07||



|Her ocean and his storm|

The man with grey eyes never thought that Ebony itself would walk in on him when he was at his not-so-perfect moment. At first, when Leona galloped into the washroom, Tayson was stupefied to look at the diva who disappeared five years ago, right before the finals of the beauty pageant.

"You don't know what my treasured employees and I went through to track you," He confessed, delight crystal in his voice.

The rumours were scattered that she was disqualified, and an enormous scandal broke. But no one knew where the beauty queen flew or why she took off. It was strange that the scandal soon perished, and so did she. Some people even alleged that Leona Pierce is dead while her family offered no comments.

They acted as if they never had a daughter.

When Tayson raced his mind over the picture he received just in the morning and the appearance of Leona, then he was sure it's her. Not to mention, he practically heard her scream that she's a lioness and The Ebony.

"Stop the car," her gravelly, calm, and yet explosive-like voice ordered.

"My apologies sweetheart, but we have a business to discuss."

Tayson shifted the gear to increase the speed of the vehicle, and taking a sharp right turn, he hustled the car onto the boulevard.

"I said stop the damn car," she furthermore demanded.

"Let's talk. I have a proposal for you," Tayson confided, eyes secured on the street that was sensually making out with faded sprinkle.

"You are going to stop or not?"

You are kidnapping her idiot!

I will make it up to her later, he convinced himself. Tayson clicked his tongue at the roof of his mouth. "Nah."

"Cool," The winter hair beauty spoke. The next moment Tayson's ears cracked and every cell in his body jostled at her high pitch raw scream that granulated his calm soul.

"Don't scream!" he exclaimed, patting himself as he loomed the car near a barren cliff.

Leona intensified her roar, not bothering about any fucking thing in the world. Tayson's teeth and ears ached at the severity of her strong voice and he sharply shot the break.

The car ceased abruptly causing them to jerk forward at the impact.

Leona put an end to the torture to his ear and didn't undermine a second to yank the door open and descent of the car. Tayson too hastily unbuckled and clambered off, glad that the clouds settle down. He watched the girl wildly shuffling away.

"Winners are self-made, and so are losers," He declared, voice reflecting in the cool atmosphere that restricted the fierce woman to halt in her tracks.

Tayson internally squealed that his attempt striked right and proceeded, "When you wrote it on your painting, were you talking about yourself?"

Leona twisted to spare a glance at the overconfident man, her skin crawl at his remark and the stupid smirk hooding his handsome face that she so sought to burn.

She let out a sneer. "You are the one loser here who's following me around. Boy, go home and watch nickelodeon. Your mom must be worried."

As much sass, she hurled at him, beyond that she was volatile and strain. Her cover was blown off by none other than Tayson Huxley who worked for her opponent company.

She again turned around to whisk away and leave the damn country as soon as she could.

"Leona," his dark silk voice sounded way too original than his playful one. It seeped deep into her body. The tone overpowered her steadfast mind with an amount of tension and passion that rendered her look at him. When she did, the sexy bastard snapped a picture.

"Woah, you look so fuckable in this," he murmured, tongue running over his lower lip. "Just think, when the news with the headline The goddess that evaporated without a word is suddenly back, leaks throughout the US. Can you imagine the turmoil? The drama? And the flock of media that will shatter anything to track you down."

Leona's heart reverberated with the notion. The phoenix rising from ash, the timeless wounds she bore into the shameful, grim, and pathetic grave would be anew afore her. The pondering alone swayed her to the nucleus of her body.

"Now, can we talk about you being The Ebony? And don't even deny it. I am speaking with the support of evidence," Tayson smirked at her, knowing the puck was in his grasp.

Thistles of terror percolate on her skin, making her want to slaughter the man in front of her or push him off the cliff they were standing on. No one would find she did it right?

Before outrage could take over her, Leona tenderly held her forehead with her fingertips and closed her eyes.

"Calm down baby, calm down. Let's not kill him," she cooed the devil prevailing inside her and composed herself. Her turquoise gaze is affixed to the frowning man. "What you want?"

"For starters, you." He spoke, looking dead in her eyes and she loathed his nerve. Not a soul could possess the audacity to look into her eyes.

Leona's bitch face didn't scrunch. "I don't have time for your bullshit. If I walk away now, you will regret your fucking existence, Tayson Huxley. So speak your price."

Tayson arched his right eyebrow and chuckled, driving his fingers through his messy blonde waves and leaning against the car hood. "So you know me, huh?" The arrogance and manly ego glinting in his eyes smoothly transited in his voice.

"Unfortunately, the world likes to revolve around the bastards and assholes," Leona shot back, referring to the myriad articles, fashion magazines crammed with his face, and literally every bus running on the LA street consist of his tantalizing smirks.

"You look sexy and not intimidating while cursing." Tayson wiggled his head, clearly finding this scene entertaining, unlike the disturbed girl.

Leona gritted her teeth, nails digging in her palms as she vehemently ambled towards him. "You are messing with the wrong person, Huxley."

