His grip on that glass of champagne suddenly lost its strength; if not for his fast reflexes, he would indeed have dropped it down. Watching you entering the aisle to give your vows to another man was a bullet to his heart which he painfully took.
"...
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Rage was fuming from the man; he was almost possessed by some kind of demon, eyes bloodshot, his hands in the air while he kept storming back and forth, trashing profanities. As he crouched to level up with the sitting figure trembling in fear, the delicate silhouette kept moving back, trying to escape from the grasp of an unleashed beast. Still, it seemed of no use, the space was running out, leaving behind no escape route to be found but only a cold wall; the man as well had no intentions of letting go of his plans, and that made out of the scheme destiny was sewing, a success.
The sky seemed angry; the rumbling storm wasn't taking the name of God while pouring the tears of a sad nature, crying instead of souls whose tears had already dried. It was such a cold winter night; the wind threatened to break anything in its way, ready to destroy it all, good and bad. The lamps in the street kept flickering on and off, only adding darkness to the raven night; it was like a scene from the beginning of a horror movie, something you'd avoid watching while alone at home, afraid that a mysterious creature would pop out of nowhere, and haunt you down while feeling like a hostage of darkness.
Heavy breathing, and muffled screams, as his hand circled the neck of the person whom he was torturing without clemency, his grasp on the delicate skin became more assertive, and his eyes held a great sense of amusement looking at the person in front of him, almost losing their breaths, almost sighing the remaining of their soul. The person begged while fighting for their life, their hands hitting his sturdy chest with all their might, their feet rocking up and down consecutively as they tried to create an escape momentum. It was all in vain, the beast was more potent, and the sole purpose of his hold on your neck was to kill you.
The dimmed lights inside the room made it difficult for you to see your propinquities; his strong grasp suppressed your voice, you wanted to scream and ask for help, but you couldn't, and you knew that no one would come to rescue you in all cases, the mansion was big, who would hear you despite his guards? Do you really think they will come to help you while he's the one to sign their checks at the end of the month? You must be really naive.
Another lightening in the sky, along with a strong wind wave that has pushed the curtains each to a separate side, sending some light into the almost dark room, a light that has helped you to see the devilish look inside his orbs, which has sent shivers down your spine, you could swear you saw demons inside those eyes, you saw the amount of rage indeed and hate in his countenance, the tears inside your eyes kept escaping and storming out in your stead. In contrast, you kept being captive by his hold.
When you surrendered yourself to your definite death, closing your eyes, your life flashed like a movie in the field of vision made by your sub-conscience. All the beautiful memories you had with your friends and family, the love you shared with your now ripper, the sweet memories from your first encounter until the moment he finally proposed.
The memory that had followed had a significant impact on you; it made you reminisce the long gone past, the image from that beautiful and happiest day in your life, when you entered the aisle holding your father's arm, wearing that beautiful white dress your mother helped you pick after long days visiting almost every bridal boutique. Her choice was definitely a success; you looked like a queen, let alone a princess; yes, you were a queen, his queen, as he always told you. His eyes sparkled when they met your figure, the long veil that kept brushing the ground while following you gave you a royal aura. While that beautiful crown your designer insisted on adding into the accessories of your big day, which for you was useless and only heaved on your head, made out of you a mesmerizing creature that seemed like some unrealistic character in one of the books you loved reading in your free time, you seemed like Henrietta Maria. Still, you wished your marriage won't be tragic like the one she had with King Charles I.
