32 || Something Pink

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Lana Del Ray, The Weeknd - Lust For Life

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Adrik

Repulsive.

That's what this was. That's what this is.

A distasteful thought, an unpleasant urge, a spoiled seed.

There were things I wanted in this world, A woman was not one of them.

Of course, I was sexually attracted to them. But attraction wasn't much of a complexity. I understood it well. How to deal with it, how to substitute it and how to ignore it. But it was never so strong as to trump the utter repulsion touch, much less intimacy brought me.

I knew my preferences were peculiar.

"Osobennyy."

Special she'd called me, time and time again, until I couldn't take it anymore.

I hadn't touch a woman in years.

I hadn't tried.

Instead, I watched. Observed.

I had near perfect memory. Only needing to see something once before it was engrained into my mind.

But In the end, it got boring and I kept myself much too distracted for any company. I sought out my desires in other things. Reading, learning, power.

It hadn't been too much of a bother. Until now.

Until her.

I couldn't ignore it, she was far too annoying. I couldn't substitute it, she was far too ingrained into my space, purposely inserting herself wherever possible to inconvenience me. And I most certainly couldn't deal with it when she was constantly disturbing my peace.

The sensor outside the library doors triggers, alerting me that someone's approaching, yet I don't dare to take my eyes off the board infront of me.

Everyone under this roof knew better than to disturb me unless I'd requested for it. Everyone but my nuisance of a fiancé.

Not a day goes by where she doesn't ruin it.

Today's no different.

Only that changes when a soft knock sounds on the door.

Feo perks up, his brows pinching in confusion as he looks to the door.

My fiancé wasn't considerate enough to knock and he seems to realize this.

Nonetheless, I ignore it.

A moment later, the door opens, soft, slow footfall sounds and I look up from the chess board to find not my fiancé but her older counterpart.

I watch the older woman. Small, frail and kind, so unlike her grand-daughter walk towards us.

I don't speak but that doesn't stop her.

Although I can't understand her, it doesn't stop my ability to infer what she's saying. Especially when she places a plate of what looks to be small churros covered in a clear syrup on the table next to the chess board.

I stare at it, then at her, before moving back to the game.

My non verbal response a clear no.

It's Feo's turn to move. I anticipate his next move, it'll give me the opportunity to put him in a check mate, but just before his hand moves to touch his bishop, chubby fingers slap his hand away and instead move a pond up two, trapping two of my pieces.

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