🦋MIA🦋
A soft slap lands on my cheek, abruptly jolting me from the depths of sleep and I push the hand away only for it to return for another slap, landing gently on my face once more. I groan in frustration, a mixture of annoyance and confusion washing over me. Slowly, I pry my eyes open, struggling to adjust to the light filtering through the room. I find someone peering back at me with big, bright blue eyes, her gaze locked onto mine. Her intense stare catches me off guard and I scream, only for her to scream too, her body recoiling as she quickly moves away from me. Squinting my eyes, I notice it's Quincy, Lucas's sister. She has a peculiar way of waking people from their slumber, by slapping them softly on the cheek.
"Good morning. You're lazy." She points towards the bathroom door, handing me a new toothbrush. "Lucas wants you to go and shower. Make sure you brush your teeth well too, hygiene comes first."
I chuckle taking the toothbrush from her hand and feeling its bristles against my fingertips as I get out of bed. Lucas's plush silk sheets draped over the bed and cozy duvets are incredibly inviting, making it difficult for me to leave their embrace. His familiar and intoxicating scent that's all over the bed is also addictive, I just wanted to stay surrounded by it. "Good morning Quincy. I'm not lazy, I just love my sleep."
"That's what lazy people say." She shrugs as I glance at the white tshirt, high waist denim shorts with white sneakers and denim cap she has on. Her long silky hair is also styled perfectly, each strand perfectly in place as it cascades down her shoulders. I smile to myself noticing how much she resembles her brother, especially the big blue bright eyes that have so much light and life in them, captivating anyone who looks into them.
The door opens and Lucas walks in with sunglasses in hand, Quincy taking them from him and putting them on before looking up at her brother. "How do I look?"
"You look cute and amazing." He smiles at her and she smiles back adoringly. "Don't give dad a hard time at the mall today. He already told me how cheeky you are."
"I never give dad a hard time at the mall. Okay, only a little bit but I stopped." Quincy frowns and Lucas pinches her cheek playfully, eliciting a small giggle from her and straightening her denim cap for her, making sure it sits just right on her head. He gets down on one knee and ties her shoelaces properly for her, fastening them. "Your friend is pretty." She says to her brother while gazing at me.
"She really is." Lucas reaches into his wallet, retrieving some money and carefully placing it inside Quincy's small Mickey Mouse coin purse. "If dad runs out of money, give him these."
"Okay." She hugs him and skips adorably out of the room.
Lucas sits on the couch scrolling through his phone as I make the bed. "You and Quincy have a cute relationship and strong bond. It's admirable."
"Yes, we do have a special bond. Quincy is not just my sister, she's my bestfriend, my confidante and my partner in crime. I'm capable of doing anything to make sure she's okay and has everything she needs. She's my only sister who has a piece of my heart and I love her so much, more than words can express."
I enter the bathroom, enjoying a refreshing shower and taking the time to brush my teeth. With the towel wrapped around my body and another one around my hair I step out of the bathroom finding Lucas still sitting on the couch, engrossed in his phone. I don't have anything to wear since my dress is still wet and hasn't been washed yet. "I have nothing to wear," I mumble awkwardly, feeling a bit self conscious about my predicament and he tears his gaze away from the phone and looks at me.
"I already did laundry, so your dress is clean," he points at my dress that's neatly folded on the couch next to him.
"I can't wear the same outfit twice in a row." I mutter and Lucas stares at me in disbelief, my statement catching him off guard and his stare lingering on me. In truth, I've become accustomed to a lifestyle where wearing the same clothes in a row or repeatedly is simply not part of the equation. Whether it's due to my own desire for novelty or the influence of my personal stylists, there's always been a constant influx of new garments to choose from.
But Lucas's response cuts through my accustomed world of sartorial indulgence like a sharp blade. "Okay, you can walk around naked if you want. I don't give a fuck." He dismisses me, going back to scrolling through his phone. All I can do is stare at him this time in disbelief, having nothing to say after what he has just told me. I'm at a loss for words.
