𝐺𝐼𝑆𝐸𝐿𝐿𝐸

7 | 𝑂 𝐿 𝐷 𝐸 𝑅 𝐵 𝑅 𝑂 𝑇 𝐻 𝐸 𝑅

CHAPTER 7

"And I don't know how you get over, get over, someone as dangerous, tainted, and flawed as you."

<3

Have you ever wanted something for so long that you imagined yourself having it thousands of times? Prayed a million useless words and wait and hope and beg that one day you might get the one thing you wanted? And then one night having weeks, months, years of waiting patiently, you suddenly don't want it anymore?

Somehow, the minute the universe detects your attention elsewhere, it magically falls into your lap. Why does the universe do that?

Do you still accept it, willingly and with open arms, to heal the person who would pray for this moment? Or do you turn your head the other way and look forward, realizing that maybe you don't want it that bad afterall?

I had always wanted to be in this position: waiting in the tennis court for Giovanni in a pretty dress. But now that it was happening, I didn't really care for it. For a few moments I thought about leaving and sending a note tomorrow that I felt sick and that's why I left.

Then another part of me, loved every minute of this. The young girl inside of me was happy that her prayers had finally been answered. In Paris, I realized it hadn't been in love but it some sort of obsession that grew from my boredom.

Pursing my lips, I looked up at the moon and fiddled with one of the hems on my dress. It is actually quite dark on the tennis court, the moon being the only source of light, along with the bright party lights in the distance. A soft breeze flew by and pushed my hair back behind my shoulder.

"Bad news,"

His deep voice startled me from my reveries and I gasped and turned around to face the entrance to the tennis court. Vincent stood, tall and strong in his suit. His face held what I thought was a ghost of a smile, but he also looked hesitant - disturbed somehow. His dark hair was neatly pushed back as it normally was and his suit was perfectly tailored to his body.

My mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. Something in my stomach dropped and his large figure approached me. I suddenly felt exposed and for some reason, embarrassed.

"Gio was in an accident. He won't be able to come. But he sent me to deliver a message," Vincent finished.

As he spoke, he took slow strides towards me, as if he was scared if he made any sudden movements I'd run away. And honestly, I would, he was intimidating. His handsomeness would have deterred me but his eyes were always so cold.

The only way to describe Vincent De Luca was hard. Very hard.

Like granite hard.

The first thing you notice about him is his face, rugged and stone like despite always being clean shaven. His face was completely stoic, so much so that I think the ice sculpture on the dessert table were closer to smiling that he was.