Dahlia Wellburg hates her misery as much as she loves it. She sees herself as a stone: ordinary and unwanted. Yet, they know her to be a rose: soft, but with thorns.
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Mature Content. Check the tags.
"I hold the shield and I wield the sword. There is no battle. There is no war."
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Dahlia
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There were not many surprises that I was expecting from my evening. I was to just have a few drinks with Marie, have Otto drop us off at my apartment, and fall asleep watching some old sitcom.
Having Elliot sit beside me and order a drink had not been on the list of possibilities or expectations.
"Hello, Dahlia."
"Hi," was all I could muster. Otto and Marie stared like idiots. I glared at them. They flinched back and started a conversation about something I couldn't concentrate on.
"Happy birthday," He said, looking down at me. He was beautiful up close. He had been beautiful far away, too. But now I could see the intensity on his face. The intensity of...him. There was something so incredibly dangerous about the way he carried himself. Like he was containing himself. But, he seemed a bit different than how he had seemed at the bookstore. I couldn't put my finger on what seemed different.
"Thank you, Elliot."
He cocked his head. I wished he would look away from me for a moment, or at least freaking blink. "How do you know my name?"
"My sister mentioned it."
"Anything else she said about me?"
"Just that you are her date today." I paused. "What are you doing here, then?"
He smiled. "You know why I said yes to going to her party?"
"...No?"
"I was told it was yours, too. I was unable to find you, of course. One of her friends told me this is your favorite bar."
"I'm assuming Emilia wasn't happy with that."
"There are not many people whose happiness I am concerned with," He said bluntly and I believed him. He didn't seem to be a guy who'd cradle your heart. He'd probably crush it. "Besides, I prefer bars to noisy parties."
I nodded wordless. He wanted to see me? That was why he went to the party? That warmed my heart for a moment, but then I stopped myself. He still may have slept with my sister, and I couldn't do anything with him if that was the case. That'd be gross, no matter how hot he was.
We drank in silence, but the air between us sizzled with something I didn't know. But, that was probably just me being horny. It had been too long since I did anything, and longer since anyone did anything right to me. I no longer had the energy to fake anything.
"Did you like the journals?" I blurted. Otto flinched at the unexpected question. Maria avoided my eyes, laughing into her hand.
Elliot, however, just looked amused. "Of course," he said. "They looked handmade."
