Project Daddy || a.i

Epilogue || Part 1

22nd December 2018

- Pandora -

I lay still, lifeless. Allowing the warmth of the sun to drench over my sunburned body like a tidal wave of euphoria, drowning me in bliss and happiness. The sound of waves lapping against foot trodden sand lulled me into a state of tranquillity, and with heavy eyes and sticky limbs, I cradled myself into the body beside me - revelling in his company.

"You okay, babe?"

"Mhm." I murmured, my voice a muffled whisper against his softened skin "Just tired."

"Do you want to head back to the apartment?"

Shaking my head adamantly, he let out a breathy chuckle before running a hand through my dampened hair, calloused fingers tracing patterns of love against my scalp. His free hand cradled my body as though I were his property and I willingly gave myself to him, yet there was always a part of me that remained withheld - unwilling and unable to reciprocate the love he displayed so easily to me. For I was claimed by another, and one day,

Ashton would want me back.

-

Water, cascading down my body like a waterfall of comfort, washing away the impurities of the past and the sand clinging to the crevices of my body. I felt free, hands entangled within the safety of my hair and smoke rising from my perfectly steamed skin, dispersing into the atmosphere. Condensation formed upon the mirror, blocking my glistening reflection, yet I saw myself in his eyes, arms wrapped around my naked body like a shield. My stomach was to his torso, his fingers exploring every inch of my exposed skin and I felt free, yet restrained. Soaring, yet grounded.

"So how was work today?"

"Rubbish," he answered, lightly laughing as if to soften the negativity of his answer "how was Uni?"

"Boring."

"What did you do?"

"Not much," I spoke "I had a couple tutorials and then went to lunch with Saul."

"Who's Saul?"

"A friend."

"A guy friend?"

Nodding, I felt the weight of my boyfriend's judgement rest upon me and I fought the urge to roll my eyes, biting back the words I wished so very often to bark at him. He interrogated my loyalty every time I mentioned a new male acquaintance yet failed to justify the random females he would kiss while drunk, their poisoned lips tainting the purity of his own. I disliked the double standards yet didn't have the courage to question them, for love made me weak.

Weak and stupid.

"When did you meet him?"

"A while ago," I answered, fingers clasped lightly around the soft curve of his bicep "he sits next to me in lectures."

"Is he nice?"

"He's lovely."

Nodding, I felt my lover slowly pull away from me to grab the soap - a bar of purity and cleansing. He then turned back to face me, a wounded look in his eyes - as though personally victimised. I humoured him with a small smile and he humoured me with a kiss, yet when it came to his following actions, there was no affection present.

And as he ran the soap along my dampened body, hands rough with secrets and lies, I had never felt so unclean.

"Y'know, I hate when you hang out with other guys."

"I don't understand why." I replied bluntly, blue eyes searching the depths of his own, attempting to trace the source of his insecurity "You know I love you."