~Cali~
The anticipation is killing me.
My chest feels so full, as if the air I’m breathing thickened I’m finding it hard to inhale. The throbbing of my heart is louder than the wheezing breeze from Carlisle Bay. My clammy palms rest on Gio’s chest, clutching tightly on his dress shirt as I wait for his declaration.
His honey eyes regarded me in a tender gaze before he spoke, “Giovanni is my middle name-“ The ringing of his phone cut him off. Gio’s eyes fluttered close, a groan leaving his lips.
“It’s given to me by my biological-“ the annoying phone rang again. This time, he couldn’t just ignore it. His brows knitted together after taking it out of his pocket, and I took it as a sign to give him some privacy.
“Answer it.
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~Cali~ There are moments since that day when I question my actions. I should’ve stayed and asked him what the call was about, or at least gave him the night and waited for him to tell me about it himself. I regret leaving like that, like a runaway princess that I already am. Every time there’s a new article about him, about his company, I can’t stop looking because I am curious if it’ll have an announcement about his marriage. But I read nothing about it. Even about that child. I want to ask him now, but what face do I have? None. I chicken out, so I settled on moving forward with m
~Cali~ ‘When will you stop running away, Princess?’ My slippers’ silent taps echoing as I follow a hazy, invisible catwalk while I keep chewing on my lip. It’s midnight and all I could do is stare at his face - painting of his face. I couldn’t sleep. I’m wide awake as an owl, a bloody battle taking place in my thoughts. He’s staring back at me, honey eyes watching while I’m suffering in my own impulsive actions. All he does is smile, that annoying sexy smirk of his that I can’t push out of my head. No matter how much time I put into hating that gorgeous face, I just can’t. I’m going mad. He must’ve seen me earlier. “Why?” I asked out loud, not knowing what I really meant wit
~Cali~ My heart hummed at the sweet melody of his voice. He’s here, right behind me. I can sense it, the intensity of his gaze burning holes in the back of my head. “Fuck off, Carter,” honestly, I couldn’t care less about what Dixon is saying, or about my computer that will probably need a hard disk saving by now. I don’t want to be here, but I want to be here. I’m going mad. My heart is going crazy. It wants to come out of my body and jump to the owner of that voice. However, my feet have other plans. My hands clutched the lining of my coat, shivers drowning me. It was instinct that had my feet moving away from him, not wanting
~Cali~ Days went on after that brief encounter I had with him. He left me confused, wondering what the hell his problem was. I waited for his email, or for any gift from him - anything - but none came. It’s like he never existed in my life again. Maybe he’s still mad about his pained nuts. Or he realized how much of a lame lay I am, how hard it is to understand me. I don’t even understand myself; how can I expect him to understand me? I hate feeling like this. ~~ It’s almost time for me to get ready for the first launch of Ren’s label. Yet here I am, with a hazy mind from hanging upside down from my bed. The blood rushing in the wrong way is not good for my brain cells. His
~Evan~ I’ve been watching her all night since she arrived with her father. Such a beauty she is. I willed myself not to drink tonight, needing my head to be clear of alcohol influence when I talk to her - try to talk to her. The little black dress she has on further enhanced her creamy skin. She showed enough skin on her chest, back and legs for every man’s mouth in this function hall to water with the sight of her. My hands balled on my side, needing to wipe their lustful glare at my Princess. Devin’s words are turning into an unbreakable prophecy. Now that I learned who she is, how perfect her life compared to my shitty one - how perfect she is - made me want her more. I’m not worthy of her, I know this, but I need her in my life, but am I willing to ask her to fight for me?
~Cali~ Cold night loomed over Manhattan. Everyone headed home for the weekend, and I’m still in the office, working overtime again. I sighed, deciding to call it a day, holding my bag in one hand and my phone with the other, stepping inside the lift. I was still answering a few important emails while returning the greetings of the few night shift employees on the way to the basement parking. I yelped when a quick hand snatched my phone and bag. “What the-“ a hand covered my mouth. I stumbled back up to the car behind me, and blazing honey brown eyes met my widened green ones. I dreaded the day I would see him again. He invaded my dreams, my paintings, and my mind, but seeing him in person has proven to be another kind of reality. An unnerving kind.
~Cali~ A sour laugh left my mouth as I mumbled, “why? Why did I leave?” I shook my head, taking another bottle of the beer set on top of the counter. I down some more alcohol to ease my parched pipes. “Why wouldn’t I? You lied to me-“ He shook his head, regarding me with emotions I can’t point out. Disappointment? Pain? “Don’t stare at me like that.” I tilted the bottle in my lips. “I asked you if you were in a relationship-“ “That’s not what I’m asking, Princess.” He’s as calm as a windless summer day - the opposite of me, a hailstorm mess. “Why did you leave without asking me?” “Ask you what?” my voice rising as I continued, “ask you who Shannon is? If she’s pregnant with your child?”
~Cali~ Words aren’t enough to say how sorry I am, how much I regret my decision. His eyes, so beautiful even in his sadness, lips quivering as I stare at him, offering myself for a dreaded punishment. “Evan,” I repeated. His beguiling name should be a sin for me to even dare utter. I’m not worthy of this man, “forgive me.” He hauled me, our lips colliding roughly, making me wince in pain. A kiss of hellfire, filled with so much anger and passion... desire. His kiss is mad and needy, and I understand why. Evan’s hands came around my nape, threading through my shoulder length hair. Pulling and fisting, the same rough gesture that I’m doing with his locks.