The Lies We Tell

The Lie of Embellishment (p11)

Where details are exaggerated for whatever purpose it serves the subject.

1 November 2015

Sunday

3:00 p.m

Silver nails tapped the spines of hard paperbacks and smooth wooden surfaces. Elowen caressed the spine of each book with such delicacy one would mistake it for Fine China. Her latest muse was scuffling around the historical romance section in the bookstore looking for a good read that was neither too cliché nor too popular.

She grabs the last book on the shelf, "the devil in winter by Lisa Kleypas. Interesting." She mumbled, scanning the synopsis before placing it back on the shelf and grabbing the one adjacent to it. Cold fingers brushed against hers, grabbing the book first. She whipped her head back, only to face a gorgeous pair of cobalt eyes. "Hola."

Lucas Braxton stood in front of her, his inky black hair an unkempt mess and a black shirt pulled taut over his muscular frame whilst his eyes twinkled in amusement as he stared her down. Their kiss ruined their friendship. A friendship Emilia held closer to her heart than anything else.

Lucas Braxton was the perfect boy next door; good manners, model physique, and to-kill-for-genes. Captain of the soccer team, the sheriff's son, and heiress to his mother's company. He was more than just a pretty face or a good brain; he was the devil himself. He abhorred their friendship otherwise he wouldn't have kissed her in the closet and ruined it.

Lucas Braxton was the boy in the treehouse, the boy who taught her how to eat with chopsticks and swear in Russian. But he was a liar. He was the boy who ruined everything she held closest to her. After making out with her in a closet, he was the boy who gave his virginity to her best friend at fourteen in their treehouse. Then left with more than his possessions, he left with her heart.

"Get lost", Emilia hissed, sidestepping the hunk, but he was too agile; he placed his arm on the bookshelf behind her and leaned closer till their chests brushed with every breath and their lips touched with every word they spoke. "I. Said. Get. Lost", she repeated, chopping up her words to appear menacing but Lucas' smirk widened.

"How long has it been since we've had a decent conversation, mi amor?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to her earlobe he moved away to watch her reaction. "Fuck off", she cussed, pissed. Flashing him the bird, she turned around and began examining the bookshelf, pretending to ignore Lucas' existence.

Keyword: Pretending.

She could very much feel his existence; his intense stare taking her in, his breath fanning her ear, and his hand lingering on the silver of exposed skin. His touch left sparks in their wake. The very sparks she'd loved the day they kissed in the wooden closet on her thirteenth party but had been in denial off ever since.

She didn't love him.

She couldn't love him.

She loathed him.

She hated him.

She abhorred every inch of his being.

"Isn't that Elowen and Charlie?" Lucas inquired, nudging her but she snorted at his pathetic attempts to get her to face him, "you can do better than that."

He sighed, "look, Lia-" she spun around, eyes blazing as she clamped her hand on his mouth, "don't call me that." She hissed, the inferno inside her bubbling, "you have no right to call me that. We're over, our friendship, our relationship, whatever we are- were. It's over!"