September 11th 2006
They all told me to be kind to the Americans today, because of what happened. Father tells me to sit back and keep my mouth shut, and that nobody was to be dealt with today. Anything that could be done today, could surely be done tomorrow. Demetrius told me today that his offer of marriage still stood, as a peace offering to my family, and as a symbol of our everlasting love. I don\\\'t know how to tell him that what we shared was a kiss and an erotic dance at a club, love nor sex wasn\\\'t a part of anything. He knows the physical part was lacking in that instance, but love is often overlooked and simply assumed to be there.
It\\\'s the ABC\\\'s of love my brother tells me, he\\\'s handsome, well supported, and he\\\'d treat me well. The latter is known, simply because his entire family as well as he would be found with their jugular\\\'s splayed if he so much as breathed on me wrongly. Sometimes, the power gets to me, yes it does. I say I want something, and I get it. I say I was bothered by the man delivering the paper, he\\\'s found shot a couple days later.
It used to be amusing to me, really. All the
other girls on the streets stop talking, they rush across the
street to get to their cars, or the bravest ones whisper to
somebody about why they\\\'re all so quiet: "She\\\'s in the
Mafia." Or "Better not make her mad. She might kill you Billy."
It used to be. Now it isn\\\'t. I\\\'ve gotten older, my hips
haven\\\'t changed much, my chest has expanded and I walk with
composure, but other than that, it\\\'s still I. Yet, even with
the passing time, they still whisper.
Now they\\\'re afraid of me, not my family. I\\\'m worse. I don\\\'t care, at all. They\\\'ve heard about the attempts to get with me, and how they all crashed and/or burned in failure. Today the whispers were crude and mean. "Did you hear, another Asiago family member was found dead. She probably did it. What a Daddy\\\'s girl. Shhh, She\\\'s looking." There\\\'s always the one who talks about you like you\\\'re their hero though. "Look how she walks, wish I could do that, don\\\' you Jess? Jess?"
Now that I look back on that diary entry, I think
about how conceited I really was. I used to think I ruled the
world, that I\\\'d never have to do anything. How wrong was I
exactly?: Pretty wrong, I\\\'ll tell you that. I\\\'d read it at
least four times the night before, and I still wondered what I
had been thinking. All around me the steam rises from the bottom
of the shower, the hot water running down the small of my back
before traveling down my thighs, to the floor where it either
slides down the drain, or rises to the ceiling in the form of
steam. Outside the snow was beginning to pile up, and nobody in
the pent house seemed to be noticing except for me.
Really, everybody else was too busy. Mother, with entertaining my Father\\\'s guests, Father with trying to get his way, and all his other minions off doing the "jobs" he wants hem to do. Even through the fogged glass and soap residue I can see the large, fat snowflakes resting on the windowsill.
With my free hand, the one not removing dirt and whatever else might have found it\\\'s way to my skin, I turn the water temperature up to the point where I think my muscles might actually relax, and I can\\\'t hold back a heavy sigh of relief. In this line of business, any sort of relief from the tension and upper back pain is what you\\\'d call a miracle. My long fingers reach for the bar of soap, the seaweed and mint bar from the little metal shelves where I kept my shampoo/conditioner etc. on.
"Wolf yah bitch! Hurry up or all the alcy\\\'s
will 'ave emptied the place." Thin lips curled in a seductive
grin, long limbs almost twitching with anticipation.
"Shut yer mouth Cross, or do you want me to come out there and get you." The voice rose over the walls of the walk in shower, and then fell under the door to the enormous bathroom to her companion. No reply. With another crank of the temperature gauge I rinse my body of the wonderfully smelling soap and matching conditioner. Quickly the water is turned off, and the door to the shower thrown open. Without opening my eyes I could feel the other\\\'s presence in the room. The seductive smile returned, before his hands were on my hips.
"Wolf." His breath, smelling slightly of green mint and narcotics made it\\\'s way to my ear.
"Deme\\\'." I pulled my weapon out, pet names. His large, but tender hands moved upwards to my rib cage before pulling me close.
"I thought we were going clubbing." A chuckle rose to the ceiling, loud and masculine.
"We still are, but the world can wait for it\\\'s queen, don\\\'t you think?" Sweet talking had always been his forte, something I couldn\\\'t resist playing into.
"Queen? Doesn\\\'t a queen need a king dear Deme\\\'?" I finally turned to face him, dark gaze aimed behind him, at one of the three mirrors. The entire room, is a 90 degree mirror, so I can always make sure there isn\\\'t something..Unpleasing about my appearance. Black hair and large, dark eyes look back at me, as well as a 5\\\'9" figure. Weight had never been an issue for me, something I don\\\'t understand. Eat what you enjoy, work it off. Simple. Demetrius brought me back to earth with another shift of movements geared towards the door.
"I am you king." He asserted simply, no bashfulness nor shyness appearing at this fact. He wasn\\\'t the kind to sit back. He was prone to stepping on feet when he shouldn\\\'t, but since when is a little pain bad?
"We don\\\'t have time for sex, we\\\'re meeting my father at the club you arrogant, forgetful loser." His world where sex leads every shower, meal and breath comes falling down around him, his surprise seen in his face and his bodily actions.
"You cannot deprive me of what I seek Wolf." He growls, his voice throaty and lustful.
"Don\\\'t even think about it. You\\\'d be dead in an instant." My own voice growls, just as throaty as his before, danger lurking in every crevice of my mouth, eyes averted away, towards the book shelf. Demetrius lets his arms drop to his sides, his admittance of defeat.
"God Wolf, you know I'd never rape you." He sighs,
before leaning his forehead into his
"You never know." I remind him, before turning back into the bathroom and closing the door. After a moment of thought, I lock the door with a soft a click and grab a hairbrush and begin grooming myself for the night to come.
Almost an hour later, I barely hear Demetrius as he pushes the door open softly with his foot.
"I hate it when you pick the lock." I mutter darkly before applying the finished touches, a thick, dark smokey shade of eyeshadow to my upper lid. Mascara was already added before that so that it could dry. It's not every day I see my father. Yes, he's my father, but I try to steer clear of him, though hard as I try, I always find myself drawn back to him, power hungry drawn to the powerful. Cat and mouse. Whichever you see fit.
"So?" Demetrius sighs heavily, his coarse black hair combed and gelled into place neatly, as usual. His dark eyes can be seen clearly now, one of the only things I find myself attracted to in my husband.
"So? Don't get me started, Cross." I use his street name cooly, and he knows to back off. I slip my wedding ring onto my ring finger as if to tell him this conversation isn't over, but that we don't have time to continue right now.
"I'll go get the car warmed up." He offers, and suddenly turns away, before disappearing through the doorway. His footsteps can be heard all the way through the pent house, his heavy shoes clicking on the wood floors. The crack of the slamming doors makes me wince heavily, almost spreading eyeshadow over my cheek.
"Mother fucker." Atrocities growled, my anger radiating off my such as heat off the sun.