Chapitre 88: 88 - The Only Way (2,0k words)
YaYa's POV
Mitchell didn't look tired, just too mushy to do anything, the afterglow taking its sweet time wearing off.
Damn temptation, it was inviting me, calling for me, begging for more action.
I swatted away my thoughts and called Bart to help me carry Mitchell to the bathroom.
After I put on my pants, I scrubbed the carpet and the wall, erasing any evidence that would hint at what transpired here. I didn't want to leave their body fluids lying around. Who knew? Someone might use them for their own nefarious purposes.
Romeo used to sleep around before falling in love. I still remember the scene of him burning his used condoms on his balcony. My room and balcony were right next to his, which gave me a direct view of the event. Some people would do anything to give birth to his heir, and I wonder if he did that to warn me.
"What are you doing, Princess?" Romeo asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Appreciating art," I said, surrounded by the debris that was part of the wall, made of lightweight material. Doing it with Mitchell against it wasn't a good idea, I realized. Now, it was ruined, cracked, and bent.
"... art?" He closed the doors and walked up to me, looking at the destroyed wall, "..."
"It's called 'Impressionism'," I explained with a poker face, crossing my arms, "The artist wanted to convey the feeling of an impact."
He looked at me, his lips trembling as if holding back a laugh, then played along with me with a serious expression. "This is a great piece. The way it conveys the moment before everything fell apart, very nice."
"Thank you, I tried."
He couldn't hold it in anymore and laughed, asking, "What made you feel like doing it?"
"Mitchell's dick."
He clutched his stomach, doubling over, wheezing and laughing, "You don't expect me to pay you for it, do you?"
I waved him off, "Nah, don't worry about it. This one's on me."
What an odd guy. Instead of cursing at me for destroying his property and refusing to pay for the damages, he laughed even harder. After a while, he was done.
"Whew! I needed that. Thank you, Princess." He straightened himself, his face looking slightly better, "The meeting was pretty rough. I was this close," he pinched his fingers together, "to ripping everyone's head off. It was quite stressful."
I nodded.
"You used to keep that bored and annoyed expression on all the time, making it hard for me to notice your charms," he said, his voice sounding a little regretful as we stood before my art piece like one would inside an art gallery, "I pushed you around on a wheelchair, carried you up and down the stairs, washed and changed your clothes and fed you, just for you to swap my heart and run away the moment your legs could carry you again."
"It wasn't you, who acted as my nanny, but his familiar," I reminded him. We weren't in contact after I left, knowing how dangerous that would be. I only asked for materials I needed to create bombs, strong enough to destroy father's bases, through the university, and even then, it was risky.
"Yes. If only I were stronger, I would have asked a female servant to take care of you or at least hired a private nurse," he said, a sad smile forming on his lips. "I hated how it was trying to force us to get closer, which made me resent your existence. It took me a while to realize that you were also just a person, trapped and hurt by the same man."
"What happened to your preferences?" I asked. Even though he didn't care about the gender of his lovers, he had his preferences: flat chest, big chest, long legs, thick thighs, small waist, large hips. He didn't care as long as his lovers had a specific softness and submissiveness, which I didn't have.
"They are just preferences. I'm not going to pine over them forever," he said and smiled, "I always found myself thinking about you. Not in a way that would make my heart skip a beat, but one that calms it. You always manage to kill my fears and doubts, which makes me wonder how many times you did that before, when I wasn't aware."
"So, what are you saying?"
"I'm in love with you, Princess."
"I know."
"You know?"
"You just told me."
"..." He stared at me with a complicated expression, "I mean, I'm in love with you romantically."
I blinked
"And sexually."
I blinked again.
"I want to kiss you, hug you, touch you, cuddle you, sleep with you, bathe with you, and spend my life with you," he added, and after a pause, "Not necessarily in that order."
I blinked a few times.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"An answer would be nice, Princess," he said, blinking back at me.
"Give me a script, and I will say whatever you want, Romeo," I said and walked past him, heading to the door.
"Ah, this is bad. My heart just skipped a beat, Princess," he murmured, following me while holding a hand to his heart, "What do I do now? Am I supposed to be worried or happy?"
"It's probably gas."
He paused, then said, "But I didn't eat anything yet."
"Then your stomach is gassy."
"That doesn't sound any better."
"Just fart. That'll release the pressure, and you'll feel much better."
"..." He looked down at his stomach and then up at the ceiling as if someone had destroyed the mushy atmosphere he was trying to create. He sighed, shaking his head, "Well, at least your response was genuine," he chuckled, and his eyes landed on the destroyed wall, "Do you mind if I repair your art piece?"
"Go ahead, Romeo."
"Why do you keep calling me that? Who's Romeo?"
"You."
