Cruel Desire

03.

03.

(Belle's POV)

As the days slipped by, the looming start of university drew closer, and with it, a surge of nerves that felt entirely natural. Despite my deep desire to pursue Art, my parents steered me towards English, dismissing Art as merely a hobby with no viable future. Their overbearing control over my decisions painted them as toxic figures in my life. I, an adult, found myself still ensnared by their influence, unable to break free. The dream of independence, of living perhaps in the serene countryside, lingered like a flickering flame in my mind, a distant hope in the face of my harsh reality.

English and reading were pleasant interests, but they failed to ignite the same passion within me as Art did. Yet, it seemed my fate was sealed, dictated by forces beyond my control.

Though I had exchanged a few conservations with some fellow students-to-be, they existed in a liminal space between acquaintances and friend. Amyris, occupied by full-time work, had little time to spare, while Violet had slipped out of sight since the night of the party. Vivienne, on the other hand, occupied a peculiar place in my thoughts, stirring emotions I struggled to comprehend. Her presence lingered like an enigmatic riddle, disrupting the certainty of my sexuality. 'God, I'd let that woman do whatever she wanted to me...'

Yearning for connection, I found myself contemplating the upcoming party, a glimmer of anticipation in the otherwise mundane days. Perhaps Violet would be willing to accompany me once more, enticed by the promise of free drinks and lively company. The mere thought of encountering Vivienne again stirred a mix of excitement and trepidation within me, leaving me grappling with uncharted emotions.

As I lay sprawled across my bed, my gaze wandered to the ceiling, lost in contemplation. With a mere three days until the commencement of my university journey, a whirlwind of emotions and uncertainties demanded resolution.

Suddenly, the abrupt sound of the front door slamming shut shattered the silence, jolting me out of my reverie. A surge of apprehension coursed through me as I silently prayed for a peaceful evening, devoid of drunken disruption. Despite my adulthood, the mere presence of that man, my adoptive father, still managed to reduce me to a state of fearful vulnerability, a lingering remnant of the traumas endured in my childhood. The weight of his control, the shadow of his anger, seemed to envelop the very air around me, stifling any semblance of defiance.

I strained to catch any movements from downstairs, relief washed over me at the absence of echoing footsteps on the staircase. It seemed he had succumbed to his inebriation, sprawled out on the couch in a drunken stupor. The familiar pang of hunger gnawed at my stomach, a reminder of the harsh realities of my current existence. Yet, the prospect of an evening meal seemed within reach, as my father was going to be readying himself for yet another business dinner, a temporary reprieve from his oppressive presence.

The hours crept by in a cloak of solitude, my sanctuary found within the confines of my room, a haven away from the chaos that lurked beyond its walls. The distant sound of the front door closing signalled the departure of my parents, prompting me to emerge from my self-imposed seclusion.

Perching on the windowsill, I gazed up at the night sky, a canvas adorned with the twinkling tapestry of stars. Memories of my lost parents tugged at my heart, their absence a poignant ache that refused to fade with time. The tragic loss of my real parents in a car accident when I was merely six years old left an indelible void in my life, a wound that never quite healed.

Yearning for their comforting presence, I couldn't help but wish for their return, to bask in the warmth of their love once more. Instead, I found myself tethered to the grim reality of my current circumstances, entangled in the web spun by my adoptive parents' cruelty.

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(Vivienne's POV)

As I walked out of the door, Richard's hand encircled my waist, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. We were on our way to the business dinner Richard previously mentioned, I couldn't shake the feeling of discontent? A fleeting desire to shut down Richard's incessant chatter, perhaps. My heart ached for reasons unknown, a feeling of emptiness that I couldn't quite place. What was I missing? What was it that I couldn't possibly attain?

Arriving at the business dinner, we were met by a charming couple, their congeniality a stark contrast to the dissonance within my own marriage. As we exchanged pleasantries with Mr and Mrs Delcour and took our seats at the table, I couldn't help but notice the familiarity with the surname. Delcour...Belle...no, it couldn't be. Just a coincidence, I told myself. But thoughts of Belle crept back into my mind, I had only met her once, but she had left a lasting impression on me. I missed her, ached for her presence, even though our paths were unlikely to cross again. The yearning to meet again persisted, wondering how she was doing, hoping she was well. But I knew it was futile, a longing that could never be fulfilled. I eventually chided myself, suppressing thoughts of the enigmatic Belle that lingered in the recesses of my mind.

The evening unfolded in a monotonous rhythm, Richard and the distinguished Francis Delcour engaged in conversation, while I drifted in and out of attention. The meeting was dull and uninspiring, with Richard doing all the talking. I longed to escape, to retreat into the comfort of my own solitude. Drifting back to attention, the Frenchman exuded an air of sophistication, his features hinting at his heritage. Richard's strategic manoeuvring in forming a business partnership with Francis seemed inconsequential to me, a mere spectator to his machinations.

The next day, I remembered Richard announcing that he would be hosting yet another party at our home. I made up my mind to feign illness and avoid the social gathering altogether. But the prospect of Belle attending once again sparked a glimmer of excitement within me. Would she come? Or was it just wishful thinking? I made a mental note to attend the party, if only to catch a glimpse of her, to feel her presence once more.

Retreating to the living room, I sought solace by the crackling fireplace, immersed in the sanctuary of my book. Grateful for the absence of Richard's presence under the guise of work, I relished in the rare moments of tranquillity, shielded from his infuriating presence. I set my book down, with nothing else to occupy my time with, I decided to visit the cafe.

The thought of tasting the Red Velvet cake filled me with anticipation. Adorned in a semblance of readiness, I ventured out. My makeup was light, I was dressed in my usual white blouse and black trousers and slung over my shoulder was my familiar bag. As I crossed the street and entered the cozy establishment, the familiar sound of the bell greeted me. My gaze briefly fell upon a blonde-haired figure, a pang of longing stirred within me. Disappointment washed over me as the girl turned, her smile devoid of the captivating charm I had come to associate with Belle. Ordering my coveted Red Velvet cake, and iced coffee, I awaited my order with quiet patience. As I prepared to depart, a familiar voice halted my movements down the street. "Vivienne?"

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It's a short chapter, I know. I apologise,
I'll try and post another chapter tomorrow if not then after tomorrow maybe? Anyhow, enjoy! ♥️🫶🏻