The Bad Boy, Cupid & Me

The Bad Boy, Cupid & Me [ 14 ]

"When I was a little girl I used to read fairy tales. In fairy tales you meet Prince Charming and he's everything you ever wanted. In fairy tales the bad guy is very easy to spot. The bad guy is always wearing a black cape so you always know who he is. Then you grow up and you realize that Prince Charming is not as easy to find as you thought. You realize the bad guy is not wearing a black cape and he's not easy to spot; he's really funny, and he makes you laugh, and he has perfect hair."

- Taylor Swift

~*~

“Comment vas-tu, ma belle? [How are you, my beautiful?]” His bright blue eyes glinted in the nightlight. Immediately I was captivated by the intensity. His deep golden hair was messed up perfectly and of course, how could one forget to notice his smirk.
 

I remembered this one time when my baby cousins came over; they brought their favorite cartoon, 101 Dalmatians.
There was this catchy tune about the mean woman that stole the cute puppies – Cruella DeVil. The moment I heard it, I had rearranged the lyrics to suite Ashton.

Ashton DeVille,
Ashton DeVille,
If he doesn’t hurt you,
No one ever will.
He’ll play you then he’ll break you and boy, will it kill…
He’s Ashton, Ashton DeVille.
 

“Ma belle? [My beautiful?]” I asked skeptically.

For as long as I remembered, Ashton and I always spoke in French. Although Ashton is only half French, he was born and raised in France. André – his best friend – along with a couple of deadly gangsters formed his clan. Ashton and André had intelligence and power whereas his followers had the strength to kill without hesitation. Overall, they were more than dangerous…they were lethal.

“Amour, tu seras toujours ma belle Chloé. [Love, you will always be my beautiful Chloe.]” he simply responded. I cursed my heart for pounding frantically against my chest.

Stupid, stupid, Chloe. Even after all this time, he can still hurt you.

“Je m'en fiche. [Makes no difference to me.]” I ensured him.

He laughed, “N'arretes pas de te le dire - mais nous savons la vérité les deux, ma belle. [You keep telling yourself that – but we both know the truth, my beautiful.]”

I raised my eyebrows, “Oh? Et c'est quoi ça exactement? [Oh? And what’s that exactly?]”

He took enough steps until he was close enough for me to smell his cologne. Memories flooded back - and it made me want to smile and cry at the same time.

His eyes were fully focused on mine. Locked. Bolted. No way of tearing apart. He smirked again, “C'est que toi et moi, nous nous appartenons les uns aux autres Chloé. [That you and I belong to each other Chloe.]”

At that moment, I couldn’t tell my feelings. I couldn’t just name one of them. I had so many emotions; it may have all formed together to be nothing.

All I knew was that I wanted to get away from him.

“Non, Ashton. Tu as tort. [No, Ashton. You’re wrong.]”

This time, Ashton raised an eyebrow and looked at me cynically, “L'ai-je vraiment, Chloé? [Am I, Chloe?]”

I was getting frustrated. I was determined not to let my guard down. My walls were stoned barriers and there was no way I was letting Ashton break them down again.

“Tout entre nous est fini Ash! Arrete me faire paraitre à un Mec Mal - Je t'aimais et tu m'as fait du mal. [Everything between us is over Ash! Stop making me sound like the Bad Guy - I loved you and you hurt me.]”