Sorry, I had writers block for a solid minute. Enjoy this Chapter. ❤️❤️
••••
"Make sure you get the upper eye...case..place." He says, scrunching his face up causing the black charcoal mask wrinkle on his face.
I stifle a laugh while tilting my head to the side, "The upper eye case place? Stop before you ruin the mask, man!"
He smiles a little and I roll my eyes playfully before giving a smile back then put some on his forehead, making sure not to get any in his hair.
"On a scale of one to ten. How bad does this shit hurt?" He asks, pulling me closer to him so I'm standing in between his legs.
I look down at him, raising an eyebrow, "A solid nine-point-five." I state calmly while nodding.
He freezes as his eyes grow wide, making my eyes do the same. "Nine-point-five...Oh hell no. I'm washing this shit off."
He tries to get up, but I stand in his way refraining him from doing so.
"Uh uhhhhh..This stuff costs a lot of money. You better sit here. Beauty is pain, honey." I set the bowl and brush down, continuing to look at him.
He lets out a frustrated sigh, running his hands up and down my legs. Every time getting closer and closer to my butt. I squint my eyes at him, moving out of his grip then pick up the bowl and brush, going to wipe it off.
As much as I want to let him touch me I have to constantly remind myself that he is engaged. The thought sends chills down my spine..
He is engaged still.
He left you.
Left you...
I wish my head would stop bringing up these thoughts. I think it's the medication that's making me think this way and the constant phone calls from his fiancé doesn't help either. She's going to find out one day anyway. I'm sure she knows something by now..Someone has to have told her.
I set the bowl on the side of the sink and start washing the brush first as I sniffle.
A single drop falls from my bottom lash, hitting my arm. God, I hate when I do this. I'm such an emotional wreck..I can't even control when I cry or get angry. It's like I'm pregnant all over again.
I drop my head to my shoulder, wiping my tears off on my shirt. Once the brush is clean I move onto the bowl which is much harder to scrub.
He doesn't love you.
He loves her.
Hasn't he showed you that already?
That's why he hasn't told her, Lana.
"Shut up.." I whisper to myself, shaking my head a little before dropping the bowl into the sink, closing my eyes tight. I try to fight back the thoughts, but they only get worse.
Give it up..He doesn't want you.
I run a hand over my face as more tears fall, looking up at myself in the mirror, "Shut the fuck up!"
My head starts throbbing and my heart speeds up to its maximum. It's pounding into my ears like a drum, but out of all of the noise I hear the faint sound of my name and it's growing louder.
