Seventy-One | No Lace

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Someone could be terribly mean to me, speak venom with every word, and I wouldn't return the favor.

It's not in my nature.

Hurting people feels...

Like crushing a butterfly between your fingers, a senseless destruction of delicate beauty.

You might be angry, yes, but the destruction is heartbreaking, a waste of something lovely.

Perhaps that's the sheltered life of a princess talking, but I truly believe in kindness.

It's like a pebble tossed into a still pond, the ripples spreading outwards, creating a gentle momentum.

A kind word, a small compliment—it creates a chain reaction, a ripple of goodwill.

But for once in my life...

I'm beginning to think differently.

Because there doesn't seem to be enough of a ripple to affect Elle.

At least not with kindness.

- Azzy






Chapter Seventy-One: No Lace







"Lipstick?"

Renata smiled slightly as she held the tube of lipstick out for me, "Open it," she told me as I leaned back against the bathroom counter with her standing in front of me.

I raised a skeptical brow, taking the lipstick from her hands and pulling the top off of it.

And the sight alone made my lips part slightly.

I shook my head, "Ren—"

"It's a precaution baby," she murmured, sliding her arms around my waist.

I pursed my lips as I stared down at the shiny blade of the knife, feeling my stomach twist at the sight of it.

"I don't want to hurt anyone," I whispered honestly, putting the cap back on the lipstick disguised as a knife.

Renata hummed, "I know, darling—but if it comes down to you over her, it needs to be you," she murmured, drawing me in closer to her warm body, "It always needs to be you."

I nodded before I could think it through, peering between her dark eyes, "Okay," I said, my tone softer as I leaned up to press a soft brief kiss to her lips.

"Let me hide it on you," Renata said, leaning away from me to analyze my outfit.

Which I styled as my typical look.

I wore a long-sleeve white dress with a square neckline—the material was silky and grazed my upper knees which were covered in light pink stockings.

My hair remained pulled into a bun, purposely keeping my hair out of my face and leaving a few strands down to frame my features.

I felt my face burn slightly, noticing how her dark eyes trailed every inch of my body—before suddenly tugging at the bottom hem of my dress.

I raised a brow, watching her as she gently slid my dress up past my thighs where my stockings stopped.

And suddenly I was drawing in a deep breath.

Especially when she wrapped her hand over mine, grabbing the fake lipstick from my hand as her dark eyes held my stare.

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