CONNOR POV
The precipitation has subsided in contrast to the tumultuous thunderstorm that preceded it. Once again, my restless mind refused to grant me repose, consumed as it was with thoughts of her. The weight of it all bore down heavily, like an oppressive burden. The allure of her smile, the endearing quirkiness of her personality, and the captivating combination of her beauty and intelligence were impossible to ignore. Her company was effortless, and even now, the lingering fragrance of her presence tantalizes my senses. The depths of my being are riddled with a repugnant quality.
As I turned to face Dawn, still soundly asleep beside me, a wriggling sensation of guilt began to take hold within me. Though I have made the conscious decision to select her over Alana, I find myself unable to shake thoughts of the latter from my mind. My messages, carefully crafted and sent with heartfelt intention, remain unopened and unanswered. It seems that she has made the decision to remove me entirely from her life. Uncertainty clouded my mind regarding my expectations following our breakup. In a sudden moment, it seems as though we have become complete strangers, a reality that I had not anticipated.
I rise from the comfort of my bed and make my way towards the table, my footsteps echoing in the stillness of the room. With a heavy heart, I pour myself a glass of water, hoping to quench the dryness in my throat that seems to have settled there since the moment I hurt her. I abandoned her, standing solitary at the altar, in the presence of a multitude of witnesses. I possess qualities that some may perceive as an asshole. My father's anger towards me remains palpable, as he adamantly refuses to entertain the idea of meeting Dawn or allowing her to accompany me to any future family gatherings. Craving a breath of fresh air, I found myself grappling with the tension in my relationships with those around me. Alana, with her effortless charm and innate likability, had effortlessly won over the hearts of all those in our circle.As I deftly donned my shirt, I took a moment to pen a note for Dawn, ensuring that upon her awakening, she would be aware of my imminent return.
Navigating our relationship has proven to be quite challenging for the both of us. She was aware of my involvement with Alana, and unfortunately, her insecurities began to escalate to a point where our time together was often consumed by arguments rather than moments of genuine enjoyment. Her apprehension is rooted in the possibility of my departure, akin to the way I left Lana. In the past, I found great pleasure in the way Dawn would cling to me, her possessiveness a desirable trait. The notion of her pouting whenever Lana paid a visit or when we were together was particularly alluring.
Recalling the number of times Lana and I engaged in conflict during our youthful romance eludes me. Our love story began at the tender age of 17 and spanned a remarkable nine years. Lana's exceptional character was marked by her unwavering understanding and lack of imposition on my life. The relationship flowed with ease. Our synchronization was impeccable. Our preferences are identical.
Regrettably, this was the very thing that left me feeling unvalued in her eyes. It seemed to me that her love for me was insufficient, as she did not exhibit the same level of possessiveness as Dawn. She never exerted any pressure on me to reciprocate her feelings. As a male, the blow to my ego is palpable.
As I sat in my car, lost in thought, I suddenly became aware that my mind had been consumed by thoughts of Alana. The admission weighs heavily on my heart - the ache of missing her is a constant presence. The pain is unbearable, a constant reminder of my cowardice. I made the choice to leave her, and now I am left with the consequences. Despite her apparent disdain towards me, she refrained from putting up a fight for our relationship. Dawn was my choice, Alana didn't even plead with me. She did not request my presence.
The yearning to be desired consumes me.
I ignited the car engine and made my way to Erik's residence. It appeared that he too had been avoiding me, much like everyone else who seemed to have taken her side without bothering to understand my perspective.The state of my happiness seems to be of little concern to anyone.
As I embarked on the drive, a sense of dread washed over me. The mere thought of encountering Erik filled me with uncertainty and apprehension. Despite my repeated attempts to reach out, he has remained unresponsive to my calls and messages. I understood the reason behind their distress; I had essentially abandoned Lana at the altar. It was my own lack of courage that led to her public embarrassment. As the sun began to rise, Dawn fell to her knees before me and my groomsmen, her desperate pleas ringing in my ears. My heart ached as I gazed upon her, and in that moment, I knew that I could not choose Lana. Without hesitation, I made the decision to take Dawn's hand. I witnessed her valiantly battling for my affection.
I positioned my vehicle along the edge of the curb, stepping out with a pack of cigarettes in hand. Leaning casually against the car's exterior, I patiently awaited Erik's emergence. As the tobacco burned, a fleeting sense of calm washed over me, but it was short-lived as my gaze fell upon Erik emerging from his townhouse.
Erik's countenance upon seeing me appears rather displeased, for he is one who openly displays his emotions. I was acutely aware of his thoughts regarding me. As I departed the church, cradling Dawn in my embrace, I sensed his fist poised to strike me in the face. I made a promise to him that I would return, yet regrettably, I failed to keep my word. Rather than confronting them directly, I opted to convey my rationale through a written letter.
He bore witness to Lana's emotional breakdown.
"What is it that you want, Connor? " With a sneer, he greeted me - no warm salutations or friendly greetings, but rather a voice dripping with disdain and contempt.
"Erik, please come on."
