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 am aware, sure, I am aware. Catastrophically aware." - Sylvia Plath
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Dahlia
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Lucian gently wiped the makeup off my face as I sat on the counter of my bathroom. Alexandre was getting the bath ready. I was cocooned in a blanket.
"What's this on your eyes that refuses to go?"
"Mascara. It's waterproof. You can wipe a bit harder."
He grabbed my chin and wiped it a bit harder. "There it is." He kissed my eyelids. "Let's put you in the bath now, hm?"
I nodded and he took the blanket off me. I shivered. He picked me up and set me down in the bath gently. I set my head on the edge of the bathtub and pocked the bubbles.
"Why are you guys still here?" I asked.
"Aftercare," Alexandre said, and then picked my hand, kissing my palm. "Today was new for you, we just need to make sure you're okay."
"It was nice," I whispered.
He smiled. An actual, full-blown smile. "I'm glad. Was there anything you won't like repeated?"
I thought about it. "No...but don't tear my clothes when I wear something pretty. Some of my clothes are handmade."
"Noted," Lucian said, gently massaging my back. "We'll ask before the scene, okay?"
I nodded.
"You made your clothes?" Alexandre asked.
I shook my head. "Marie's grandma loves me for some reason. She likes to sew me skirts and dresses." I smiled. "She yelled at Dad once."
"Did she?"
I nodded. "He was being mean to me, and she yelled at him and almost hit his head with her cane."
"I am liking her more and more," Lucian said. "What about Marie and Otto, how are they?"
I shrugged. "I love them," I said. "But...I've been pushing them away."
"Why?" Alexandre asked gently. I felt like I could tell them anything.
"Ever since the Evan thing happened, I just feel...discarded. Or, I used to feel that way."
"Not now?" Asked Lucian.
I shook my head. "No," I whispered. "I feel...wanted now."
Lucian kissed me gently. "We always want you, baby."
"We do," Alexandre said. "I don't think I've wanted anyone as much as I want you."
"Why?"
"I don't know," he replied. "You're perfect, Dahlia. You have something I can't get enough of." He gripped the back of my head.
