𝓞𝓷𝓰𝓸𝓲𝓷𝓰...
❝I want you baby,❞ the deep whisper slipped past my lips, and she closed her eyes when my nose traced the faint pulse against her neck.
Her scent was deliciously sweet: a clean vanilla custard fusion with an opulent, creamy infle...
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☾• 𝐑 𝐀 𝐑 𝐄 𝐒 𝐙 •☽
“Did she get your message?” Izaiah asked while settling down opposite me in my office.
I slowly took a sip of my wine, swirling it slowly and writing something down in my business diary before looking up.
“She did, yeah,” I sighed.
“And?” He probed further.
“She didn't respond, nothing new. I'm starting to think she doesn't even like me.” I said in defeat but he hummed in disagreement.
“Miguel told me that she was asking about you. She wanted to know if you were ever going to visit the restaurant,” he informed me, making me perk up in interest.
“Why doesn't she ask me on text?”
“I thought you'd know by now that she is traditional. I'm sure she feels that asking to go on a date on text really shows you don't give a damn. I'd advise you to go there and ask her in person.” He tapped his fingers against the vitreous surface.
“Izaiah—”
“It's not asking for a lot, man. She just wants to be treated right. All other girls are asked out on text by you. She knows you're a fuckboy, rumoured to have commitment issues, so she doesn't want to be another one of your broken-hearted fuck buddies. I understand where she's coming from, she's aware that she won't know if you're dedicated if she doesn't make you work for it.” Izaiah spoke with so much purpose. “A true playboy will give up on girls that do this, so take it as a compliment. She has faith in you to change.”
He really had a point. He was right; all I ever wanted to do was fuck, nothing more, nothing less.
“I didn't think of it that way,” I exhaled, realising that I was an asshole for wanting her body only.
“Exactly. Don't think of your own needs, think of hers. She wants love, something deeper than lust. If that's not what you want, then stop pursuing her.” He didn't hesitate to tell me the truth, “but I wouldn't advise you to. She's one in a million, and doesn't like you for your money or status. But it's really up to you man, you're not getting any younger.”
“Neither are you,” I cocked a brow with a smirk.
“I know that. I will settle down when I find the one," he leaned over to take my glass of wine, "and my man… you've found the one. Take it or leave it.” He downed the entire thing before getting up.
“Yeah, thanks for the advice.” I leaned back in my chair, typing out her name on my laptop, ready to research the beautiful, melanated girl.
“I'm going out with my sister, she wants to get some lunch, says she had one of the most depressing therapy sessions with a client today.” He informed me while adjusting his suit jacket.
“That's sad, hope you cheer her up.”
“No one talks about the struggle of being a therapist's brother. Man, it's a job and a half,” we both laughed, and after much talking, he finally left.
