Jaxon.
What would you do if you saw a ghost? You'd be running towards the other way, scared for your life and you wish you'd never looked back, right? It isn't supposed to be the other way around. When you've seen a ghost, you weren't supposed to be fueled by anger, you weren't supposed to march at it and punch it with a bunch of prayers. Hell, you wouldn't even want to look back at it. But this one particular ghost here, is different. I feel like I want to rip out its skin, I want to tear it apart like I know it would tear her heart to pieces if she ever saw this in the light of day.
I could only dream of that to happen.
I tried to stay present with Curran for a good Thirty minutes until I told him to let's call it a night, we still have work to do tomorrow until the main event. Apparently, throwing such party this big, takes almost three to four days. And I couldn't help but wonder how massive this party could be.
This time, even coming over Alex's store wouldn't help the anger within me. The guy wouldn't understand how hard it feels to hold yourself from doing something that you might regret in the morning. I sat at my desk with mix emotions running through me. My hands went out on their own to grab my notebook from my bag along with retrieving my pencil. I tried to draw my emotions out by creating all kinds of strokes, just trying to pour my mind out. But, apparently the flames inside me felt like it was out of control, this time is the third time my pencil broke in my right grip. I exhaled out loud, throwing everything away. It annoys me how I couldn't speak of this to anyone. I wished I hadn't left my phone on top of that chair, I wished I just turned my back and quickly stroll inside, instead of being curious of the noises that were clearing the sound of sex.
I wished, what seemed to be, an obsession towards Missus Anderson stayed as mere obsession of wanting to touch her, to hold her—not into wanting to protect her, to care for her, to... Love her.
The sudden chime of a notification sliced through the haze of my thoughts, jolting me back to reality. I had been so deeply immersed in my head the outside world seemed to fade away. My hand quickly snatched my phone to find a text, from Missus Anderson.
Will you be able to accompany me for a full day tomorrow, Jaxon?
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart flutters just by reading her text. Missus Anderson wants me to accompany her tomorrow. Where could we possibly go? And most importantly, what could she be possibly need from me? I shrug off the questions in my head before my thumb punches on the keyboard.
Of course, Ma'am.
What time should I be present?
9:00 AM.
Wear something casual.
Goodnight.
"What do you mean you won't be coming in early today?" My dad's inquiry bore a tone that laced with suspicion, or maybe it was just a trick my mind played on me, fueling the paranoia of my own obsessions. In that moment, it felt as if my unspoken desires and fears had been laid bare before him, as if he could somehow know about my obsession towards Missus Anderson. His question lingered as he waits for my answer, his hand clutching onto his favorite mug, filled with the dark liquid of caffeine, raising the mug to his lips before taking a sip.
"Missus Anderson personally asked me, to be her chauffeur?" The answer to his question came out more like a question that I, myself, was confused too. Because honestly, I still don't understand what would my presence be of use to her.
"Alright, if Missus Anderson personally asked you then I won't mind." Dad responded, delivering a casual acceptance, while straightening the papers of his newspaper in front of him.
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Taming the Madam: Domenica (+18)
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