"You're so rude." My frown deepens as I pick my dress, stomping my feet back to the bathroom to put it on.
Lucas quickly gets up holding my hand and making me face him. His grip is firm, making it impossible for me to escape the intensity of his gaze. "I know you're spoilt rotten by your parents and everyone else around you but I'm not going to be a part of that shit. After doing the laundry and washing your dress for you, instead of atleast being grateful, you're complaining instead and that's not okay. You're throwing a tantrum over something as trivial as a dress," he lets out a heavy sigh, letting go of my hand. "You're so entitled."
He's right, he took his time to wash my dress himself and instead on being thankful, I'm complaining. "I'm sorry for complaining. Thank you." I tell him and he nods giving me my heels too that he already cleaned. I can't believe he did all this for me while I was asleep.
Entering the bathroom I slip on the dress and heels before joining Lucas back in the den. Remembering that one of my small bags that I went with to London is still inside the jeep, I leave the house going to fetch it before returning to the den. Luckily some of my body lotions are still inside so I lotion my body, brushing my hair, the bristles of the brush gently untangling the strands as I run it through my locks. Finally, I reach for the new gold rose necklace that I bought during the trip, fastening it around my neck, the delicate chain resting against my collarbone.
Lucas comes and settles on the couch beside me, his phone still in hand and his legs spread apart. As usual, he looks stunning and eye catching in the black tshirt that's hugging his well built physique, black pants, black and white checkered trench coat and the immaculately clean white sneakers he has on. The scent of his cologne is clouding me, the fragrance undeniably masculine and addictive I find myself breathing it in. It's a blend of woody and musky tones, leaving a lingering trail wherever he goes. Eager to mess with him, I snatch his phone from his hand, teasingly moving away with it.
"Mia give me back my phone, now." He demands through gritted and pearly white teeth but I only smile, not giving him the phone. How can someone have such perfect set of teeth, as if meticulously crafted by a master sculptor? The edges are sharp and defined, like the pristine edges of a freshly cut diamond.
"If you want it, come get it."
Still staring at me, he gets up moving closer to me and I hastily take a few steps back, my heart racing. "Chipmunk, I don't have time for your silly games. Give me back my phone."
"I don't want to give it to you." I smile still holding the phone away from him as he gazes at me, in impatience.
Lucas swears under his breath, looking away before glancing at me again, his face blank and his eyebrows slightly raised. "You're clearly testing my patience. Mia, I'm not in the mood for any of this."
Laughing hysterically, I wave his phone at him. "Lucas stop yapping nonsense and come get your phone. You're so noisy, only talks with no action." I add and he lunges at me, something I totally didn't see coming. His outstretched arms reach for my sides and before I can react, we stumble backwards, collapsing onto the softness of the bed with him on top of me. As the impact sends a jolt of excitement through my body, my hand instinctively releases its grip on the phone and it bounces harmlessly on the sheets. He starts tickling me, making me laugh uncontrollably as I squirm under him, my body writhing in a futile attempt to escape his relentless assault. "Stop, I can't take it anymore." I let out breathlessly but he only tickles me more as we laugh heartily together. "I'm going to pee if you don't stop!" I manage to gasp between fits of laughter and he finally stops tickling me.
"Don't pee on my bed." He says as I smile at him, my morning already made just from this craziness. He gazes deep into my eyes with him still on top of me. Looking back at him, my heart starts beating faster just from his piercing gaze on me. Breathing becomes a conscious effort for the both of us, our chests rising and falling in unison. Neither of us dares to look away, for fear of breaking the fragile spell that's holding us captive. It's as if we're engaging in a silent conversation, speaking volumes through the unbroken connection of our eyes. Words have been rendered unnecessary, and our souls are communicating in a language beyond mere speech. As the world outside continues to spin, we remain locked in this wordless exchange.
