AGE GAP STORY!!!
Beverly clover fawn, the definition of sweetness, the most precious girl as considered by her parents. but due to her father's business and busy schedule, he somewhere left his daughter behind.
that's when someone else grabbed he...
He had rings in his hands and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, putting his neck tattoos to display. Mr. Petrov maintains eye-contact with me, he had absolutely no expression on his face.
Snap out of it , clover. He's older and your dad's friend.
"Beverly" dad says in a warning tone. I quickly alter my gaze and look anywhere but him.
Don't stutter, calm down, don't fiddle with your fingers, don't shake your leg. It's okay.
"Good evening, it's a pleasure to have you here" I blurt out. Way to ruin it.
He chuckles, holy mother of cheese- why is he so hot. I'll have to tell my imaginary friend about this.
"Hello, sweet girl" that's it , I'm dying. Goodbye world. You were good to me .
"Come on, let's sit" dad says. Thankyou dad , I quickly say mentally.
Dad sits at the head of the table, mom to his right, I sit on mumma's side and Mr. Petrov sits directly opposite to me.
"You're shaking" a voice comes. His voice comes. mumma places her hand on my knee and circles it.
"It's okay" she whispered in my ear. I nod , thanking her quickly.
Ms. Moore served us all, I quickly thank her and pray to God before eating. Nobody does that except for me, not that it's going to stop me.
"Приятного аппетита" (translation: enjoy your meal ) dad talks to him in some other language I have absolutely no clue about.
Once we were done with dinner , dad excused himself as he had a call to take and mumma left to help ms. Moore.
The tension in the air was thick, so thick that I wanted to escape as quick as possible. Mr. Petrov looks down at his phone. Doing god knows what.
"Is this how you treat your guests, little girl?" I sit up straight quickly. He puts his phone to the side spreads his legs. His elbows supported by his knees.
"I-I'm sorry." I apologise immediately.
"I don't need an apology from you clover." The way my name rolled out of his mouth was so soothing to listen to.
"Shall I tell you a-a joke maybe?" I ask so that he doesn't think that I'm a meanie. He nods looking at me.
"What do you call a fake noodles?" He shakes his head waiting for me to answer.
" An impasta" I giggle raising my hand for a high-five. This was one of my best jokes but Mr. Petrov had absolutely no expression on his face.
"Can I tr-try again?" I ask tilting my head. He nods and adjusts himself.
"Where does the sheep go to get a haircut?" I ask. He shurgs his shoulders .
"Where?" He asks ,with a bored-tone?
"The baaa baaa shop" I let out a quick chuckle but again nothing happened. He doesn't even smile at me. I sigh and defeat.
"So-sorry to be mean but that's not v-very Nice of you Mr. Robot" I say looking down.
"Mr. What?" He raised his perfectly arched eyebrow at me.
I gulp and look down as I stand up fisting my hand.
"You shouldn't h-have asked me t-to talk in the first place if y-you weren't interested " I say quickly.
He was about to say something when dad comes into view and looks at us.
"All good?" He asked . I remain silent not knowing what to say.
"Yes Damien, little clover here was just telling me about the noodles and the sheep" he says patting dad's shoulder.
I look at him only to find that his eyes were fixated on me. He smirks and I pout, furrowing my brows.
Mr. Petrov was here to stay.
A/n: hello my beautiful babies , hope you all are doing good if not here's a hug🫂. Hope you enjoyed! :-)
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