Lovers of the Abyss

Chapter 7 Left for Dead Part 1

This was hell, absolute grating torture, and pain, the worst she'd ever felt in her life; and Belle had quite literally died before. This was worse than the burning, the death, the bullet wounds, and the stabbings. She would trade anything to feel peace just once.

"Mo boaluahe, fix your face you look like you're being flayed by Apollo himself." Belle heard from her side as the soft trailing of Einaudi ruminated within the room, soft chatter, twirling in golden lights and bouncing off vinyl floors.

It was gorgeous really, with grand walls etched in yellow gold, paired with beautiful black and white marble pillars. Hanging matching gold chandeliers, a live band playing, and everyone dressed to the nines. Belle could hand it to the Psychiatric Association of Baltimore, they knew how to throw a rager. Well, a rich people rager. With fancy little hors d'oeuvres and chutes of sparkling champagne.

If Belle knew this is what she was agreeing to she would have requested a lot more than sex.

A lot.

Yet here she was, in a dress that she felt like a stranger in. It was long, half black, half nude. It came midway up on her neck, the two fabrics clinging and falling perfectly over her. It all cinched at the waist and separated again creating a slash so her leg came out as she walked, revealing tiny black heels. Her hair had been pulled up from her back into some intricate up-do that Jaibrien had paid for to be done. Along with the perfect make-up, all except for Belle's bloody red lip.

She did that herself thank you very much.

Jaibrien also adorned a black and cream-coloured suit that hugged her waist and flared out at her feet covering her suit shoes. Her hair was tightly braided in an updo with gold bands and settled into a bun in the back. Babyhairs are laid in swirling patterns framing her face. Cheekbones catching all the light and bouching off her cheekbones and perfectly glossed lips.

So, apparently, Belle can't wear comfortable shoes but Jay can.

"Well Bluebird," Belle bites back as the warm lighting catches her wedding ring that laid on her finger with matching white gold accessories. "I would be happier if my feet weren't killing me."

A kiss on her temple and a warm feeling running through her body was her answer, any beginning discomfort disappeared. Belle rolled her eyes praying a quick fuck off which only resulted in Jaibrien sending a small warning look.

"My love, those are custom Stuart Weitzman's," she hummed smiling at a couple who walked by, chattering loudly in the ambiance of the room. "They are made for no one but you."

Belle huffed, she didn't know who the dude was but his shoes were ass.

"And what was the price of them?" She inquired.

"Nothing less than what you deserve," Jaibrien whispered in her ear, sending a wave of shivers through her. Her wife's back straightened and she looked toward a man that Belle knew from her the table they were sat at earlier. He was with a group of people and Jay nodded to him, handing her shute of champagne to Belle to hold. "I'll be back, my love." Trying to give Belle a break from the poshness of the evening.

You know what?

Belle is gonna drink this goddamn champagne.

As she finished the drink she moved to set it down on a tray to find a gentleman to her side. The man had a commanding presence, dark academia to a T. A black pinstripe suit with a bleeding heart red paisley tie and thick vest underneath. He reminded her of Jaibrien in his attitude, cold and graceful. As if he was a glacier, deep and heavy yet somehow above everything else.