"Lana's intervention has been the sole factor preventing me from taking drastic measures against you."
With a sense of resignation, I flicked the cigarette butt onto the unforgiving asphalt and uttered the words, "Kill me then."
With a venomous tone, he retorted, "You want for me to comply with your request, but Lana's words ring true. You simply aren't worth the effort of becoming agitated over."
"Did Lana really say that I'm not worth it? That's all I can digest from him uttered. "I'm not worth it, Perhaps that's why she moved on so effortlessly," i mused, my thoughts drifting into the realm of uncertainty.
"Everyone saw you flaunting your girlfriend around town, I couldn't help but feel that you embody the most despicable qualities of humanity. It appears that you are undeserving of such a remarkable individual. Choosing you was a mistake on her part."
The question arises:
"whom shall she choose? YOU??"
The inexplicable nature of my utterance perplexes me, considering the longstanding camaraderie shared among us since our adolescent years.
"If she were to want it, then yes, I would be available. I vow to cherish her deeply, shower her with affection, and remain a steadfast presence in her life."
Does he truly love Lana? My mind was consumed by a fiery passion, fiercely guarding the notion that she was mine and mine alone. She belongs to me!
I vehemently oppose his proposition. I shall not yield even if it costs me my life. With a clenched fist, I struck his face with force. With lightning reflexes, he swiftly intercepted the incoming fist and deftly redirected it to the side. Unbelievable. My own friend harboring feelings for my girlfriend.
"Connor, she is no longer yours to claim. You may recall that you discarded her. You opted for a piece of glass, enticed by its dazzling allure that outshone even the most precious of gems. Alas, this decision proved to be your undoing, causing you to forfeit the affections of a remarkable woman who selflessly prioritized your desires above her own. Did you ever take note that despite her aversion to Tiramisu cake, she indulged in it solely for your sake? leave, Connor. Leave as you did before. Though I may not have the privilege of claiming her loves, I will remain steadfast in my support for her and the one she chooses to love. I hope she find a partner who would burn the world to the ground for her, for you,man are not that person."
The words pierced through me, leaving a profound impact. I couldn't help but wonder, what had I done to deserve this?She slipped away from me.Truly, I find myself losing everyone around me.As tears welled up and threatened to spill over, my knees gave way beneath me.As I stumbled forward, my body collided with the unforgiving pavement.
XANDER POV
A sensation brushed against my chest, a warmth that tingled on my skin. Its addictive nature beckoned me to savor it for as long as possible, soothing me and easing the discomfort that had been plaguing me. As the wound seared through my flesh, a numbing sensation overtook my leg.
Wait a moment.
With a jolt, I opened my eyes and reached for her wrist, studying her features intently. With her head lowered, I could feel the sweet aroma of vanilla emanating from her hair, so close that I could almost inhale it. As our gazes locked, the large, circular orbs before me dilated in surprise. As I observed her countenance, a subtle pallor overtook the once rosy hue of her cheeks. It was at that moment that I became acutely aware of the force with which I had been grasping her wrist, prompting me to promptly release my grip.
Rubbing her wrist, she kept her unwavering gaze fixed on me. She retraced her steps to retrieve what appeared to be a meal from the tray, along with a glass of water.
I cleared my throat and directed my gaze towards the wound on my thigh. Upon inspection, I couldn't help but marvel at the impeccable job she had done. The suture was a testament to her exceptional skills, and I felt a sense of relief knowing that my life and limb were in capable hands.
Dorothy.
With a gentle touch, she carefully positioned the plate of food on the nightstand beside the bed. The sensation of damp sheets clung to my skin, a telltale sign that I had perspired throughout the night.
With a stern tone, she instructed me to consume my meal and medication before retreating to the accent chair situated opposite the bed where I rested.
Expressing gratitude.
"Are you a nurse or a doctor?"
I inquired with great curiosity about her ability to tend to my gunshot wound without the aid of proper medical equipment, yet still successfully mitigating the infection and alleviating my fever. Should she possess the necessary qualifications, I would be pleased to engage her services as my personal medical attendant.
As I posed my inquiries, her gaze remained fixed on the screen of her phone, her fingers deftly navigating its surface. However, as I continued to press for answers, her countenance betrayed a momentary pause, a fleeting uncertainty that flitted across her features before she sprang into action.
"I'm not," she replied with a cough, "I'm a seamstress.
Is the individual in question a seamstress? Upon scrutinizing the sutures, it became apparent that this was the reason for the improved appearance of the stitches.
The question arises as to how a seamstress could possibly afford such a luxurious suite. Please don't take offense, but this particular suite has a value of $35,000. In that moment, the memory of Rio and the assumptions surrounding her role as a mistress flooded my mind. Aah…I refrain from passing judgment as it is her chosen means of livelihood. Her beauty is undeniable. As someone who has had the pleasure of encountering numerous women, I can confidently say that she ranks among the top three.
I savored every last morsel of sustenance in a hushed manner, while she proceeded to resume her digital correspondence. In dire need of medical attention, I implored her to reach out to Lou or Rio at the earliest. My health demanded immediate attention, and I required a fresh supply of antibiotics to combat the ailment.
