(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)I've made frivolous life decisions that I feel were inevitable and they had to happen, but never have I made a mistake this ludicrous!Drinking!God! Ahvi! What the hell were you thinking?!I facepalm for the nth time since I woke up feeling afloat and with a pounding headache, I could have detoured so early in the morning if I wasn't so damn fatuous!My grunts get noisier when I hear the sound of my phone that rests on the nightstand. I don't recall putting it there but I take it and answer the call.“We've been waiting for you Ahvi. The breakfast is getting cold!” My mom's voice comes from the other side. “I didn't think you were one to sleep this late and heavy and tell your brother too!” With a beep, the call ends. I curse under my breath and thank heaven when I notice the room is barren of Vance. Where did he go? I hiss. Likely on his phone again!My head stays stuck in vapor and my vision remains blurry till I'm under the shower and then suddenly, everyth
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)The beach is felicific. The feel of the sun on my skin is revitalizing, the tickly, grippy sand on my bare feet is something I don't know I missed till my feet are on them and the chilly water; waves crashing on the shore and the large ocean is just as intriguing.David is right, maybe having time to oneself is not a dire idea but then comes the bad part of my day as my mood turns disgruntled.Vance arrives at the dinner table David, Mom and I are seated with his friend, Genevieve.I don't feel my palms enclosing in tight fists till I feel my finger digging into my flesh. I loosen the grip but my rigid gaze on the unforeseen guest doesn't wobble.I thought this was supposed to be a family bonding time.She smiles at me as she poses on the chair beside Vance on the table. “I hope you don't mind I join you for dinner. My friends left because of an emergency and I don't enjoy eating alone,” she sends apologetic smiles across the table.“You are Vance's friend, we d
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)The word ‘disgusting’ whirls in my head as I enter the room and it stabs me with nausea.I'm despicable. The feelings I have for Vance are revolting and the fact that I let them develop makes me more despicable. I exhale a deep sigh as I sit on the bed, feeling dampened and depleted. Suddenly, I feel the strong desire to cry, it's overwhelming that I'm not able to stop the tears from spewing out. I could fall for anyone, love any man but I decided to fall for the one I can't have. He's going to despise me when he realizes every tease he mailed my way has been reciprocated differently.Before my cries can get harder, the sound of knocking on the door breaks through. Quickly, I wipe my face clean, get up from the bed, and go to open the door; it's a room service man with a bottle of wine.“Hello, Miss Ahvi. Miss Genevieve sent this as an apology,” He flashes me a plastic smile. Without a word, I receive the bottle, murmur a little ‘thank you’, and shut the door.
(AHVI'S POINT OF VIEW)I feel dirty.No matter how much I try to scrub my body clean under the shower, I still feel filthy and the more images of Vance between my legs, giving me an orgasm deluges my mind, the dirtier I feel.I can't feel the briny of my tears because of the running water over my head but they continue to spew down my face while thought after thought spirals round and round in my head, inundating me with the feeling of trepidation and solicitude. What have I done? Why did I let myself fall when I'd been holding on for so long? Why would he do that when he knew how wrong it was? Why did I let him? Why, why, why? Why my stepbrother?I don't know how long I remain under the shower till I feel my body gradually going torpid and my tears stop streaming while my body feels fatigued of liveliness and keenness but unhurriedly, I make my way out of the shower.I stand stripped in front of the bathroom mirror and there on my neck is a rubicund bruise that's slowly turning purp
(RAVEN'S POINT OF VIEW)There are many times I wish I could tone them out entirely. I wish they can halt for once and see that the fucking world does not revolve around them.I fist my hands and look at my parents as they hurl insults at each other from across the dinner table, disturbing the equilibrium and tranquility that comes with having dinner after having a tiring day.It's the same thing every day, the same shit and the same insults, they fucking sound like broken records as they go over and over again. Having enough, I slam my palms on the table. “Just fucking divorce already if you can't stand to be in the same room for a second. I'm trying to fucking eat!”My Mom rasps in shock. “You don't speak to us in that tone, Raven! What do they teach you in school these days?”“Oh really, like you would care to find out. How about the fucking tone you are using with each other. You are driving me fucking insane!” “If your mother isn't such a fucking tart, spreading her legs just to
(RAVEN'S POINT OF VIEW)I should have thought this through, should have backed out the moment his eyes sheen with an enigmatic intent but I didn't and now that I am here, following an unknown man to a hotel room all because of an unknown attraction, there's no backing out. I sit on the bed, watching with a smirk as Mr. Velasquez silently shuts the door behind him and when he turns, the view that blesses my eyes is stunning. This close, I can take his looks in without skipping a detail.His eyes are a forest green, his hair is a jet-black color that's brushed off his forehead. His nose and jawlines are sculpted and his lips look full and tantalizing, something I would love to bite. My smirk broadens as my eyes unhurriedly and deliberately jog on his muscular body covered in a fitting black suit that outlines his perfect body and then, I'm looking up to meet his eyes. “How old are you?” He grills in an inscrutable tone while stapling me with a rigid and preying stare that furors some
(RAVEN'S POINT OF VIEW)I didn't return home last night, I spent the night in a hotel room that was fully paid for. I wake up with a pounding headache and a perceptible feeling of rejection as the events of last night come crashing back and hit me with an uncanny force; the bitterness grows on my tongue. Mustering my strength, I get out of bed, out of the hotel room, and out of the building. I get on my bike and drive off, leaving the memories of last night behind.When I get home, I'm confronted by my Mom who's dressed for an outing pacing from one corner of the living room to the other. I almost ignored her but she noticed my presence as quickly as I ambled in.“Where the heck have you been?!” She immediately blows up, her voice too clamant, and increases the pound in my head. “Out with my friends,” I answer with a roll of my eyes. I marvel how she will feel knowing I nearly got fucked last night by someone 17 years older than me but likely, she won't care, like now; it never cros
(RAVEN'S POINT OF VIEW)I've been racing since I was 17 and started racing professionally when I was 19. The feeling of the engine rumbling under my feet, the acceleration that throws my body backward, the excitement, the adrenaline, everything that surges through my veins makes me want to go faster.As my eyes stay concentrated on the road, my hands on the steering wheel are on a tight grip and as the speedometer rises close to a red zone, that feeling of thrill floods my veins. It's why I loved racing, it rears a feeling of freedom and control that I only get on the tracks. The combination of speed, danger, and the satisfaction of winning, I never want this feeling to end but it does when the car zaps through the finishing line and I step on the brakes.Instantly, my teammates in their purple, and white uniforms surround the car and I step out, taking off my helmet and feeling giggly as they laud my unique skills on the tracks. And oh, I'm the only girl in my team with five guys and