AN: 1/3 updates today... see you soon.
********************
We're classic together
Like Egyptian gold
********************
HARRY
"I've never been to South America before." Bentley says, hand gripping mine as we finally get off of the plane.
Leaving the building without her hurt, I understood her reluctance and I knew that I'd have to keep careful and calm because as much as she tried to show she was okay, I knew she wasn't.
She told me that Allergy and the rest of them convinced her to come, and surprisingly, Dorian was the one who gave the final shove.
I'd have to thank Little D one of these days because there was nothing like the feeling of being with Ben.
I'm hoping this trip will be similar to Lake Como... I just wanted her to have a good time and relax, and I wanted us to end Luna once and for all. She had practically brushed Ben and I aside because she had actually scared us this time, and what happened to Bentley was enough to distract her from what she originally wanted.
Complete and utter destruction of Luna Sade.
The flight was a long one, a whole fourteen hours in the very back of the plane were insane, but we just treated it like a regular day. She slept for a good half of it, so we were well rested for the Buenos Aires time difference. No jet lag, and that was the best part of it all.
"You haven't been to a lot of places. I told you you'd get to see them one day." I say.
We walk through customs, getting out to baggage claim quickly and walking towards the rent-a-car lot. I was a member of the service so I could just pick out cars and register them for myself. "Pick one."
"You shouldn't be giving me full liberty of this." She chuckles, walking all the way towards the exotic models. "The Chrysler... I'm feeling vintage."
"You're always feeling vintage." I tease, and she shakes her head, opening the driver's side of the door and grabbing the keys from the box beneath the seat. "Sure, Ben, I'll put your ridiculously heavy bag in the trunk for you." I say in annoyance.
"Thank you, Mr. Belvedere." She says, and I shoot her a glare through the rear view as I load out bags in the back. "What? It was funny!"
"You're the worst." I let her know, opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat, doing my seatbelt as she takes off. "Do you even know where you're going?"" I ask, knowing she has no idea where she's driving.
"I just want to see what it looks like. Is it pretty? I know that the tango is from here. But the city.... I've never really looked into it." She tells me, leaving the parking garage and turning to look at me for directions.
"Take a left, go straight until you see the lights." I tell her, and she nods. "Buenos Aires is like a lost city of Europe in South America. I think you'll like it. They have funny accents."
"You have a funny accent."
"No, I don't have an accent, you do." I tell her, and she scoffs. "I'm going to play some music."
"But we already listened to all the Stevie songs!" She groans, firmly holding the wheel.
Fuck she always held onto it so tight... why the fuck did she do that? It stressed me out, so I kept my eyes off of her hands and on that pretty face of hers. We had spent the last few weeks listening to the rest of Stevie Nicks' discography and I knew she liked it, but I hadn't even brought up Fleetwood Mac to her.
I had a feeling she'd like the band a lot.
"Well, there's still a whole other side. Fleetwood Mac!" I tell her excitedly, pulling my cable out and plugging it into the adapter on the car. The best thing about vintage cars was that they'd modernize them for moments like these.
"What the fuck is a Filetwood Mac?"
"Did you just say 'Filetwood'? What the fuck?" I say, choking on my laughs. "Are you joking?"
"No, but if you don't stop laughing at me I'll make you walk to where we're staying." She deadpans, looking to her right and seeing the skyline.
A few skyscrapers littered the distance but the real magic were the old buildings we'd be driving by soon.
"Take a right, all the way down. We're staying at the Palacio Duhau." I tell her, and her face lights up in my Spanish.
"Spanish too?"
"Surprisingly, it's my worst language. You won't be hearing it much." I admit.
"What's your best language?"
"Italian or Japanese, probably... pretty good at French, too." I tell her, and she comes to a stop at the red light.
"Y-you speak Japanese?" She asks, eyes a little wide.
"Uh, yes... why?"
