Dominantly His

(1) Don't Cry Over Spilled Milk

Cassidy Winter's POV

Andy had sent me a text informing me that he was to pick me up from the airport. Nervous, I fiddled with my thumbs as I tucked my tongue inside my cheek, scanning the waiting room for any sign of the brown-haired assistant. I messed him to pieces.

What I couldn't put my finger on, however, was the way that Sir would treat me. Would he be relieved? Worried? Shít, mad?

I tried to shake off the thought as I heard my name being called from behind me. "Miss Winters!" Andy's voice came as a shock to me as I whirled around to face him, a grin creeping up onto my face.

Andy raced up to me, embracing me in a tight hug. "Oh, God! I thought I'd never see you again!" He exclaimed happily.

I squealed. "Gee, I missed you too, you!"

Andy put me down worriedly. "Where have you been? You've been gone a month, and Sir James was going insane without you."

I inwardly smiled that Sir had worried. I couldn't wait to see him. "Is he mad at me?" I asked Andy as he took my luggage while I followed him to the the parking lot.

Andy didn't reply for a moment, until, "no." I sighed in relief. Sir wasn't mad. And I'm sure if I explained what happened he would understand without a doubt.

The car ride was silent, awkward, and the air smelled of fear- probably mine. Andy may have assured me that Sir wasn't mad, but I knew I was still getting a disappointing lecture. It was sort of a thing. Andy cranked up the radio that blasted some sort of rock music to ease the silence. I'm pretty sure it was deliberate.

"So," I drew out slowly, playing with my thumbs again. "What's new?"

"Nothing much," he managed. "BIO is opening a new branch though."

"BIO?"

"The BDSM International Odyssey. It's a bar. Sir didn't take you there before?"

"No," I muttered. "I can probably bring it up to him. What's the new branch for?"

"Just a regular bar," Andy explained. "It's more romantic than anything else really. Maybe Sir can take your for your two-year anniversary next month. I don't remember the name though."

"It's alright. I'll ask Sir."

*****

It may have only been a month for me, but it felt like years since I've stepped foot inside Sir's house. Four stories, staggeringly high, and as luxurious on the inside as it is in the outside. The best part was the heart of the house itself: Sir.

I briskly yet nervously walked inside, Andy following not too far away with my luggage. Yes I was nervous. Yes I had to worry. Yes, yes, yes.

"Andy?" I whispered. "Where's Sir?"

"He's in the kitchen," Andy mumbled guiltily. I cocked an eyebrow, biting my lip and continuing to walk ahead to the kitchen. Nothing much in the layout had changed, but the rest of Sir's housekeepers watched me with gaping expressions.

I peeked through the doorway of the kitchen, and sure enough Sir was in there, his back turned to me as he warmed up the milk, no doubtfully for his coffee. Andy put my luggage down and excused him self, wishing me luck. I didn't answer. I continued to watch Sir maneuver gracefully through the kitchen, which sort of surprised me as I always made his coffee.

Italian Dark Roast with half a teaspoon of sugar along with a packet of English light crème was his usual. He drank it twice everyday, and I always made it for him. Now he was making it himself? I sighed lowly, hoping he wouldn't hear. And he didn't.

I stepped away from the doorway and took a step inside the kitchen quietly. "Sir?" I called in a whisper.

He gasped, whirling around and dropping the hot cup of milk in the process, hissing.

My eyes widened. "Oh! I'm sorry, Sir! Let me help-"

"No!" His eyes seeped with anger. So many emotions flooded through his gaze, and I couldn't tell any of them. I froze in place, my lips parted slightly. A minute passed, both of us quiet. I was practically surprised, while he was.. He seemed disappointed. I hated it. Every time I would do something wrong, he wouldn't only punish me, he would be 'disappointed in me.' It felt so wrong to fail him, and here I was. He was disappointed, not to mention the blazing anger he was demonstrating. "Why are you here?"

What? "Why am I here? Sir, I-"

"Don't call me that," he seethed. "You said you'd be gone for a week. You were gone for a month." He turned around to open the cupboard above the fridge. Surprisingly, he was the only one in the household that could reach that. It was all important paper of- well, importance.

"Don't call you what?" I whispered softly.

"Don't call me 'Sir.' I'm not your 'Sir' anymore."

Tears started forming, but they didn't dare spill. I had to hold them just a while more. My breathing almost stopped. "But, our contract! I just had things to-"

"Contract? This paper?" He brought down the two sheets that were the contract between us, holding it in his hands, making a motion to rip them. And he did. He ripped the contract in half. "It's trash, now."

That did it for me. Tears washed down my cheeks like a waterfall, and I stuttered to form words. I couldn't.

He seemed reluctant to rip it up too, but he didn't say it. "You can leave. Andy will show you out."

I wanted him to wrap his arms around me, plant soft and loving kisses on my forehead, whispering words that would tell me it's all just a joke, and he'd never want me to leave. I wanted him, but I don't think he did anymore. He bit his lip, furrowing his eyebrows and turning around, bending down to clean up the milk.

"Don't cry over spilled milk," I croaked. He stopped cleaning for a fraction of a second, brushing it off and restarting. I started talking again, my voice less croaky. "But I'm going to cry over you."

He didn't react this time, so I walked out, grabbing my luggage and walking towards the front door. Andy met with me midway. "What happened in there? Why are you crying?"

"He said he'd never let me go. He said he'd never let me go. He said he'd never let me go," I repeated over and over to him, those words being the only ones I could manage. Andy caught me in a hug.

"I'm so sorry, Cassidy. Please don't leave," he murmured.

"He said he'd never leave me," I choked out. Andy squeezed me tighter.

"Let her go, Andy," Sir said in a monotone, appearing in the hallway. "She doesn't deserve your sympathy."

I didn't look up at Sir, who I should probably call by his first-name: Jason, now. Instead, I looked up Andy as he reluctantly let me go.

"You'll be alright," he mouthed. I nodded softly, turning and bolting out of the door, out of his house, and out of Sir's life.

Out of Sir's life.

Hey everyone! How'd you like the (formal) first chapter? I'd love your feedback! The story will be in mostly Cassidy's POV, except I'd like to add an extra bonus chapter in Andy's in the end. I don't know. Anywho, thanks for reading!
~Liam