Unconditional

Chapter 10: The Mind of Mr. Sanders

I made the last chapter short on purpose because I was more focused on this one :3

And please, before you comment on the chapter as a WHOLE, read the A/N at the bottom. There may be an answer to your question there.

Chapter 10: The Mind of Mr. Sanders

Rein

I was beginning to lose it. My cool, my mind, whatever the fuck people lose whenever they're beyond the point of frustration. There have been so many damn times when I'd nearly lose it just because of the spiteful shit that Harmony does to me.

But despite her spiteful attitude, I still love her and I needed to help her.

The moment I saw Harmony in the audience at the 2010 London Fashion Week, I couldn't help how entranced I was. She was sitting in the first row, her evil mother at her side. I remembered exactly what she wore, considering that she was the only one that caught my eye as I walked down the runway. It was an all pink, peplum top and matching pencil skirt. The gray heels she wore complimented her toned legs perfectly.

She hadn't paid much attention to me, aside from the brief moments I had to walk down the runway, pose, and then walk back.

When I flew back to Germany, I told my mother about the woman I was interested in. And, unsurprisingly, she was understanding in how I felt. My father, however, was oblivious to who I was interested in. All he knew was that she was a plus-sized model, courtesy of my younger sister.

But he didn't like that.

And I didn't care.

I was always into heavier women, and I am not afraid to admit that. But when I saw Harmony, I knew I had to have her. If my father and my siblings who backed him on his opinion about me wanting a plus-sized woman--who, in my opinion wasn't even that hefty--didn't support me, then they didn't have to know about my persuasion of having a relationship with her.

So I left Germany.

I asked my head coach if I could transfer to the United States men's national football team, and with enough begging, I managed to get him to agree. My teammates, majority of my family, and my fans hated me for doing it. But I felt that what I was doing needed to be done. I had an aching feeling in my chest that said that she needed me.

Getting my citizenship in America was an arduous task, but it was worth it because without it, I wouldn't be able to play for the States. But I was glad I could still model, although I wasn't very fond of it. Until I did the Diversity Photoshoot.

I hated to sound like a pervert, but I was content with the view of a naked Harmony. Every part of her was perfect in my eyes; her full breasts, wide hips, and the cellulite in her thighs. I relished every visual of every part of her enticing figure, even though I wasn't the man who got to touch her during the shoot.

I couldn't hate Juan Porras for touching Harmony. It wasn't his fault because it was his profession to do so. But I could say that I was definitely jealous of him.

"Glückspilz," I murmured to myself as I grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl. Indeed, Juan was a lucky bastard, at least in that very moment.

But it wasn't just Harmony's beauty that caught my attention. It was the fear and sadness in her demeanor.

The same day as the Diversity Photoshoot, I met her mother. Not formally, however. But it surprised me how quick the glow in Harmony's eyes faded into fear.

"Harmony, it's time to come home, now," her mother had demanded forcefully.

The rest of the models watched in awe while I observed how shaken up Harmony appeared. The closer she came to her mother, the more frightened she seemed.