"Can you teach me? One day?" She asks shyly, and I feel my heart surge at her innocent request. "I never learned, that's why my parents and I weren't, uh, we weren't close... I couldn't really communicate with them. I refused to learn."
Her openness isn't anything new, but she hadn't spoken too much about anything too personal lately. It was more me now, little stories about growing up in England... Emmy... some of the races I used to compete in.
"Of course I'll teach you." I say quickly, smiling a bit at her.
"Careful, if you smile too much I'll think you've gone soft." She teases, stepping on the gas when the light flicked to green.
We drove for a few more seconds, a Fleetwood Mac song bumping lightly in the back as I directed her to the hotel. We arrived quickly, and gave the car to the valet, a bellman taking the bags as I checked us in. She stood at the elevators waiting for me as I came to her with keys.
Her eyes took in the marble and expensive décor. There was a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling over a green and brown stone floor, but those brown eyes shocked mine when they met. Excitement flurried around her and I knew she was way more excited than she'd let on.
It was around 11 PM Buenos Aires time, and the best thing about this city is that it comes alive at night... The best clubs, speakeasies and bars open up now. "You tired?" I ask, pressing the button to hail the elevator.
"Nope." She replies quickly, popping the 'p' with her lips and stepping into the elevator. "What do you have in mind?"
"Red wine and steak. We're in Argentina baby, no way I'm rotting away in a hotel room." I tell her, and she smiles.
"Sounds like a plan to me. You're paying though."
"I'm always fucking paying for you."
"It's what sugar daddies do." She winks, stepping out of the elevator and waiting for me to lead us to the room.
I open the door, and she walks in quickly, opening her bag to get a change of clothes.
"I'm going to shower, I smell like an airplane." She says, and I nod, not moving to join her because, well, we haven't really been close like that in a while.
She walks into the bathroom, shutting the door and turning the shower on. I sit on the edge of the bed for a minute, waiting for her to come out so I can shower. I look at the sofa, which has a pull out bed in it.
I know that's where I'll be sleeping tonight. The last thing I wanted or needed was for Ben to wake up in the midst of panic because I was next to her. That night was tough, it hurt a bit but I knew it's not what she wanted... she didn't mean it.
She told me she didn't understand why that happened to her, but I knew it was all about control. Bentley loved it, and so did I. The only way she was willing to give it up was when we were intimate and I didn't know if we'd be getting any of that soon.
She had scrambled to gain back some control after Luna confiscated it by burning down her repair shop and she had gotten some of it back, but there was a void I knew would be hard to fill. It wasn't my job to fill it, only she could do that, but I wanted to be there while she tried.
I just wanted her to try, and she was.
She's here with me, trying to get that power over her life back.
The door creaked open, Bentley exiting in the fluffy white towel and walking past me to her bag. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her as she dropped her towel, revealing her smooth skin and curves as she started to get dressed, pulling her usual lace thong up her legs and standing up straight.
"I bet you missed this didn't you?" She says, back still turned to me as she turns her head to the left, looking at me from her peripheral vision.
I stay silent, keeping my eyes on hers as she runs her hands down her waist teasingly, and turning her vision back towards her bags. "What? Nothing to say?"
She slips on a black cotton dress, no bra, just her lacy thong and she lets down the bun she had been holding her hair in. She pulls out her sneakers, a pair of socks and a jacket, moving hypnotically as she approaches me, standing over me, dropping the stuff on my lap.
"Don't think we'd make it to dinner if you wanted to hear everything I have to say." I tell her, watching carefully as she pulls the jacket over her shoulders, eyes never leaving mine.
"Well, we can't have that, can we?" she whispers, grabbing the socks and bending over, her head lowering and lowering as she pulls them over her ankles.
"Stop being a tease, Bentley."
"Oh wow, full name and everything." She laughs. "Maybe I'll torture you a little more..." she starts, but I interrupt her when I grab her forearm.