"Have we arrived at Hoyos?"
She repeatedly taps on her phone, often disregarding my presence. This treatment is unfamiliar to me and stirs up feelings of frustration. She stood up gracefully and made her way towards me, extending her arm to offer me the phone, which displayed a series of numbers on its screen.
The individual inquired, seeking clarification on the object in question. As I gazed upon the numerical figures, my eyes fixated on the grand sum of $40,000 that had been meticulously tallied.
"Reimbursement!"
She returned to the accent chair, summoning her meager strength to inch it closer to the bed. The piercing noise emanating from the accent chair as it scraped against the floor was causing a painful sensation in my ears. As she settled into her seat, she elegantly crossed her legs and swiftly snatched the phone from my grasp.
"What is the purpose of the reimbursement?"
A furrow formed on her brow, as though my words had caused offense.
"Mister, I wish you to take a moment and observe your surroundings. As you entered the room, your bleeding form left a trail of crimson on the sheets. Yet, your gaze seemed to be fixated on the rugs. The bed is now tainted with blood, and regrettably, you had slept on it. As a result, I have been unable to rest since the previous night, and my long-awaited vacation has been utterly spoiled. The amount being offered is intended to cover both the physical damages incurred within this space, as well as to provide recompense for the emotional distress I have experienced. I won't even charge you for the therapy bill. Consider it a gesture of generosity on my part."
I remained silent, my thoughts hidden behind a veil of contemplation.
The notion had not occurred to me. Regrettably, I find myself without the necessary funds to compensate her. Being at Hoyos, it follows that we should have signal.
I inquired of her,
"Can i use your cellphone?"
She reached into her bag and produced a sleek, flip phone, which she then handed to me.
"You can have this phone, and for the cost of $200 in addition to the $40,000, I offer my personal mobile device designed for travel. It operates on a credit-based system, rather than a billing cycle, for your convenience." she smiled.
As I dialed Lou's phone number, her gaze remained fixed upon me.
The phone emitted a few brief rings before the call was finally connected.
"Lou…"
"BOSS!!!!! Where could you be?"
The line was filled with his palpable anxiousness.
"Where are you?"
"Until this moment, our search for you had extended over the vast expanse of water. Regrettably, Rio has been admitted to the hospital, prompting my arrival at the north wing suite to ensure that we depart it in the same condition as we found it. As Willy is escorted to the base, I inquire as to your whereabouts, dear boss. Let me get you!"
"I am at the southern wing suite. Please do knock the door precisely five times, as this will serve as a signal of your arrival."
"Please ensure to bring along my gold card, and arrange for a clean-up crew to be present. Has Tyson arrived?"
"He arrived this morning, and I ensured that the Captain was informed to clear the helipad. The compensation provided was sufficient to persuade him to overlook the matter. "
"Very well. Bring me a fresh clothes"
As I addressed Lou, she feigned ignorance of my words. I examined my wound once more, struck by the thought that the person tending to me possessed a remarkable aptitude for the medical profession, should they ever choose to pursue it.
With a swift motion, the phone was deftly slipped into the pocket. As I reluctantly handed over the sum of 200 dollars, her expression betrayed a sense of confusion.
I am familiar with that inquisitive gaze, pondering over my profession and the reason behind my ability to summon individuals at my whim.
"Perhaps you are curious as to my current occupation?"
"No…I couldn't help but notice that one of your eyes appears to be slightly smaller than the other.?"
Xavier: (*...')
Xavier paused, lost in thought.
SHIT! All of a sudden, a sense of self-awareness has washed over me, and I can't help but notice the asymmetry of my face. This observation was confirmed by a renowned plastic surgeon. What reason do I have to heed the words of a mistress?
"As I observed your hair, I couldn't help but notice its shorter length, which may be considered atypical for a woman."
However, I must reflect on why I am feeling inclined to make such a comment, as it may be perceived as trivial or insignificant.
"My eyes, fortunately, are symmetrical. While hair has the ability to grow and change, the eyes remain a fixed feature, unable to self-correct any imbalances." she said.
"I shall depart from this place and provide you with the necessary funds. You may regard my actions as a form of reciprocation for sparing my life. Thus, we are now at an equitable state. Should you dare to utter a word about this affair to anyone, rest assured that I will track you down, Dorothy Wyatt!"
Although I assured myself that I would never harm my savior, I felt compelled to assert my dominance by issuing a threat. The door echoed with a series of five resounding knocks.
As she made her way towards the door, she inquired, "Is that person your friend?" As soon as I gave a nod, she proceeded to unlatch the door, her gaze shifting briefly towards Lou before returning to me.
"He is your friend?"
bình luận đoạn văn
Tính năng bình luận đoạn văn hiện đã có trên Web! Di chuyển chuột qua bất kỳ đoạn nào và nhấp vào biểu tượng để thêm nhận xét của bạn.
Ngoài ra, bạn luôn có thể tắt / bật nó trong Cài đặt.
ĐÃ NHẬN ĐƯỢC