𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑

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Prisoner - The Weeknd, Lana Del Rey

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Prisoner - The Weeknd, Lana Del Rey

I don't think I've ever felt more anxious in my life, than now. Actually, that's a lie. I'm being dramatic.

Alessio's taking me out on a date. An actual date. I hate how butterflies erupted throughout my whole body when I was woken up with roses and a note saying 'you're going on a date with me.'

Most guys would ask, but he demanded it. I'm not sure what to feel at this moment, all I know is that I'm standing in front of the restaurant that I'm pretty sure Alessio booked out the whole thing just for us, wearing a dress he bought for me, and heels that might break my feet.

Not to mention, the dress he bought for me, smells exactly like him. I wouldn't be surprised if he were to spray his cologne on my dress. Maybe he did.

This dinner—date—is going to be one of the most awkward things ever. I can already tell. I'm one of the most talkative people ever, but when I'm talking to him it's like I lost every ability to speak.

I blame it on his unwelcoming aura. That's it. Nothing else.

I make my way inside, shaking off my nerves. I'll just make small talk, shove the food down my throat, put up a fake smile, and possibly run away.

Alessio's sitting there in his Armani suit, looking prim and proper. His hair disheveled, as his left hand is busy fidgeting with his wedding ring as his thumb runs it up and down his finger, his right hand is occupied with his phone.

Walking towards him, I know that he can hear my heels clicking as he puts his phone down and stands up, facing in my direction.

"You came." He says, while his eyes scan over my body, glimmering with amazement.

"You kind of threatened me to come." I respond, walking over to the seat facing across from Alessio, but he beats me to it. He opens the chair, inviting me to sit. He might fool everyone by portraying himself to be a 'gentleman' but I know, he's anything but that.

"Semantics. You still came, I'll take that as a win." He smirks, as I sit in my seat. His hand brushes against my back, as he makes his way over to his seat.

I refuse to be a part of his charm, that he so foolishly charms everyone with. He may be pretty, but there's something so conniving about his insides. It's a portal that if you enter, you can't leave. Yet, I still can't get myself to leave.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." Alessio's voice deepens, sending chills down my spine.

I nod my head, signalling for him to continue.

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