Affairs Of The Heart

🌺U N O

I rolled my eyes, at her exaggeration and tried to make small talk with the girl I'd been shackled onto in an event to settle a debt. On normal occasions I wouldn't even bother with her type, wouldn't even glance at the perfect princess but unfortunately, this was not a normal situation.

"So...Iris, I hear you do psychology?" I gave her what I hoped to be a smile but it could have also been a grimace.

She looked at me, her nose crinkled like she smelt something displeasing and her lips pulled down into a frown. "I would prefer if you refrained from speaking to me."

And for a second as she said this all former docility is gone, there's a bite to her tone and clip to her gaze. Something that both intrigued and irritated me.

I ground my teeth behind my smile.

"My apologies."

She said nothing, returning to that comatose state she'd abandoned for a second.

Luckily for me, the waiter had set down my drink and as it had descended on the table just as quickly had it been raised to my lips, in a silent salute to her which she answered with contained hatred, I took a sip of the amber liquid and meditated on the knowledge of how this will be the beginning of hell.

🌺

As the party winded down—Thank God—, Iris and I stood at the exit, the car to take us to our destination waiting patiently as my family stumbled drunk out of their wits, to wish me the best on my wed to the "ragazza che è di perfezione" (girl who is of perfection). A term that I regarded with bitter distaste.

Iris who stood a little off on my left had a perfectly carved smile on her lips as her parents, who happened to be the only ones attending the wedding on her behalf showered her with hushed words and loving pats. My parents on the other hand didn't offer me any loving pats, my mother who was by my father offered me a tiny smile but not much else. My father, the emotionless husk held my gaze with a glare of a thousand burning suns.

It was a warning to me.

To which I responded with rolled eyes at the man. Now impatient with the gathering and it's seemingly inevitable end, side eying, the girl and her parents, I couldn't help but feel as if they'd never stop cooing at her. It was as if she was still a spoiled little girl and not a twenty-three year old woman.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

"Apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Harding but-"

"Of course, Luca. How rude of us to take your bride from you." Julius Harding interrupted sheepishly.

I didn't spare him with the pleasantry of saying it was no big deal or I didn't mind, I simply looked at the girl who hugged herself as if embracing a soldier who'd come home from war. She understood, she knew it was time for us to go. So Iris kissed her parents goodbye and half-dragged herself to the car door which had been open since the wedding started two hours ago.

Climbing into the car at the pace of an atm on payday, I got in behind her and shut the door. The congregated wedding goers waving us off, their smiles juxtaposing our own smileless faces. The girl backed herself in the furthest corner of the car as if she were a wounded puppy and me, her assailant. It was irritating and at the same time refreshing, for me, to see a woman wanted to be far away from me, as usually it was quite the opposite. As if moths they were drawn to the power, the riches and the dangerous allure men like me exuded like pheromones.

And that wasn't narcissism, those were facts.

So who was this girl to not want to be close to someone like me?