"But why?"
"Because it suits you better."
"Alright, I'll be your Romeo then." He stopped before me, blocking my way and offering his arm to me, "Does it mean you've accepted me?"
"You heard what they said. We are full. There's no more space for you," I said, "If you try to get in my way just to get your hands on me, you will lose them. Move."
I don't need more enemies, but I won't spread my legs to avoid creating new ones. He's strong and rich, but I have all that, and more. Romeo wasn't my only partner in crime, after all. If I said yes to every guy, who thinks he's in love with me because I helped him out in a pinch, I wouldn't be able to even take a shit in peace.
When you have everything, you start to go for things that aren't easy to obtain. Romeo was the prime example of it. Freedom, forbidden love, and the power to decide his own fate were all things he chased. He had no problems pursuing people he shouldn't, even his enemy's love interest. The more difficult, the better.
His feelings for me may be genuine, but did I want to be his 'new goal', his 'missing piece', and his 'new challenge'?
I allowed him to meet my boys and let them figure out if they could do without him.
I didn't want to let them feel that way ever again, weak and not enough to protect me. Pushed to look for strong allies at the cost of sharing me with them. That wasn't what I wanted for them.
"I don't care about you, Romeo," I said, my gaze piercing through his. "The only thing that matters to me is them. If you want to be part of us, then prove it─ask for their permission to mark one of them with your spousal imprint. Don't even think about using them to get to me. If you can't give them every ounce of love and devotion you have, then don't waste your time. I'm not interested in another body in my bed; I need someone with a heart that beats for them."
Whoever said Romeo was too good for them and whoever felt he should find a better woman to love, I thought the opposite. He was not good enough for who the boys were, and for what I wanted.
His eyes wandered between his hands and my face. "So the only way to bond with you is through their spousal imprint, not mine. That's not fair, Princess," he complained.
"What are you willing to sacrifice to get what you want?" I asked, using the back of my hand to push him aside, "I'm not trying to play hard to get or be unfair to you. I'm telling you, that's the only way."
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I opened the door to see Mitchell trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, his ear plastered to the door. He stumbled and quickly straightened himself, coughing and clearing his throat when he saw me, "A-are you done? I came to pick you up."
"For what?" I asked, looking around, "Where's Bart?"
"He went to look for flowers to put in your bath water. He thought you would like some color to look at instead of the white tub," Mitchell replied, looking over my shoulder at Romeo, then whispered, "Why is he looking like he is holding back from attacking me? Don't tell me, you turned him down and told him off."
"We were having a civilized discussion," I denied, following Mitchell to the bathroom, Romeo tagging along, "I offered him a solution, and he probably didn't like it."
Mitchell rolled his eyes as he scanned my upper body, looking for a new spousal imprint. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to see through my bra and pants, "Where did you put it, Zeus?"
"I didn't," Romeo said, "yet."
"Really?!" Mitchell grinned, "I mean, how could she reject such a great male?" He huffed, taking my hand, and tried dragging me away, "Come on, Darling. Let's go take a bath. Just look at how sticky you are. I'm going to scrub every inch of you and then we will talk about the placement of your next spousal imprint, okay?"
When I continued to walk at my own pace, Mitchell tried to chase Romeo away instead, whispering in his ear, "Don't be sad, Zeus. If you want, I can introduce you to a female who is as nice and sweet as you are so that you two can be a happy couple and forget all about my foul female. You have my word. Just wait in the living room until I return." He then switched his attention to me, pushing and directing my shoulders, "Come on, Darling. Stop walking at a turtle's pace, and let's go faster."
My eyes wandered to Bart plucking flower petals from the vase in the corner. He was taking Romeo's words about making himself feel at home in a literal sense.
Bart paused, turning to look at me. His lips curved into a bright smile as his eyes twinkled with delight. "You're here. Did you enjoy yourself? The bath is ready and waiting for you."
I nodded, letting Mitchell pull me into the bathroom. The warm and fragrant water greeted me, along with colorful petals floating on top of the water.
Mitchell threw Bart at Romeo and told him to keep him busy. He quickly closed the bathroom doors and took my clothes off.
"So, about the location of your next spousal imprint..." he blabbered while guiding me to the bath and making me sit on the edge.
The boys would wake up soon, and he knew his time to be alone with me was running out, so he stopped talking and focused on being extra clingy.
His lips pressed against my shoulder, kissing me gently as his palm stopped at the top of my beating heart, feeling it through my chest. His other hand cupped my cheek, angling my head, his tongue licking the seam of my lips.
A chatterbox, he was; it was somehow difficult for him to speak out his feelings, preferring to use his body language to express them rather than words.
He didn't demand me to express myself vocally either, and accepted every little response and touch of mine.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
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