Behind His Side Of The Glass

Chapter 1 - This is it.

Delilah's POV:

The rays of the Californian sun beamed down onto the exterior of the black 2020 Nissan, bathing the car in a dewy gold, each stroke of sun seemingly beating down harder than the last. The temperature of both the outside and the inside had become unbearable, it had begun to torture my fair skin, that was only used to England's bitter weather. The buzz of the shitty ac cut through the silence, occasionally running dead before restarting again. What cool air had been blown out from the vent was now drowned out by the warmth, lessening the intensity, but only slightly. A cough from the drivers seat pulled me out of my thoughts, a deep, raspy cough that sounded as if he was heaving up the mucus from his throat. I grimaced and let my eyes roll to the back of my head. Upon getting into the car I had noticed that it reeked of cigarettes, which had led me to believe that this guy was a chain-smoker. And after hearing the way he coughed, I knew now he definitely was one.

I could feel the back of my thighs stick to the leather seats of the Uber, my perspiration from the heat gluing me to the material. A huff escaped from my throat as I pulled at the collar of my sweatshirt, that now felt as if it were choking me. I was doing the best I could to stop myself from breathing in the dirty air around me, but alas my face contorted into expressions of disgust as I was forced to delve my nose into my shirt. I peered once more at the blurred scenery through the car window.

Rows of houses, panelled with cream coloured wood, lined the streets of Manhattan Beach, California. Each house reached a level of two floors, all were sheltered with the same sloping rooves and protected within white picket fences. Lawns of emerald coloured grass and thick masses of ostentatious plants surrounded the homes in attempts to set the 'rich' apart from the 'poor'. I shook my head slightly, wondering why anyone would spend extortionate sums of money on garden plants to impress people, who at the end of the day would still judge them. The vibrant yellows, greens and reds all meshed into one swirl of colour, as I shifted my attention to the beach that lay behind the houses.

Sand stretched across the horizon, it's surface disrupted by small children digging holes and creating castles made of sand. However it welcomed the patters of many feet, as well as the occasional towel for those who chose to sunbathe. I could almost hear the gleeful shrieks of infants who were fascinated by the sand between their toes, and the whispers of 'i love you' shared amongst couples who walked hand in hand along the shore. The imprints of their feet being washed away by the sea. The water looked crisp and inviting, its waves lapping against one another in smooth motions.

Unshed tears threatened to fall from my eyes as I struggled to remember the last time my family and I had spent any sort of time together. I chewed on the corner of my lip, reciting in my head the words my father had drilled into me as I was growing up,

'Big girls don't cry'.

The feeling of my Uber coming to a halt caused my eyes to snap open, I wearily surveyed my surroundings whilst I plastered my face with it's regular neutral expression.

"We're here" the driver states plainly, his eyes fixed onto the road ahead of us. I peered into the driver's mirror, noting on the desperate look in his eyes for me to leave. 'Probably so he can light up another fucking cigarette' I voiced in my head, which caused me to roll my eyes yet again. I muttered a quick "thank you" as I unclipped the seatbelt by my hip. I opened the door to the car, setting my left foot onto the ground. Then my right foot. The driver wasted no time in driving away as soon I had closed the door behind me.

"This is it" I whispered to myself.

I trudged up the cobblestone pathway, that ran through the middle of the yellowing grass of my lawn, until I reached my front door. It was red, a vast difference from the plain white wood panelling that decorated the house walls. Empty flowerpots spotted the window ledge of the huge window that sat by the front door, and a look through it showed the custard yellow paint that engulfed the inside. I groaned as I realised that I would have to paint over the colour, I fucking hated painting.

In frustration, I slotted the key to my new house into the rusty lock of the door, almost dislocating my fucking wrist in the haste to get myself inside. I tugged once more before it opened. I took my first step across the threshold and I gently shut the door.

A sudden wave of heat smacked into me, leaving me to notice the sweat that had began trickling down my body due to the dumbass sweater I was wearing in the hundred degree weather. I tugged the material off from my body, which now left me in my leggings and small sports bra.
Having large tits like myself had many downsides, one of which being that the clothes I wore always seemed to appear tighter and more scandalous than what they were.

A knock at the door caused my head to whip around, I checked the clock on my wrist. The moving van filled with my belongings wasn't due to arrive for another half an hour, I guessed it must have come early. Throwing my sweatshirt onto the floor, I made my way to let the moving people inside. However, I was surprised to have found myself being greeted by a couple. The woman held a plate of cookies in her hand.

"Hi there, we know you're new to the neighbourhood, so we wanted to bring some cookies to say welcome - homemade of course!" she delivered the last line in a shrill laugh that caused me to wince.

She stuck her hand hand out halfway between the both of us, I extended my own hand and shook hers, opening my mouth to respond to her, only to be cut off.

'This bitch' I thought to myself.

"I'm Vicky Moretti, and this here is my husband, Shane Moretti" at this point she was pumping my arm up and down with enthusiasm, a smile stretched wildly across her face. I pulled my eyes away from hers, and looked up.

Only to be met with the piercing green irises of a man. I swallowed.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, please, call me Shane".

A/n

So Delilah and Shane have finally met, I wonder what's gonna happen next...

This story will be told from both Shane and Delilah's point of views, also please note that Delilah is English and Shane is American, so some spellings/words will be different in their POV's because some things in England and America are spelt/said differently!

Hope you enjoyed reading this, see y'all in the next one

Ciao

-bitchesaremysons <3