smoke and mirror - anonymous

Chapter 13

"Am I annoying?" Dahlias slurred and slightly whiny voice was muffled by the sounds of traffic that surrounded the taxi. She had rested the side of her head against his arm, looking up at him with blurry vision - she must've lost her contacts in the mist of dancing.

Foster locked eyes with hers, a certain expression of yearning glossing over his rich and dark azure eyes. His warm breath slightly tickling the bridge of her nose. "No." He reassured her drunken worries, their closeness causing a wave of tranquility to wash over him.

"Good." Her painted lips curled into a gentle smile, not aware of Fosters gaze. "How come you're still attractive when you're blurry?" She giggled, that familiar sound causing him to mirror her smile.

"Mhm, good question." He chuckled, his heart was beating outside of his chest, and he felt as though it was going to burst.

Dahlia's eyes gradually started to close, her body falling slightly limp as she eventually just fell asleep. Foster sighed at the silence in the vehicle, not noticing the driver shaking his head.

"You going to let her know? When she's sober?" The balding man looked in the mirror, catching Fosters gaze.

Foster's thick brows furrowed, "What do you mean?" He didn't have the energy to question why the man was eavesdropping.

The driver chuckled, shifting in his seat as he turned onto a road. "Tell her that you love her." He pulled up at the warehouse, the headlights flicking off.

Foster pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, how could he love her? He'd only known her for a few days, and maybe it wasn't love and maybe it was just an extremely intense lust.

"Here." He clenched his jaw, his cold and intimidating wall being put back up as he handed the man his money. He opened the door and leaned down as he stared at Dahlia as she slept. He gently reached down and, as softly as he could, picked her up from inside the car. He grimaced as Dahlia stirred slightly.

He fixed his way of holding her to bridal style, her small frame fitting easily in his arms. He looked down through the cars window, "Don't waste your time waiting for the right moment, kid. You'll regret it for the rest of your life." The man said with a saddened tone, almost like he was speaking from his own personal experience, turning on the headlights.

Sighing as he watched the taxi drive down the road, he turned to the building, then looked to Dahlias sleeping body. Walking to the door, he managed to hold her in one of his arms and open the door with the other. Transitioning back to using both his arms, he closed the door behind him with the bottom of his shoe.

Foster quietly walked up the stairs, narrowing his eyes as he saw her makeshift room - he couldn't let her sleep on that pathetic excuse for a bed, especially not if she was going to wake up with a hangover.

He continued up the stairs until he reached his level. Thankfully, he had left his door open. He entered the room and walked over to the bed, gently placing her onto the surface. Dahlia's left hand moved to her jaw as she slept, making him stifle a laugh at her face.

He rubbed the back of his neck as he realised she couldn't sleep in heels or the dress, well, maybe the dress, he wasn't sure. He decided to be respectful and not worry about the dress, only her shoes.

He sat on the side of the bed as his hands placed her feet onto his lap. He undid the small buckle around her ankle, his slender and long fingers struggling a little at the fiddly task.

Eventually, he slid the shoes off her feet and pulled the sheets from under her. Covering her body with the cover, he rubbed his eyes - not being able to tear them from her face.

His chest tightened as he clasped his hands together, staring down at her as he sat beside her body. A longing glimmer varnishing his usually hard expression. The words he had been fishing to find and achingly waiting to speak started to boil to the surface.

"I love you."