Unleashing My Boyfriend's Brother Desires

Workshop

I have no idea what kind of merits I have to be served by Alexander himself. After Aaron guides me to the table, Alexander walks around the aisle and sets down three full plates, one for each of us. I am also not so sure what I was going to have to pay back for all of this, and right now, it felt out of place to ask such questions.

So I keep quiet while the two exchange a few friendly comments and sit down at the table. Aaron sits right beside me and Alexander takes the seat across from me and even if I shouldn't, I feel cornered.

Despite how good the food looks, I lose all of my appetite when my eyes meet Alexander's cold and distant ones. His eyes, etched with coldness, bore holes into my soul and nothing else made me comfortable after they met mine directly. It was as if his judgment was harsh and very direct, and I could not shed the shame and guilt that came with his condescending glare.

Or maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe the man was just like that. Aloof and distant with everyone.

Then why was I the only one who actively avoided looking directly at him?

Casually, or as casually as possible, I look away from him, back to Aaron who started to dig right in, leisurely talking about his day at the hospital.

Up until recently, I didn't know either of them too well, but Aaron was easier to decipher than Alexander. And much easier to be around. He had this Golden retriever energy and despite the immense amount of energy he had, being around him felt natural.

"Do you think you'll be ready for your exhibit in time?" Aaron's attention turns towards me almost completely and my heart skips a beat when I realize he was talking to me all along, disregarding our audience.

On a silly impulse, my eyes switch to Alexander, part of me expecting for Max to be there instead of him, waiting to be given the permission to give off details about personal matters. But Max was not here. It was Alexander, who looked at me with the same cold and distant expression that made me feel improper and out of place.

I suck in a sharp breath and let out a nervous giggle, looking right back at Aaron, hoping it wasn't that obvious I was struggling.

"I-" I start, but gladly I am immediately interrupted by Aaron's emergency pager.

The man jumps up and I feel my heart flutter as his eyes narrow lightly, and he seems to grow alarmed for a brief second. His eyes meet mine and for a mere moment, he seems to almost ponder if he should go or not. I am not given the chance to say anything, as he looks at Alexander and they exchange a silent nod before Aaron excuses himself and rushes out of the kitchen.

I feel dumb. I feel left out and even more so, as I am left alone with my ex-fiance's brother.

I decide against starting a conversation and I slowly get up, avoiding looking directly at him.

"Thank you for the meal." I hum, trying not to sound too fidgety.

"You haven't taken a single bite," Alexander comments, voice low, slightly amused and filled with a mocking tune, and I can feel the way my stomach shrinks with even less appetite than before at the sound of his voice.

"Yeah... I guess I'm not that hungry after all.." I mutter and just as I do, my stomach churns over and lets out a loud growl of hunger.

Alexander says nothing and I take the opportunity to step away and rush back into my workshop.

*** Alexander's POV ***

I watch as she adds distance between us, until she is out of the room and her footsteps dim through the hallway. Silence sinks into the whole house and I don't exactly know what to make of this interaction.

Selena was always a little hard to interact with, but I have never cared enough to put any thought into our brief interactions. Especially after I made it clear I was not very fond of her.

But now, as she departs so suddenly, I can't help but feel guilty. But I can't exactly find a reason for my guilt.

I sip from my glass of whiskey and stare blankly at her empty seat, losing myself to my thoughts.

Talia...

Why did I not like Selena?

I miss you, Talia...

Why could I not find the will to open a conversation with Selena?

I wish you were here... you'd have liked her, of that I am certain. And you'd have scolded me for not paying attention to the crimes of my brother...

A ghost of a smile crosses my lips as I sip once more from the sharp tasting liquor and my eyes close.

I guess, the reason why I never was too fond of Selena was because of her softness. She was frail looking. Her warm eyes and long hair betrayed how easy she was to break. While my Talia was a strong woman, with sturdy shoulders and fierce eyes. My Talia had a smart mouth and she always had something to say. Anyone would know when she was displeased, while Selena was... different.

Talia fended for herself, while Selena bowed her head and allowed every sword to cut it...

A sigh escapes me and I find myself surprised at the little realization.

I despised her softness and the urge she awoke in me to protect. To shield. To care for.

I am more than certain that I'd never hear the end of it from Talia if I'd have ever told her about my ideology. I am more than certain I'd have had to sleep in a different bedroom for weeks if I had ever confessed the real reason why I never liked the women my brother dated. Or why I have never liked my mother...

As my thoughts drift to the woman I called my mother, I grow uncomfortable and I become painfully aware I was all alone with my thoughts.

*** Selena's POV ***

I sit down in front of the easel again, staring at the prepped canvas, but not really ready to do anything with it. A soft sob escapes em and before I know it, I feel tears run down my cheeks. My vision clouds and my heart feels extremely heavy. I lean forward and press my elbows into my knees, while hiding my face into my hands.

I don't even know why, but I feel exhausted.

I miss Max from the bottom of my heart. It did not matter if he was the way he was. It was comfortable. I knew exactly what to expect of him. I knew exactly what kind of interactions I'd have with him, what kind of things we did together. There was rarely anything different happening and even if it was abusive, it was comfortable, and it was something I knew.... unlike everything that was happening right now.

Only God and I knew how many times I wanted to text him back...

I hear the door of the workshop open and I freeze. I immediately suck in a sharp breath and straighten myself, before I look up and see none other but Alexander.

His expression is unreadable, but I am more than certain he was uncomfortable to see me crying again. But to my surprise, he didn't walk away. Instead, he approaches and he offers me a plate. He doesn't say a word, but I still take it as an order.

/Eat./

I take the plate from him and stare blankly at the sandwich he had readied for me.

For a few seconds, he watches me as I take a bite before he shifts his attention around us.

I feel self concious and I wish I would have cleaned up the place.

The handful of plants I had around the workshop haven't been watered in days, there was a finger thick layer of dust laying on old projects I never got around to finishing. Even the ones I had picked for my exhibit were lying on the floor, waiting to be varnished.

As I swallow the food alongside unshod tears, Alexander starts walking around the maze of canvases and I feel my skin turn to goosebumps. I wish I could chase him out before he saw too much, but...

The man stops in front of one of the few finished pieces and I choke on my sandwich.

The tips of my ears redden, and I start coughing, while his head c***s to the side, admiring the painting. Or well, staring at it as if he had found the most outrageous thing in the house.