Beautiful Disaster

Beauitful Disaster Chapter 5

                 Izzy sits opposite of Troy; head laid back, arms crossed. Her irritable voice soon breaks the silence with the deafening question I suddenly feel a bit conscience to. “Who the hell was that?” Her face glows with every bit of curiosity.

                Whoever it was, he made me feel strained, unable to speak, and almost spellbind. In the very core of my stomach a million race horses kicked and bucked urging me to speak, say, do something to that man; anything. But something held me back, refrained me.      

                In a sea of those black, violet eyes they caught and stolen my breath away; seeped me into a parallel universe with me dying for that fresh air back again. But I knew—that even if I didn’t get that breath he would come rescuing me anyway…something in the way he—

                I shake my head, ridding the thought I dare to even begin to describe.

                All my senses drew near him, that’s for certain.

                But why? I don’t even know the man.     

                A cool defiance slams into my face. I can sense, practically feel the hatred weeping of every poor of Troy’s body. Those muscles tense in his big soft hands as he clenches and unclenches them. There’s a tension that’s practically rubbing off him and onto me. Odd, Troy has never done that before.

                “I said did anyone see how fricken dame right sexy that guy was?! Jesus! He was porn—”

                I scuff, drawling out of the mucky water of my reverie. That very voice can probably drive every water bug, snake, and frog out from their little untouched pond.  “Nobody gives a damn, Izzy.”

                She raises a crooked brow. “Obviously. I know you can hear all those oo’s and aww’s from every single girl in here.” She pauses smiling one of her I’m-a-know-it-all-don’t-you-dare-tell-me-otherwise expressions. “Aw, but they seem to love you, Avala.” An icy brick of sarcasm leaks from her clenched teeth. “Once again. Avala gets the man.”

                There it is again. Not just from Troy but from Leonor who practically slams down her coffee and tensed every single one of her muscles to not turn and spat at the girl in corner who’s walking on thinning ice that begins to crack and melt in the early form spring time. A spillage of droplets falls from the side landing on the white clenched knuckles of Leonor’s fist. She seems to hardly notice as she fundamentally focuses on something in the distance behind me. I suddenly get the feeling that maybe I should turn around. But something inside of me tells me best not to get too curious.

                And that girl walking on the thinnest ice seems unfazed. “Figures. I guess guys like you and your big boobs. I guess that’s what you are only good for.”

                Troy tenses, knuckles white, muscles practically ripping through his forearms. Poppy cringes, taking a precaution to slowly deflect away from Izzy’s overbearing presence.

                I scowl, determined with bit of entity to keep a safe guard away from her. “Declan,” I spat. “How about you and Leonor go check out his place while Poppy and I—”

                “I don’t give a rats ass about that bastard.”

                “Aw,” I say almost too delightedly. “Moments ago you practically wanted to fuck him up,” I roll the word slowly and with an every bit of revulsion. Troy leans in touching his lips to my ear. I ignore his hissed warning. “I guess with you what’s ever better that comes your way, you’ll follow like a prostitute you are.”