All characters are 18 and high school seniors.
❥ Elizabeth Alardo craves power. She craves power over her school, and power over people. And soon, power over the nerd. With her Queendom being threatened, he couldn't come at a better time. Almost li...
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The air is tense and uncomfortable, Elizabeth's father is on the phone on what seems to be work call. Her mother sat at the end of the table studying us. Elizabeth's head hung low, fiddling with something under the table.
"I see you still haven't picked up any new manners. Don't slouch, dear." Her mother said, causing Elizabeth to immediately sit up straight. I frown, I want to comfort her but she refuses to look at me.
"Where were we?" Mr. Alardo finally came back to the table.
"Maria?" Mrs. Alardo called out.
The aforementioned woman brought out a cart with various dishes.
"So, what are your plans now that you've graduated?" Her father asks me.
"I'm majoring in Law at Yale." I respond as I scoop up some food onto my plate.
"Ah, a Yale man." He smiles, impressed. "I went to Yale too—"
He was suddenly cut off by his phone, which he immediately grabbed again. He seems to do that a lot. It gives me the sense he's not very present in Elizabeth's life. The basket of bread was handed to me as it was passed around the table.
"Are you really eating all of that?" The mother brought my attention back to their side of the table. Elizabeth had one piece of chicken and a salad on her plate. I tightened my fist in anger but kept my face stoic and calm.
She smiles at me in a way that may seem kind but sends shivers down my spine. "Tell me, Ivan, whatare your plans for the future? Do you see yourself in a stable, traditional role?"
"If Elizabeth wants me to be sole provider, I'm happy to do that."
"Right.." her face was filled with scrutiny. "She can be a little.. strong-willed at times."
Between each rude question and thinly veiled comment, a heavy silence settles over us. Every awkward and strained shift and clink of silverware is heard.
She sends her daughter a judgmental look, "Elizabeth, dear, I hope you're not scaring him off with all your.. modern ideas." She laughs as if she said something funny.
Elizabeth keeps her gaze on her plate, taking small bites. I notice she grips her fork a little too tightly, her shoulders tensing just slightly with each pointed remark. I feel a surge of protectiveness. It takes everything in me not to rip her mother's throat out right then and there.
I take a bit of my food as well, trying to remain calm. I stretch my leg out, tapping her foot with mine causing her to look at me. I try to give her a gentle, comforting smile. She smiles back, as if to say she's fine.
"You know, I still run into Bradly from time to time. He always asks about you." She directs towards Elizabeth. "I think he really thought you'd end up together."
"Mother!" She finally speaks out.
Her mother frowns at her daughter speaking out against her.
"The chicken is really good." I say before her mother decides to say or do anything that would make me commit something heinous in front my Elizabeth.
She responds with a tight lipped smile.
"Mother, I don't understand why you keep bringing Bradley up as if he's the model boyfriend." Elizabeth doesn't seem as willing to let it slide. "You're asking me to give up someone kind and genuine for someone who hurt me, as if that's what I deserve." She huffs, standing up and throwing her linen napkin on the table in finality.
"Ivan, let's go." she says, her voice steady but thick with a mixture of emotion. She turns without looking back.
"Thank you for the meal." I say, in a forced respectful manner, before following Elizabeth out.
As we step outside, Elizabeth takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. I tenderly take her hand, squeezing it in a comforting manner. I lead her into my house, where I hope she finds a safe space.
Once inside, I flick on the light and gently guide her to the couch.
"Tea?" I ask, my voice coming out soft.
She nods, sinking into the cushions, seeming to finally allow herself to let go of the tension evident in her body language.
I return a few minutes later with two steaming mugs, setting one in front of her before sitting beside her. She wraps her hands around the cup.
"You didn't have to put up with all of that," she finally murmurs, with embarrassment.
"I didn't mind," I say, reaching over to lightly squeeze her hand. "You deserve someone who's by your side, you don't have to deal with that alone anymore."
She leans against me, allowing herself to relax. I wrap my arms around her, swearing she will never have to deal with that disrespect again.
