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☾A L I Q U I S☽
"You good for nothing slut!"
"I'm not a slut!"
"Yes you are! Fucking whore, where the hell were you all this time, huh?"
Silence.
Blaine stares at his fiancée, nothing but a raw mix of disgust and disappointment on his face. Fists clenched at his sides, eyes narrowed to slits, a muscle ticking in his jaw. Anger courses through his veins, filling him up to the point that if he opens his mouth he'll explode.
At least the woman opposite him has the decency to look ashamed. Though, deep down, I know she's nothing close to ashamed. She's proud. She's proud of what she did. Of what she does. And she wouldn't change anything for the world.
Her blonde hair is a disarray of curls, piled precariously on top of her head. Her eyes are focused on the floor beneath their feet, but as she looks up at her fiancé, the love of her life, her light orbs dull until they're the darkest shade of brown, sadness swirling in them.
"P-please, Blaine, believe me. I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't sleep with another man," she begs in a wobbly voice, blinking away tears as Blaine's face remains impassive. She links her trembling fingers together in a bid to stop her nervousness from showing. "I would never do anything to jeopardize our relationship."
Internally, Blaine's walls are crumbling down. Each tearful look she gives him is like a sledgehammer to his chest, knocking all the wind out of him until he's suffocating underneath it all. His fingers ache to brush away those tears from her cheeks, to run themselves through her hair. She is his life - the center of everything beautiful and mysterious.
"I-I," she tries to say, her chest rising and falling unsteadily. Her breaths are shallow and her voice is wavering.
"I love you."
And just like that the tension in the room is lifted and replaced with another kind.
Sexual tension.
Their lips crash against one another's before either of them knows who made the first move, her hands winding around his neck and fingers curling in his hair as he cups her cheeks. Their scents of expensive cologne and honey shampoo mingle, creating a fusion that evokes excitement within them. Eyes tightly shut, hands running over the others in a desperate bid to satisfy the lust that wells within them, I watch as the couple pull away from each other, their gazes the only heat source in the cold, dark room.
His lips latch onto her neck as his hands grab the back of her thighs, hoisting her up on the dining room table. Her hands trail frantically over his shirt, fingers clawing at the buttons as breathless sighs leave her lips. Her back arches when his teeth nip at the sensitive skin at her clavicle, heart thumping as wildly as his, beating in sync.
