Being A Man
1077 Words
"I am sorry," Florian said, his voice low. "The brothel is the other way."
Damien gave a drunk laugh. "For real? My bad. I thought this was the brothel cause I saw a slut right behind you."
I felt Florian stiffen. "Could you say that again to my hearing?"
My brows furrowed. I was almost sure Florian had heard it. I mean, I did, too, so there was no way he couldn't have heard it.
Damien walked to Florian, his eyes looking up to Florian, who was much taller. "I said, I thought that this was the f*****g brothel, since I can see a stupid slut right behind you."
The words had barely left Damien's lips when Florian landed a deafening slap on his right cheek, forcing him to the floor. I flinched at the sheer force and the sound of the slap, my eyes widening.
Damien was now on the floor, blood trickling from his forehead where he had hit the floor, and the edge of his lips from the slap.
"If you weren't too busy burying your head in so many p*****s instead of focusing on being a man, you could have been able to withstand that."
Damien turned, his eyes wide. "How dare you touch me? You know who my father is?"
"Certainly not the politician, my love, but that is a word you should have with your mother. I see why you think sluts are everywhere, you grew up with one."
Damien's teeth gritted hard, as Florian slowly squatted to his height, one hand dangling elegantly off his thigh, the other gently pinching Damien's chin. It was a disrespectful gesture, and in my drunken state, it made me want to laugh.
"If you don't stay away, I will make sure it isn't only your real father who lives in the slums of Tenessee. I will make sure that politician is ruined to the very last bit, and it will all be your fault."
"Damien!" Ronan suddenly said, and he ran in, pulling Damien away from Florian.
Florian stood up, a small, sickly sweet smile plastered on his lips. "Hi, bestie."
"Stay away from us, Florian."
"Gladly."
Ronan shot a glare at me as he pulled Damien away. Damien was silent, and I wondered if Florian had been serious about his paternity. Florian was never really the type to lie.
My mum and dad were at the top of the stairs, and they were both watching me, their lips turned down in a sneer. I always thought they looked alike. They looked even more alike right now.
Florian came in front of me, blocking my view of them. My eyes came to focus on him as he ran his hands across my face, his eyes taking every bit of me in.
"Do you want to stay here?"
I shook my head. "Take me home."
He immediately nodded, grabbed my purse and my shoes, and then grabbed me too, lifting me into his arms bridal style.
He got the bill on our way out, and thankfully, none of my family were around. He helped me into the car before going around. I leaned back, my eyes blank, my lips parted as I stared off at nothing.
The door closed on the other side, and I turned to Florian, who was dropping my purse and shoes, his eyes calm.
Slowly, I leaned, resting on his lap, my eyes closing. He adjusted me so I would be comfortable and then covered my feet up with my dress. Once he was done, he leaned back, slowly running his fingers over my hair and neck and massaging my scalp lightly.
It felt relaxing, and I sighed, closing my eyes, the constant hum of the moving car and the warmth of his fingers all over me, luring me to sleep.
I woke up to the combination of bright sunlight filtering into the room and the unmistakable smell of roast.
My brows furrowed, and I turned, my chest heaving, my eyes fluttering open. It was morning already, and although the sheets next to me were slightly ruffled, indicating that Florian could have slept in here, it was now empty.
I had a dull ache in my head, and I slowly got out of bed and went straight to the restroom. I took a much needed warm bath and freshened up before grabbing a shirt I found laying on the edge of the bed.
It was only after wearing it that Florian's masculine scent hit me hard, and I turned to the mirror. The shirt was past my thigh, and the first two buttons were still open. I hadn't even realized it had buttons because it was big enough for me to just slip on.
I rolled the sleeves up and walked downstairs, my hands pushing my hair back as I tried to tie it up in a ponytail. I stopped, however, my eyes wide as I saw Florian.
He was right behind the kitchen counter, his hair slicked back in a man bun, his eyes focused on the vegetables he was so meticulously cutting.
I took him in, my hands in my hair, my lips parted, and my legs unable to move. He was shirtless, and the only tattoo he had, the tattoo of my name, was prominent against his skin.
I bit down on my lips, my mind running straight to the slums, entertaining thoughts that can't be discussed in the presence of respectable society.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
I immediately let go of my hair, blinking rapidly. "Uh... I was just..."
"Good morning, Rox."
I swallowed. "Good morning."
"Come have this. Will help with the headache."
I obediently walked to him, taking one of the seats attached to the kitchen island. He handed me a cup of some type of smoothie, and I accepted it, my fingers brushing his.
I immediately moved away, then took a deep breath.
"Thank you."
He nodded as he went back to what he was doing.
"Why are you up so early, cooking?"
"You didn't have dinner," he said, like it was the most natural reason for him to be up so early. "And you didn't have the roast from last night."
I took a sip of the smoothie, and sure enough, it was refreshing. "So?"
He didn't say a word but reached for one of the covered dishes. He opened it, and in there, sitting pretty, was well garnished roast.
- Writer
