The Road Of Autumn [Interracial/WWBM]✔️

Chapter Twelve: A Promise to Stay

We promise ourselves to forever guard our tender hearts. We avoid the one's that stalk us for their own devilish desires. We survive the disastrous trails of mistakenly giving in. We even dare ourselves to forgive those who hurt us the most. But there is always this one person who changes everything.

This person allows you to be hesitant, guarded, and most certainly vulnerable. This person causes you to ponder your past decisions and dream of a suddenly eminent future. The only thing many still suffer from is actually accepting this person.

I give my reflection one last glance in the mirror, approving of the way periwinkle compliments my olive skin. The cap-sleeve lace dress offers a moderate feel of elegance and allure.

My simple accessories of a genuine silver jewelry set only enhance my confidence. I feel ambrosial, absolutely goddess like.

I blush at my reflection, twirling in a slow three-sixty. I cannot recall the last time I actually dressed up. I am not much of a gaudy woman, not the least bit.

I firmly believe that I can be stunning without the glitz and glam cliché sparkles and sequins provide, but I will have to admit, this lace makes me feel arousing and splendidly dangerous.  

Dangerous Autumn has a nice ring to it.

I giggle at my consciences assent and step away from the mirror to glance at the analog on my wall. It is half past eight and Timothy should be here any minute.

He promised to be here no later than nine. I usually detest staying out late when I am in the middle of a project, but I need this small break.

I want to enjoy my city. San Francisco is even more mesmerizing in its night hours. The lights that gently kiss the stars lure you into a world that many overlook.

Some may argue that New York City or Las Vegas has the best nightlife, but I dismiss those accusations immediately.

San Francisco is Las Vegas and New York City combined in regards to the total nightlife experience. here. This city does sleep, but the streets are always awake. And because of this, San Francisco knocks those carbon copies off of the grid.

A knock at the door drifts me away from my thoughts, causing my heart to flutter knowingly. I make quick work of my hands, buckling my silver sling-backs with ease.

I peep at my reflection one last time before rolling a tube of sinful red lipstick on my lips.

I am not really into make-up and especially lipstick. With my Irish background, my lips offer a natural toned down shade of red.

But from time to time I do enjoy enhancing my gift with a little bit of matte lipstick. 

My visitor gives my door another round of light knocks on the door, tearing me away from my mirror completely. I take yet another moment to practice my "supermodel walk", my shoulders squared, my strides effortless and long.

Once satisfied, I scurry towards the door, catching it in time as the visitor raised his Hershey fist.

"Hey." I smile, cracking the door.

He returns my smile, stuffing his once levitating fist into his trouser pocket.

"Hey. Can I come in?"

I feel a familiar warmth threatening my cheeks as I nod foolishly, sidestepping so that he could enter. He closes the door behind him, turning to me with that infamous smile of his.

"You look gorgeous, as always. Maybe enhanced a little." He compliments, his eyes a bit more appreciative than his words.

I nod silently raising my eyes to take him in as well. Tonight he sports a burgundy sports coat, ivory long-sleeve button up, dark denim, and midnight loafers.