Mature. Viewer Discretion is advised.
*The people inside of this work are FACE-CLAIMS. This has no correlation to any IRL individual.*
*This is messy plot. Made when I was a teen. Beware.*
The story of a young woman who finds her style, self worth...
"We finally cry. Oh and we don' it. Because it's right. Claire, I was too sore for sight..." ♫ Wash by Bon Iver.
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The saying was right; hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Cherry's dining room felt like Alcatraz.
I was stripped of my clothes so she could see the extent of my injuries, silenced so that she could process, and forced to 'sit down and let her calm down before I got my ass handed to me.' Which meant, I was sitting in my somewhat timeout chair in my boxers, doing exactly what she said.
The room was only lit by a Tobacco & Vanilla scented candle in the middle of the table and a singular light on above the oven in the kitchen; yellow and dim. The house was dead silent, Koi, Kristen and Naomi upstairs and asleep in their beds.
The only audible sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft clink of the wine bottle against Cherry's glass as she poured herself another drink.
Not a word had been spoken in ten minutes, she was just sitting at the head of the table with her legs crossed, drinking her wine and eyeing me with fury. Murder in her pretty brown eyes.
The red silk robe tied in the most useless knot around her waist was more than a distraction because she'd removed her dress, leaving only red lingerie underneath. It would slip once every so often, exposing her collarbones or the apex of her thigh. She let it. Torturing me slowly.
Though, I wasn't going to ruin the moment by opening my mouth and pissing her off even more than I already had. This was the part where she decided what to do with me. With us. This was the part where we talked.
"You can put your clothes back on."
The first word in what felt lime forever had my ears twitching like an attentive dog.
I glanced at my clothes on the table and reached for them. I put on the slut tee and after I pulled it over my head, in one blink, the wine in her glass was gone. I pulled my pants on slowly, eyeing her wrist going for the bottle, "Don't you think you've had enough?"
"There isn't enough wine in the world..." The comment wasn't for me, it was quiet and mumbled. She ignored my half-handed advice and poured one last full glass before the empty bottle was left on the table.
I buckled my belt and left my jacket on the table.
She turned the crystal clear glass in her hand and watched the thick wine jostle before she clicked her tongue once and let her dead eyes fall back on me.
"I think I'm gonna get a boob job."
My mouth fell open slightly and I leaned forward in my chair, "You're doing what?-"
"My tits are pretty small. Not that I hate them or anything, but I think I'd like them a lot more if I went up just a cup size to a C." Her voice was edging toward tipsy as she traced her finger along the neckline of her robe. Thinking out loud, she continued, "I've always wanted to have a bigger chest and I've got the money now. I mean, it wouldn't set me back much."
