As long as they were looking at my body, they’d never see what was behind my eyes.
Nevertheless, the first place he looked was straight into my eyes.
Heartless. Invasive. Blue.
"her soft, vanilla scent, the impression her hands leave on me for days, her ridiculous clothes, her husky laugh that lights up my body."
gianna allister by insaneption .✦ ݁˖
She was scared of her papà. It sent a rush of anger through me.
“Voy kak volk, malyshka.” Howl like a wolf. Her soft eyes flicked to me. They burned a small hole in my chest.
“Voy kak volk,” she whispered.
She’d said it right.
And I suddenly knew I was going to keep her.
I sat on the sink in front of him, placing my legs on either side of his. I leaned back on my hands, just looking at him and the steady strokes of the razor.
A corner of his lips lifted. That was when I realized I loved to watch him shave.
Her hair was in my face and it smelled like vanilla. All of it was sensory overload. Like an injection of dopamine. My heart beat heavily. The blood rushed through my veins so fast my hand felt unsteady.
I’d always set Gianna on an unreachable shelf, and not even because she was married to Antonio but because there was something genuine and astute about her. She’d see me for what I was really was. Dirty. Stained. She’d see everything I’d tried to obliterate about my childhood.
My eyes fluttered when I was suddenly lifted from the floor, but I didn’t have the strength to keep them open.
“My dress is heavy,” I complained.
“Ah, so, it’s the dress, huh?”
That made me smile. “You’re rude.”
“You’re young,” he told me.
“I don’t feel it.”
“You look it.”
I took the tumbler from his hand and stole a sip. The vodka in his glass always tasted better than any other.
He took his glass back.
Tonight, he drank straight from where my pink lipstick left a mark. It sent a strange rush of heat to my stomach.