"You really don't want to play with me now, baby." I warn, and she smirks, the same glow in her eyes that she used to have pulsating as she moves her forearm over my shoulder, sitting over my lap.
"You know I love games... but I'm fucking starving." She whispers, nose brushing my jaw. "Go shower."
She stands up quickly, hearing me throw my body back against the bed in frustration. I can hear her breathy laugh as she starts to brush through her hair, and I stand up quickly, getting in the shower, the water on the coldest setting possible.
****************
"What is this place?" She asks as we walk into the restaurant, instantly being seated.
There's an open floor in the center, and I'm excited to watch as the place starts to build up as time progresses.
"Hidden steakhouse of sorts." I tell her, watching the host pull out her chair for her as I sit down.
The lighting is dim, the music is light, and there's a hum of people speaking lowly, their accents discernable throughout the restaurant.
We're asked to order on right away, and she orders her food before me, the waiter bringing us glasses of Malbec and leaving us alone as the food comes. The food came quickly, and the moans of delicious satisfaction that slipped out of her mouth were enough to make me laugh and ask her how much she was enjoying her dinner. We spoke about everything and nothing for a good thirty minutes before the lighting got even darker.
"What's going on?"
"Watch..." I say slowly, watching as a line of men and women came from opposite sides in the traditional clothes of a dancer.
Black heels, red, blue and black dresses.... The traditional side part in every woman's hair. The men were in the black and white vinyl shoes, black suits and unbuttoned undershirts. They met in the middle, stepping carefully to the beat of the song. Strings, an accordion, a piano.
They start their dance, swinging around each other and keeping the intensity and drama as they dance hypnotically. It took everything in me to tear my eyes away from them to look at Bentley, who was under their spell.
Her eyes were shining as she observed, her finger tapping an eight count against the edge of her plate... as if she was counting along to the beat. Their first song came to an end and she didn't move her eyes off of them, and now I was under her spell. She had never looked at something with such interest... It was almost longing.
"Sinner," I start, and she tears her gaze away from them to look at me. "What are you thinking about?"
She smiles at her glass of wine before taking a sip, and I bring mine to my lips as she speaks.
"I used to dance."
"You can dance?" I ask sarcastically.
"What can't I do?"
"Very funny."
"I'm not joking. I used to dance." She says, her voice extremely serious.
"But, but you hate music? And you used to dance?"
"Yep. That's why I didn't like it... but I can dance, how do you think I'm so flexible?" She teases, making me chuckle. "I hated it, honestly. My mom made me do it my whole life so we could have something to talk about but... well, I refused to talk to her about that too."
Her face was walking the line of somber and happy. I knew her memories of her family were bittersweet. She blamed herself for their relationship, and that couldn't be easy... I couldn't imagine having parents and not clinging to them.
But maybe that's just my lack of parents talking.
She circled the rim of her wine glass with her ring finger before I asked a question.
"What kind of dance?"
"Tango, ballet, contemporary... I did it all. Allie used to do it with me at one point, but she dropped dance for robotics." She answers quickly.
"That's why my buns are always so neat." She laughs, referring to the hairstyle she'd wear occasionally. "That's why I knew tango was from here earlier, because I used to do it. I was really fucking good too."
"Cocky."
"You told me once that champions deserve recognition... When we get back to Oakland I'll pull out the trophies from my recitals." She taunts, and I give her a challenging look, which I replace with a smile after her recalling my reasoning for getting Arlo tattooed on my arm.
"I stopped the year before they died. You should've seen my mother's face when I told her. I replaced the dancing with racing full time."
"You'll have to show me one day." I tell her, leaning back in my seat.
"If you're really lucky, maybe."
********************************
AN:
I AM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT TWO CHAPTERS!!
FOLLOW MY TWITTER (RBLLSTYLES) IF YOU WANT TO ASK QUESTIONS, SEE HINTS, SNEAK PEEKS, AND ALL THE GOODIES.
SEE YOU THERE.
ARABELLA.