Tale as old as time | Fillie

Not Broken, But Bent

Part 2

He feels the lips of Emily pressing against his, a softness he is not used to. It's unusual, bad, and no matter how objectively it feels good; in the worst way, Finn's feel violated.

His body is paralyzed, the muscles tensed as that touch is making him feel sick right there. With eyes wide, utter disgust is running through him while he is realizing, once again, that Millie was right. She saw through Emily and got her real intentions in just one meeting. She would be so disappointed — destroyed — if she saw him right now.

With a fast spurt, he ends this sinful kiss and wipes away the stains of the red lipstick with the back of his hand. His lips part, disgusted, and the beast inside of him is destroying the metallic bars of the cage that is keeping it trapped.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He barely contains his growl, as he knows he is in the middle of a fucking restaurant.

She snorts, smiling playfully, "Celebrating our deal?"

"Emily," Finn shakes his head, his knuckles getting white as he clenches his hands, "I am not the man you think I am."

As if it is not a big deal, she shrugs, "Oh, come on. It's just a kiss. Nobody's dead—"

"I have a son. I have a wife." He interrupts her, claiming her back to reality.

Who was lucky to have a family... did not have any right to destroy it. Finn has lost both of his families, and for sure, he wouldn't ruin his Prince's one because he couldn't reject women running after him. He wouldn't destroy his marriage with Millie — he wouldn't.

"But you could even have me." She smirks once again, exuding charm and lust through her amber gems.

But Finn cannot be enchanted by a common beauty as he stumbled upon the Beauty herself, Millie.

Millie is perfect in her sea of imperfections, and he wants her for her simplicity, and her big golden heart. He doesn't need anything or anyone outside of her; he loves his playful, silly, clumsily wife that always knows how to make him feel alive, vibrating like a chord of violin, and most of all, so unashamedly blissed with joy.

And he loves his son too. Prince is his best achievement, and the best thing he has ever done in his life. He would give him all the love he had been denied when he was young — and his child would just know the "pain" of being suffocated by his parents' cuddles, kisses and attentions.

So, Finn stands up, slamming the napkin on the table and closing the button of his black blazer.

"You are fired."

"— What?!" This time, the world collapses down Emily's feet.

"You heard me. Stick the contract up to your ass, honey. You played with the wrong man." His teeth grit and he is ready to take some steps away before she stops his arm.

Her pride doesn't let her feel defeated, though. Emily Bear was like that: a woman who would do anything for success, and that she would reach fame getting into anyone's bed. This is how it worked, and she loved it.

"God, you really are in love with that insignificant thing."

That insult is enough for him to snap, and he's not a patient man. He never was and never will.

"Call her that thing again, I fucking dare you." His crooked fingers clench her chin, "Spit it. Call her like this again. I will crush your fucking skull."