The bitterness such undesired memories caused lingered shortly in the air, since Tessa's cheerful conversations effortlessly chased it away. In a matter of minutes, a sense of glee was palpable from Charlie's utterances, and hearty chuckles. Their delightful discussions prompted the quickness of dish washing. “We're done. That was… Fast ” Tessa, herself was stunned at their partial oblivion, and Charlie countlessly laughed lowly. “Why don't we continue our discussion back with my parents, Father?” As she dabbed her hands continuously with a towel, the aged man's eyes glinted temporarily with wist. It was clear his sense of speaking became non-existent whenever Doreen, and himself were close by. A father should never be afraid to exchange words with his son, yet it was evident something else persistently acted as a cat — catching Charlie's tongue. That was guilt. “You do want to make amends, don't you Father?” Tessa inquired seriously in that saccharine voice of hers. “More than
The light laughter constantly falling from the lips of the Earth's embodiments of purity — children blessed many with glee, and introduced smiles to their lips. Generally, the park was such a stress draining place, yet this location wasn't selected because of that — Maria was choiceless. Currently, the second grandchild of the eternally famous Charlie Williams could be spotted seated on one of the metallic benches of the park. One was placed right in front of her, and due to its lengthiness, the mother and daughter duo occupied that. The shade provided by the large umbrella tree above them was cooling but the burning fire those pair of brown eyes which continuously were centered on them made the young red haired… Hot. Catrina, her mother was obviously engrossed in ogling at the playing children as she incessantly smiled. “Why the fuck are you here?” Maria, after many silent glares, questioned gravelly with her arms folded over her chest, and a leg crossed on the other. The inti
Regardless of the sun's presence, the mild guts of winds carried along a bone chilling cold, and many roaming around were dressed warmly. It was evidently chilly yet sprawled on the bed, Tessa felt nothing else but controlled heart, and limitless satisfaction. On the king-sized bed, she laid with an exhausted body and a smile lingering on her lips. Those mesmerizing blue orbs weren't in view since her eyes were shut, and multiple strands of her thicken blond dangled across her flushed face — her beauty was effortless, and otherworldly. The collar of the light fabricated shirt she was cladded in fell to a side, so the few love bites imprinted on her pale skin were visible. Due to the absence of a duvet, her ankle with a gold chain encircled on it glimmered softly in the moderately illuminated room. Tessa was an ethereal sight to behold, and being the first to do so every darn day, Doreen considered himself the luckiest bastard. He was settled comfortably in a posh longue chair,
The collision of the heavens possibly wouldn't grant her withdrawal from her speeding train of thoughts, and so, the nurse's entrance was utterly insignificant. It was the next morning, and it was one filled with so many peculiarities. Every being shared in a bowl of awe at the occurrence of guts of winds while the sun was positioned rightfully in the sky. It was simultaneously chilly, and hot. However, the nurse tasked to take care of a very well-known figure was slapped hard across the face with immense confusion the instant she stepped into the ward. “Miss… Maria?” Perplexity quickly blended with fright at the sight of the bratty dark-haired seating upright on the bed yet remained motionless. The softness of the large pillow placed behind welcomed her back, which persistently rested on it, and her pair of brown eyes apparently became moths. Although the ceilings of the capacious ward were as bland as a canvas — devoid of any color, Maria's eyes found them quite vibrant, and f
The three ladies weren't strangers to another, yet the atmosphere was discomfitingly suffocating for Maria and Octavia. The latter knew the extent her mother would go whenever it comes to her welfare except, things were misunderstood during the previous day. And the former — who just got a taste of a mother's wrath, was low-key intimidated and her fake veil of pride was tearing apart. “I contacted Lady Beth,” Catrina unexpectedly blurted, and both ladies batted their eyelashes. “What for?” Octavia questioned while arising from her seat, and a smile crept up her mother's lips. “Calling this young lady here Lady Theresa's future sister-in-law won't be a stretch, and since she passed out yesterday, it was only normal I contacted Lady Beth. She called back this morning, and informed us all to head to the Manor."“Why?” Maria sharply but lowly inquired. “An execution's about to begin at the Manor — your cousin's.” Seconds were all that was needed for that utterance to be comprehended,
Was it ever mentioned in the Bible that devils were so…. Majestic?Tony, and Mary were uncertain, but currently the two had their pairs of eyes — including everyone's glued to the figures of the two blindingly gorgeous beings. The wistfulness coursing through Mary's veins ever since the arrest was quickly overshadowed by rage as her dark orbs glared so intently yet hatefully at the blond angel. The taste of immense rancor sprouted out of every bud on her tongue urged the bitterness of her mouth — every fiber of Mary's being was brimming with rage. Her eyes departed from the marble tiles the instant Tessa stepped in, and nothing — absolutely nothing existed as her glare persisted. She wasn't the sole one gawking at the stunning couple with exasperated eyes. Tony was shaking. His cuffed wrists, and balled fists quivered — the tightness of his clenched jaw prompted veins crawling on his bare skin, and the sclera of his eyes became a web of red, bloodshot lines. He was livid, and a
