[Story status- Completed]
"You have always been the joker of this gamble of lives my dear, and now is the time to use our Ace."
✴✴✴✴✴✴✴
To the world, she is an angel fallen from hell, but for him, she is a doll made of glass, and he is scared that...
Living out of the scene, out in the wild Learning to breathe up in the clouds, far from the crowds I can't believe, I can be loud Holding hands with the darkness And knowing my heart is allowed. -Selena Gomez
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A T H A L I A
The taste of red wine and blood always feels similar to me, sour and metallic. The crimson color reminds me of the blood my body sheds, sometimes for glorious purposes and sometimes for fun.
The smell of sex and alcohol lingers in the air, neon lights flicker dynamic patterns on the dance floor, people dancing with each other to the symphony of rhythm. My heartbeat races with the music.
I look at myself through the wine glass, my hair falling down covering my left eye while the other has a perfect cat eye liner on it. A chill passes through my bare thighs, which my black mini dress fails to cover.
I rest my head on the cold marble tabletop as I feel his hand stroking up and down my back. It's the bachelor party for which the grandparents pushed us all to go and hang out in a nightclub. They wanted Priya to enjoy this in her life at least once because she stays most of the time within the four walls of the haveli.
Avani waved at me to join her friends and Priya for a dance, but I declined. My heels were already killing me, and here I was sitting with the boys-Kabir, Cade, and Nathan. Of course, Ronan wasn't there to brighten up the humor because he was still a child.
In the dimly lit corner where we sat, his face wasn't perfectly visible, except for his piercing blue eyes and a scar near his neck-a detail I hadn't noticed before. He swirled his whiskey glass, and those veins... damn.
His other hand continued to stroke me, and I felt warmth between my thighs, a million butterflies dancing inside of me. I leaned back, hitting his hard chest, and gave him his favorite smile. His lips touched the glass of whiskey with a smirk as he continued his conversation with Kabir. No one could notice our position because of the darkness, but they knew I was sitting on his lap.
I felt like a slut, his slut? I traced his scar with my finger, and I swear I heard him curse lightly. "Shit, Lia," he whispered, removing my hand from his neck and planting a small peck on my cheek, whispering, "Pas maintenant, bébé"
His foreign words deepened in his husky voice took me higher than the alcohol ever could. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek to his unbuttoned chest, his wide shoulder covering my small body from anyone else's sight.
He lifted a small portion of my fabric, stroking between my thighs, his platinum ring sending chills down my spine. "Mmm... fuck," I moaned lightly, just so he could hear, burying my head on his body. My legs were shaking, my body about to give in to what I was controlling. I could tell my cheeks were red from the heat I was feeling. If he asked me to strip right there, I would.
