Lana Del Ray, The Weeknd - Lust For Life
𝔚𝔚𝔚
AdrikRepulsive.
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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𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+
Romance𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . . . . . . . . . We've all heard the tales of good and bad, the tales of innocent deceit and...