her patience and understanding. her virtue of love that fuses and discombobulates the togetherness of a forbidden force of nature and reality she yearns. two bodies, one soul ridden with dire consequences of togetherness; but still they seek to make...
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The tension in the air was tangible, like a thick band of elastic, or a sheath of plastic among the faces of its people. It was deadly— dangerous— and had the potential to be could be cut with a knife as the numerical quantity of mellow humanity ups into a tense value of three. The Taveres residence goes quiet, rallying with no other noise beyond the shameless singing and dancing of the Dominican Republic native Silas Taveres, longing for home in the Caribbean in a northern place that looked and felt nothing like it. So he made do, plastering his life and origins along the walls of the home, merengue blasting into the world with a trademark of D.R. that brought a smile to the face of a man who'd been completely oblivious to the odds his daughter seemed to be at with the bashful man he greets with an exuberant, "Esoo!" Halting his moving body and extroverted antics in the dance he pursues with his not so extroverted daughter to bring the giant of a son-in-law into a tight hug. Silas pats his back rapidly, the tight embrace luring a wide and toothy smile to the shy Maurice who returns the embrace though the man was rather short compared to his six-foot-three height, but his personality seemed to outweigh his physical appearance as it made him seem bigger than he actually was. Silas pulls back, his voice bellowing with pleasure and satisfaction at the sight of the young man, and even more honored with the visit as the squeal of the lively three year old runs into the open arms of the gentle giant that was Maurice D'Amico.
"¡Feliz Cumpleaños! Happy Birthday, Mauricio! Here! A gift I buy for you mijo. My daughter and mi patito pick it out for you." His happiness was infectious, though their minds were still at odds, there was no stopping the bodies that seemed to exude an infinite aura of emotion and spiritual crave that allows for the feuding hearts to be at odds and not think twice about whom their hurt and blinding pride may be effecting in the crossfire of their love-driven hatred. But still they exist, closely and cautiously, reeking heavily of cashmere and a musky citrus that brings a grave alert of their arrival to the occupants of the home atmosphere and smiling thankfully down at the diamond cross chain he'd been gifted on a day he'd grown to dread after the call he'd had with the daughter of the man he pulls into an embrace, expressive of his gratitude to the older man, alongside his daughter who he lands a series of kisses along her smiling face before looking towards the vixen who'd been far too amused by the antics of her outgoing father to respond to the eyes that bore deep into her existence.
It had been a week since their argument, and a week since he'd seen her in person beyond the unwilling FaceTime calls their daughter had roped her into. A week of avoidance and silent treatment, exchanging their daughter through her father and grandmother for the sake of not having to see him, shutting him down with each and every chance he got to ask her to come back home, and it was eating him alive. From the inside out, showing from the unfamiliar chiseled look of his face, to the sunken in a darkened bags under his eyes, the distance was doing damage to the man from each and every aspect of his bearing as though he'd been suffering for years from illness. It was evident, discouraging, and reminding. Every time he looked in the mirror he'd become more and more unrecognizable, more and more unaware of who it was staring back at him and more and more unwilling of granting Florence the opportunity to deal with the pain of the disagreement they'd had as his mind was beginning to turn on him in ways that weren't safe to not only himself but the world around him. Only god knew how badly he needed her back home, how in need he was of her presence, her love, support, and care back at home with him, waking him up every morning and going down to sleep as he goes to work for the night. And from his stance just beyond her, it seemed as though she was affected by none of it. Her beauty still as powerful and concentrated as it was before, if not more than it was the night that's led them to a position here. Bickering silently, but still stealing glances from the other to take in how undeniably good the other looked with their week worthy distance and avoidance of one another seeming to being more harm to their final encounter than good.
