The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

18

I felt tired.

Wobbly from Angelo's ministrations.

My body felt light from all the yelling I did but-

But-

I am pretty sure that wasn't the reason I fainted.

There was some pungent smell all over the room. I think back.

It was sweet.

Too sweet. I think.

It tickled my nose as soon as I started the tap and I felt a bit dizzy.

As if the smell was closing the active part of my brain.

Angelo returns, his body clad in a black silk dress robe, front open paired with the matching set pajama bottoms.

"Angelo?" I whispered getting his attention.

He walked toward me and reclaimed his seat once again, hand brushing my unruly hair back behind my ear. "Sí, tadpole?"

"Last night." I say frowning, thinking and rethinking it all over again.

Am I mistaking something?

I am surely not mistaking the smell.

It was a smell that belonged in laboratories and hospital not in the club.

It wasn't a cologne, not a perfume-

Or a narcotic.

"Last night?" He asks, still caressing my hair, my sandwich half eaten and forgotten in my right hand.

"Last night, in the bathroom-" I say looking up at him, for the first time this morning.

Really book at him.

He looks exceptionally handsome, with his longer then usual hair s mess, jaw and chin covered with stubble.

Eyes tired yet holding strength and power in them.

He pushes his hair back with one hand, making it fall on either side of his head in the same way it rested before.

Why can't I look away?

"What?" He asks.

"Hmm?" I ask.

"Why are looking at me like that?" He asks finishing with a chuckle.

Like a psychopath?

"You look good." I say honestly.

"Oh?" Angelo raises an eyebrow almost teasing me. "I look good do, I?"

I nod. "Really good."

He chuckles his hand that was busy caressing my hair cups my cheeks and he bends placing a kiss on my lips.

I let him.

Sometimes his kisses make me feel good.

Alive. On the inside.

As if there was still a tiny little bit of a ray of hope.

But that's what scary isn't it?

That tiny itty bitty ray of hope.

It is ready to fuck everything I gain.

Standby like a machine gun.

"What about last night, tadpole?" He asks. "Do you feel sick?"

I shake my head. "I don't think I collapsed because I was sick."

"No?" He asks.

I shake my head.