The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

53

A steady ache burned inside me. Thumping against my heart. Pounding against the walls of my skull. The little voice kept muttering. Do it. Do it, Giovanni. Do it.

I couldn't. I backed away like a pathetic looser. I couldn't. One look at her eyes and I backed away. Would she ever accept? Would she ever agree? Even if I can peruse my head that she will agree another question pops out. Why ever would she?

Ariel and I begun at the most wrong side of a relationship ever could. How would she ever accept me for the long run? Would she ever? It bothered me. Not knowing bothered me more than I would like to admit. As much as last night I wanted have this conversation with Ariel after our lascivious actives, I couldn't help but admire the carefree look on her face. Her posture was so relaxed. So calm. I just couldn't bring myself to push her into a matter that required enough deep thinking.

I just didn't want her to think. Afraid what the end answer of her might be.

What if it takes it by dread instead of surprise? It would even cut our time shot. It wasn't as if I was second guessing Ariel. I was if anything second guessing myself. Would I ever be able to preserve that smile on her face? Would I be ever be able to give her eternity the way she deserves? It would be a debate.

With a cigarette hanging between my fingers, I stared ahead around the property. Summer was almost over. The mornings were slightly cooler however as the noon rolled around, the sun would shine bright like a burning ball.

Ariel still slept on the bed, curled up against a body pillow.  Her yellow cannery bird toy was subjected to burn from the fire. Having no idea where mama Coralyn had bought the toy from, I opted on a body pillow instead. The one she replaced me with more if not often. While Bubbles slept in the calm silence of our bedroom, it gave enough times to myself to study her lovely features. Her pouty mouth and full cheeks. Her closed eyes. She was lost in her own dream world. I want her real world to be like dream.

I wonder how long would I be fortunate enough to enjoy her? My own version of a twisted fairytale before she realizes that any man would bid their sould to the devil just for one taste of hers. That maybe some bloke other than me would be able to provide her the fairy tale she so ardently dreams of in her sleep and wake. I wonder if she realizes what she is worth of to me? Or any man with a functional libido that lays his eyes on her? I wonder she realizes what her worth is? And that any man wouldn't think twice before bargening with the devil or God or who ever would listen.

It was last night I had to drop my father home for some malfunctioning of his car. The one he refused to replace solely because of being emotionally attached to the vehicle. Given that I didn't understand the depth of his feeling, I didn't push around the subject instead gave him a ride. On the way home, the old man had halted me rather forcefully in front of flower vendor insisting he had to get flowers for the woman of the house.