The Sinners We Love |18+

[7] wisteria

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wisteria: expanding consciousness

Some days I just wanted to sell myself.

Save enough cash for all the luxuries of the world. Like today. My eyes were hit by the roaring calm of the smooth aesthetic black that painted the Rolls-Royce. And it reminded me of all the things money could buy. And all the things it could hide.

An abrupt harsh pull startled me. Harshly gripping my arm Luca pulled me forward. His somewhat expected yet odd behavior already making me doubt my decision.

"I can walk." I suggested off-handedly.

"Too slow." He complained, off-handedly.

Luca did not spare me a glimpse. There was a permanent ink of suspicion marred on his features from the time he had stepped outside the gallery.

He roughly opened the passenger door and let me go. Rubbing the skin below my elbow, I muttered. "Five minutes." I counted. Five minutes and I was already regretting it.

His disinterested gaze, discarded my little countdown and swept behind me. With the cold demeanor only Luca could muster under the prime of heat, he said. "Get inside." His phone set near his ears. Annoyance embedding his lips, that twitched when I did not make a move to get inside. Luca cocked his head, his eyes squinting under the heated rays of the Sun as he closed the distance between us, his spare hand placed on the car. Caging me between. "What did I say?"

I would have still weighed my options had I not seen my death in his eyes. Devoid of warmth. In the calm of the grey eerie night of the pits of his eyes something wicked sparkled, only eliciting a chill down my spine under the scorching Sun. I staggered, and almost immediately got inside the car.

If I was going to die, I'd rather experience the interiors of a Rolls-Royce first.

Arctic white carpet with a thickness that screamed expensive laid on the damn floor. The floor. I would have used them as my blanket. God was unfair. If there was any. My seconds of calm reverberated along my ears as the door shut with the loudest of noise. I wasn't even the owner but I was concerned about the car alright.

"I would never do this to you." I murmured, tracing my fingers along the closed door, feeling the handles.

When Luca got inside, he did not seem agitated. Just in a rush. His demeanor still distracted, slightly brooding but his hands on the wheel were calm.

"What happened?" I queried, quite rightfully so.

Luca tore his eyes from the road, and they fell on my body. "Put your seatbelt on."

I could blame the thermodynamics, because as if to maintain the equilibrium inside the closed space of the chilled car, I felt the annoyance lining his lips infiltrate my body. Annoyance-dynamics, perhaps. "You make accidents seem more endearing." I confided. And Luca delivered. With a sudden jerk of the vehicle, I smoothly glided forward. "what the—" I gulped, flailing for the seatbelt.

Fearful, I looked up at him for some assurance to see a smug smile tainting his lips. He straightened his arm on the wheel, rolling up his already folded sleeves until they reached his elbows.

"You make me wanna jump out of the car. And that's rich, cause I really like the car." I confided, one more time, eliciting a soft chuckle from him.

Luca probably had a degradation kink for all I knew. "I did not know you were suicidal."

The cityscape passed us. And we did it too. "Where are we going? Please enlighten."