Love At First Fight

FIORA “A month earlier” I'm not drunk Yes,I'm a little dizzy and lightheaded but that only because of how suffocating this club is, because if I was really drunk,I won't be able to feel this pain that is eating me from the inside out Maybe if I drink some more i would be able to quench the fire that is threatening to burn me alive and I would be able to forget about “him” The idiot that had just stab my heart with a dozen splinters and broken it into a million pieces My boyfriend or rather my stupid ex, Jonathan had the audacity to cheat on me,look me in the face and tell me I meant nothing to him and that we were just a fling.i caught him in bed with the supposed “love of his life”,a blonde who snarled at me and encouraged Jonathan to kick me out of his house “How dare they?” Moisture gathers in my eyes and I wipe it away with the back of my hand. As soon as I am able to gather myself,I'll get dad to make them both pay Tonight is to clear my head,to forget I sway my hips to t

FIORA The very first time I met Alder he was nothing short of an infuriating asshole.It was my very first gig as a private chef. My big break after resigning from Dad's law firm and deciding that Law was not my passion, cooking was. I was hired by the Asher Williams family to cater for a small get-together they were having in honour of Asher's birthday Unfortunately for me,Asher is Alder's best friend and clumsy little me decided the best person to accidentally spill a drink on was him. He in turn regarded me like a naive little brat and made the entire night miserable for me. Every other person loved my food but of course Alder thought it was mediocre.He complained that my entree was too salty and my dessert too sweet,made me serve him his dish personally which was not my job by the way because the party had waiters and complained that the bouillabaisse—which I so delicately prepared–had hair in it But spilling a drink wasn't the biggest mistake I made,it was thinking he was ju

FIORA Before I can say anything,loud footsteps approach us.My head whips up to stare at the devil still dressed in a grey suit and louboutin shoes. Darkness rolls off his shoulders like smoke crawling into my lungs.His face is a map of bruises and he has a massive black eye “You have a lot of guts to show your face here after what you've done”Eleana hisses as she turns to face Alder “Let me remind you…we're family now, and anything that involves my wife involves me too." “Don’t you dare take another step”Eleana steps in his way but she is no match for his brute strength..he pushes her with little effort and she stumbles backwards but I catch her just in time before she reaches the ground “Motherfucker! how dare you touch her!!”Uncle Ricardo raises his fist to strike Alder “I won't try that if I were you”Alder warns “unless you want to end up like your brother” “You are not going to get away with this,I will make sure you pay for ever even looking in my family's direction,see yo

ALDER I wait a few minutes then follow after her to the room that started it all..The room I forced her to marry me in.. My wife has changed out of her reception dress into a purple satin nightgown and her hair is packed into a ponytail…Her gown is fitted at the bust and free from the waist down..The gown reveals half of her boobs and her nipples pucker against the satin material.Desire and lust builds within me as I run my gaze over her porcelain skin. She goes still upon seeing me,her face turning a deep shade of crimson “What are you doing here?” “I am your husband I have every right to be here”I reply trying to sound unaffected by the erotic sight before me Her throat works up in a swallow as I take slow and measured steps towards her “S..stay back,don't come any closer”she picks up a pillow and attempts to use it as a barrier between us but I yank it out of her hand and fling it across the room “Why should I? Newlyweds are suppose to consummate their marriage on thei

FIORA “Happy posthumous birthday mom” I whisper to the little polaroid picture in front of me as a single teardrop escapes,tracing a path down my cheek.if she were alive,Mom would have been 49 today. I thought I had gotten over mom's death,thought I had buried the grief deep enough to stop it from resurfacing. That's what mom would have wanted.but anytime this day comes around,the sadness returns,wrapping tightly around me like an old,familiar cloak. I cannot help the several thoughts that rush through my head whenever I think of her.The sound of her laughter, the way she held me when I was scared, the warmth of her presence,they all come flooding back,overwhelming me. And with them,the unshakable ache of knowing she’s gone forever. Orange juice has always been my little coping mechanism on days like this.Somehow,it made me feel closer to her..Oranges were mom's favorite fruits,we always had a fresh batch waiting for us every morning before school and it was honestly the high