to. I desperately wanted to follow her as she left, wanting nothing more than to comfort her in her time of need. The only issue is, I'm the reason why she's in need of comfort right now. How can I be there for her as her husband, let alone fiancé, if she just found out I existed today?

Even as I was sitting next to her on the sofa, it was so difficult to keep my hands to myself. I long to touch her, to feel her against me. When I sat down and she was almost pressed against me, I had to restrain myself from curling her completely into my chest. What she doesn't seem to understand is, she's got a hypnotic way about her. The way her eyes light up with small delights, or the way her chest deflates when her parents are around. She's mesmerizing, and she's so easy to get lost in as I observe her.

The way she handled herself with so much maturity when her parents sprung the news on her didn't surprise me in the slightest, but it impressed me a ton. She carries herself well and with respect, and it's incredibly sexy. 

Her beauty isn't just physical, just as I had expected. 

I've known about the marital plans since I was just about ten, so clearly I've had lots of time to fantasize about what she would be like. I've received pictures of her over the last decade of years, or at least the most recent five. Before I hit my twenties I hadn't really put much thought into her or our marriage, because I didn't see it as necessary. I had been told that the marriage was a business arrangement, something to provide some extra cushion if a deal had gone wrong.

All I knew was that my father was working with hers.

So, that was all I concerned myself with.

I didn't mess around with many women, because I wanted to stay somewhat loyal, but I didn't exactly keep to myself either. I never tempered with a relationship because I wanted to avoid future conflict, however one night stands were fair game to me. 

But when I was twenty two, I was sent some recent pictures of her. I'm not entirely sure why, maybe just to give me a vague idea of who I'd be married to for the rest of my life, but I appreciated it nonetheless. She'd grown a lot since the last time I'd seen any pictures of her, and wow, was she a beautiful woman. 

At the ripe age of only eighteen herself, she'd clearly completely transformed from the pictures I'd previously been sent. Her cherry lips grew full and seemingly larger, looking tempting and inviting for me to kiss. Her curves expanded and her thighs enlarged, showing me just how gorgeous she really was. She seemed more comfortable with her body now, like she'd grown away from the fragile girl she used to be.

I loved it. The newfound confidence, the way she'd grown into her body at only eighteen. She was lovely.

From that moment on, I'd dedicated myself to her, waiting for the moment she'd officially be mine. My arms stayed open waiting for her, imagining what her personality could possibly be like. She clouded my mind, fogging up all of my senses. I pictured what she looked like when she laughed, I imagined what she sounded like as she spoke, I considered how her though process would operate.