Words truly were inferior to actions, and currently, every thought her mind created, and scornful utterances her lips sprouted centered on this majestic aged woman didn't tally with her action. Not in the slightest fucking bit. Francess did imagine herself snickering fearlessly at the sight of the illustrious Beth Ford. The defined European lady had her great deeds sprinkled across the world like sand over the Earth - many either were overjoyous to be in her present or numb caused by overwhelming intimidation. She was evidently experiencing the former. Francess' tongue knotted in her mouth, and her palms become sweaty then slightly shaky. “F-fuck.” In an attempt to comport herself, she fisted both hands then exhaled, trying to rid her body of its abrupt stiffness. Here in Killian's library - a place he mindlessly boasted of being his haven had unnervingly been occupied by this prominent woman. As the man of the house, the brown haired remained collected and his wife? Stephanie w
Every passing second escalated his number of paces, and times his heart skipped a darn beat. Killian D'Arcy was unsettled — so verily troubled that the grayness of his hair dulled, bottom lip — constantly been chomped upon by the upper bleeding slightly, and eyes shaking unstably in their sockets. For a being that has lived for over 40 years, his system experienced this unwanted sensation twice. Once in Europe, and now, in his very own library in his mansion. This place was his sanctuary — his heaven. However, a demon; one so vile, and insidious that it's a task to tear a gaze from. She bore a name — Macbeth fucking Ford, and to God Killian hated her with every fiber in his being. Like a hurricane, she twirled aggressively yet so calmly into his abode and left — elegant, composed but caused so much damage. His family was in shambles. His apprehensive round of pacing came to a halt once quickened footsteps echoed in his ears, and with a head swerved, Killian beheld a maid. Her g
His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his tailored black tuxedo accentuated his lean physique.With the first notes, Tessa launched into a whirlwind of movement and her feet barely touching the stage. Her tutu fluttered like a butterfly's wings, and her pointe shoes whispered against the floor. “Oh!”“Wow!”“Ha!”The audience entranced by the soft rustle of her skirt, the gentle creak of her shoes, and the sweet scent of rosin wafting from her movements helplessly gushed out loud. As she danced, the music swirled around her like a velvet cloak — enveloping her in a rich tapestry of sound. The notes of the celesta twinkled like stardust, and the violins sang with a soaring beauty that left the audience breathless.As she revealed her swan-shaped birthmark, Doreen's eyes became glassy and an uproar; one so deafening occurred. He smirked, knowing the significance of that mark, and he knew that his angel was revealing her true self to the world.The music swelled, and Tessa executed
One would predict the atmosphere of a prison visitation room to be moderately tense. Especially when the inmate was one's birth mother, and got sentenced to prison for quite a significant time due to horrendous charges such as emotional manipulation, coercion, exploitation, and abuse of power. Alongside the rest, the father and twin brother. They've been thrown into prison for weeks. Yet, an ounce of that didn't linger either inhaled. Such calmness wasn't derived from the presence of two female guards stationed at the door, nor the solid glass barrier hindering the inmate from the prisoner. None of that was the cause of her composure — Francess had nothing to be troubled about when her dear friend, Tessa, was seated by her side. “Are you… anxious?” Both were settled on the worn out plastic chairs with backs and seats a shade of faded gray and her hand — placed on the counter got covered by a delicate one. It belonged to Tessa. Those blue eyes — warm and gentle, crinkled at the
“How can you consider your son something like that when all I've done for that fucking company is given it my all?”“You're all isn't enough!”“And so is yours! You — my fucking mother, keeps demanding unattainable shit from me when you failed at a simple task years ago! Years ago, you caused Francess' memory loss and…”“Shut up Francisco!!” Killian screamed ear deafeningly — numerous veins become prominent, and crawling incessantly up his neck; just like his son. Amid the screams, Francess, mute soundlessly, glanced at a feverishly shivering Stephanie, and once their eyes met — for the first time in… Years ago, the brown-eyed saw something in her. Affection she never got from her wasn't caused due to hate or anything, just… Guilt. Stephanie once again began her frantic words to vomit, yet they hung in the air as Francess's gaze drifted away, her eyes clouding over like a stormy sky. The bound wrists, the arguing voices, the slick stage – everything faded into the background as me