She didn't grant him a chance to hark back and grabbed the clammy fabric of his ivory shirt, yanking his face close to her. Her other hand snagged his phone from his hand.

The man who never felt nervous in the facade of any woman except for one; was now dealing with disquiet.

Fuck, he internally mumbled.

She was so close to him that he could count her impossibly long damp eyelashes and inhale the scent of bitter coffee meshed with smoke. Her glassy skin glistened with Akoya beads. He swallowed thickly as his greyish gaze trailed from her delicate nose to her glossy plush lips. A sudden wave of desire itch his skin, but he balled his hands in fists sticking them solidly on the polished hood of the car.

No wonder she almost won the beauty pageant, he thought, attentively staring at the enchantress.

The winter hair beauty raised her spell-bounding eyes and Tayson's heart uncannily started dancing. His subconscious mind ridicule the womanizer he was.

Leona grievously shoved the phone into his chest. "Now, let's part ways."

The clouds of bewitched hooding him withered when her treacherous grip on his collar slacken, and the fabric of her leather gloves brushed against his warm skin.

"Not so soon, sweetheart," he rasped. Before she could move away, Tayson cupped the sides of her waist and flipped them over.

A gasp of surprise eluded from her parted lips when she discerned that the tables were turned and she was the one imprisoned between his hard chest and the car. The warmth of his body and her cold aura violently collided and so did her blazing gaze and his stormy eyes.

"I am honestly a gentleman. Nevertheless, you blurred the line first," he whispered in a demanding tone, hands napping on the curve of her lower back tightened and another breathless gasp echoed in his ears when he firmly pressed his body against her. "Work with me, Leona Pierce."

Leona slightly squinted her eyes and jeered. "I don't want to."

"It wasn't a request. Work with me. In my company, as my artist."

Leona rolled her eyes at his audacity. "In your dreams, Tayson. In your dream."

With that, she pushed him off her and wandered over to the side of the passenger seat.

Tayson eagerly stared at her bending frame, and that puckered her ass out which offered him a delicious vista to sight on. Leona retrieved her hand back from the window of his car and exhibited a cluster of keys jingling as she twirled them.

Tayson arched his brows. "That's not something you should touch."

"I like forbidden stuff." A playful melded hellish smile blazed on her face and the winter hair beauty swung her hand, tossing his car keys straight down the cliff.

"What the-" the casanova blankly gawked, blinking twice then thrice while Leona walked past him.

Tayson swivelled around, looking at her departing figure, and rolled his tongue in his cheek. A spirited smile coalesced with his lips and he cooly stooped against the car.

"Your ass is damn sexy, Leona Pierce," he yelled behind her, grinning like crazy.

Leona heaved her middle finger up, not even looking back once and Tayson nibbed on his lip to muzzle his laugh, seeing the girl perishing from his vision. He let her leave cause at least he knew, he found that artist his company was crazy about.

He went through his phone, letting out a soul-wrenching sigh, gurgled, "She deleted the whole fucking album instead of her single picture."

Tayson instantly rang his manager who received the call on the first ring.

"Where are you?! You disappeared from the bar! There's an extensive appointment dear boss. Can you get your booty here?" Wes's snagged, tone weaved in sarcasm which Tayson didn't mind. He was already used to his manager's constant badgering.

"Shut up, and check your phone. I sent you a picture and I swear to my dick if you look at it, I will shave your head bald and make you dance in stripper's bar," He warned in a severe tone. "Just keep the picture with you and come pick me up."

"Didn't you take your car?"

"My keys were savagely murdered. Just get to Asterin cliff before the clouds start moaning." He scrunched his nose, feeling a bit sad about the keys.

"Will be there. Do me a favour and don't screw around till I get pick you up."

"I will try, no promises," Tayson disconnected, dropping his phone in the car, and his gaze tied up on something oh so precious that he bounced on his feet like five years old, and did a little dance.

.

.

.

Leona twined her wrist smoothly, chiselling messy raps of black on the sketchpad and wholly dismissing the pair of pissed eyes at her.

"Eyes down if you want to keep them," she said, not taking her eyes off of yet another chef-d'oeuvre in her mind.

Ryan puffed at her I-don't-give-a-fuck-even-if-you-are-dying mood and thwarted the car near the VVIP section of the airport.

"Just tell me if you did something illegal, so I can take care of it before we leave," He asserted, gazing at her side profile.

"I didn't do anything yet, but I might do it now and my target will be your ass."

Ryan grunted, knowing she won't tell him whatever she did, and climbed off the car. "Give me your passport. I will check-in, and don't move from here."

Leona gestured at the backseat, Ryan took a look and a profound frown creased his forehead. "Where's your purse?"

Leona's hand glaciate so did every nerve in her body. She clicked her head at the back seat and peep near her legs and then it finally dawned on her.

"Tayson Fucking Huxley!"

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

I might have mentioned this before that I really suck at author notes.

So.... I will let my characters speak.

Leona: (stares at you all) Better vote, or I will blow up your phones.

Ryan: (rolls his eyes) You guys can ignore it, and go ahead and ask me if you have any questions. Genius Ryan is here!