It ultimately did, and the restrictions of her hand; bounded behind by thickened ropes, sent more torrents of perplexity raining down her soul. “What's…”“… Happening!” The voice she heard before her consciousness choicelessly left her once more penetrated into Francess' ears from a different direction. Sharply, she glanced at one of the wings of the stage, and emerging from there was… Her family. The entirety of the D'Arcy were here. All donned such elegant clothing yet the atmosphere lingering around two out of three was questionable. While Francisco perpetually had a smirk dancing on his lips, and a printed document in his possession, Killian with his wife were unsettled. Unsurprisingly, Stephanie — her ever anxious mother would've slacked behind, but her husband's linked arm with hers prevented that. He ambled, head up, and eyes — which roamed with determination, tangled with a bit of regret were transfixed on his daughter. “What the fuck is going on here? What in hell's name
There, she got her entire existence thoroughly questioned by her mind due to the massive effect that conversation had. Francess sincerely bore no idea how she got to the opulent junior suite of the Fords Palazzo Ducale. Currently, she laid — back flat, and eyes glued to the complexly designed ceiling of her room with mind thinking solely about Theresa Ford. “I… I came here because I needed answers and now… I'm…!” Her pairs of eyelids, reddish due to excess tears, and eyes sunken into their sockets reddened, blinked slowly while a sigh fell from her lips. “… Confused. So fucking confused!” Francess’ trembling hands reached for her face then flattened on it before inaudible sobs. She was exhausted from everything — of breathing, living, and life itself. She'd be a damn liar to claim life became draining once Tessa came into the Ballet Academy back at home — who was she kidding? Then, she'd constantly practice ballet while ignoring the presence of drugs in her meals. Daily intake o
The few days spent — alone in the ancient of Milan entailed crisp air, and bone chilling winds. It always got freezing cold whenever night befall the beautiful city, and regardless of the hotness the heater of her suite provided, warmth clothing, and lengthy soak in hot baths, cold unceasingly engulfed her whole being. Tessa assumed she'd choicelessly, and all so adversely, grow accustomed to it, but… The good Lord answered her prayers. With arms thrown on his broad shoulders, fingers entwined — locked around his nape, and legs coiled over his torso, their bodies had no space between them. Basking in a bottomless ocean of comfort, Tessa certainly has never felt this…cozy before!“I'm fucking glad I'm here…” His words, whispered closely to her ear, had its accompanying warmth dissolving every ounce of chill in the bones, then wrapped itself so comfortingly around her heart. Not even the fireplace, residing beside them with its burning glow, could be equal to her beloved's warmth.
Parting her thickened wet eyelashes, the beams of the moonlight seeping through the large framed window kissed her face as she sighed. So slowly, she properly began showering with mind torn between two unsettling topics — Doreen's absence and Francess' presence. No… It would've been swell if the two ballet dancers didn't meet — ever again. Back then — their past, although unresolved, wasn't so hurting Tessa; it was never this bad. Confrontations were a lethal catalyst; she assumed leaving Europe would prevent the scene that occurred a few hours ago but….“I should've never started dancing. Fuck!” Slamming her hand hard on the glass walls encasing her, frustration morphed into liquid, took the place of blood in her veins and circulated unwantingly yet unceasingly in her entire being. Back then, guilt was always beside her — making living hard, but gingerly, Tessa realized better than any she didn't feel guilty. She felt stupid for befriending the brown haired — Francesca D'Arcy on
Memories poured into her mind in multitudes, and re-opening them, balls of tears snuck out then gilded slowly down her cheeks. “I wished never to be back here again but… Here I am.” Most ballet dancers would kill to step foot onto the stage of this neoclassical architectural masterpiece, and the passion which flamed it all had gone out in hers. The situation has changed — she has changed. Well, that was a few years ago. Tessa stared from the posh empty seats, curves of ornate balconies and boxes, then gaped longingly at the section for dignitaries. Adorned finely by crimson luster velvety and gold leaf, she chomped hard on her lips mere picturing her parents, and loved ones occupying it. Thousands were going to attend the Nut Bowl — thousands were going to be watching her with jaws dropped, stupor, and reverberation. Yet, it'll all be insignificant and downright unnatural if the one responsible for reigniting her fiery desire to dance once more isn't… Present. Tessa's gaze fell
Once her pair of feet ascended the last step which led to the highly revered stage of the Teatro alla Scala, her brown eyes shone brighter than a single star at midnight. Maria visibly was… Flabbergasted — so happily, tearfully flabbergasted. She wasn't the only one, too. As the Soloists and Principal Dancers needed for the Nut Bowl stepped onto the stage, each was evidently enveloped by the utter majesty of the stage. A stage where they'd perform in due time, and the HeadMistress, in charge of familiarizing them with it, helplessly smiled at their untamed display of amazement. However, as her attention moved from one dumbfounded individual to the other, Angelica's eyes fell on the Prima Ballerina then she sighed. “Oh Tessa!” While the rest moved across the stage, still soaking in its ethereal beauty, the stern Italian woman moved to the prized, overly talented yet… Saddened soloist. Unlike the rest, Tessa's portrayal of awe was short-lived since it took no less than some second