Lucas rests his head on my shoulder before biting my neck, making me laugh once again, trying to push him away. I turn us so I'm the one now on top of him, my hand on his neck. He sticks out his tongue at me and laughs heartily, something I adore so much. Lifting his tshirt, I bite his chest where the wolf tattoo is and he laughs harder, pushing my head away. I hold his skin between my teeth, his fingers tugging on my hair. "Mia, that fucking hurts, you're crazy!"
Lucas turns us again and we end up falling on the white woolen rug on the floor with him back on top of me. Holding my hands together on top of my head, he attacks my neck again. "Get off me!" I laugh squirming beneath him. He suddenly licks my neck, rolling his tongue on the skin and my breath hitches, a soundless moan escaping my lips. Slowly he looks into my eyes and I look back at his dark ones.
He goes back to my neck and keeps his mouth pressed on the tender spot, breathing in the scent of my skin. "You smell so good." He kisses my earlobe, the nape of my neck slowly to my jawline and finally his wet lips meet mine in a fiery kiss. Hard, soft and demanding, hypnotizing us both and we moan in each other's mouth. "I just want to rip your dress apart and kiss every inch of your beautiful body." He murmurs roughly pressing his body against mine as I gasp, holding him tightly to me. "You're precious and special to me." He adds, looking into my eyes again, our foreheads touching. I wrap my arms around him, burying my face on his chest. Just like last night, his kisses stir up all my emotions and heart to my soul. It's special and consuming.
Before Lucas and I can make any other move, the door opens and a man steps inside. He glances down at Lucas and I on the rug, witnessing the position we're in. "Dad can't you see I'm in the middle of something here." Lucas says to him while still on top of me, holding my hands together on top of my head.
"Get off her before I knock you the fuck out." Lucas gets off me helping me up and I straighten my dress nervously facing his dad.
"You should have knocked first." Lucas mumbles to him and he crosses his arms against his chest, gazing back and forth between us. I remain silent, surprised at how casually the two of them talk to each other.
"You never bring girls home. Not only that, I didn't know you finally allowed one inside your den." His dad states, staring straight at me this time.
"Mia, this is my annoying dad but I love him anyway. Dad meet Mia, a special woman in my life that I'm crazy about." Lucas introduces us to each other and I smile to myself. What a unique and detailed introduction
The middle aged man laughs softly, leaning casually against the frame of the door and raising his eyebrow at his son's introduction. His eyes, a shade of amber, assess me with scrutiny and amusement. As he takes in my features, his expression slowly softens, and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. His voice, rough but surprisingly gentle, carries a hint of gravelly warmth as he speaks. "A special woman in your life that you're crazy about," he teases affectionately. Can this get any more awkward for me? "Looks like you finally found someone special to bring home."
"Yes dad, I'm crazy about this beautiful woman next to me." Lucas gushes happily to his dad as I stare at him, overwhelmed and deeply touched by his sincerity . "I want to hug and kiss her all the fucking time, hold her in my arms because she's amazing. Dad, Mia is driving me insane and I love every single second of it."
I can't believe this is father and son talking to each other. In witnessing this intimate exchange them, I can't help but be moved by the purity and openness of their bond. Lucas's willingness to share his most most profound emotions with his father speaks volumes about the strength of their relationship and the trust that exists between them.
There's a twinkle of pride in Mr. Robinson's eyes as he looks at his Lucas. Turning back to me, he extends his calloused hand in greeting, his grip frim and reassuring. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mia. Any woman that can put up with my son's antics deserves a warm welcome in my home. So make yourself at home."
"It's a pleasure to meet you too."
He nods in acknowledgement, his eyes flickering over to Lucas and laughs softly. "I guess you two are really close to the point of doing whatever you were doing on the rug when I came in." This is getting more awkward for me now. "Quincy and I are going to the mall. Lock up when you leave and call me if you need anything." He walks out of the den, closing the door gently behind him. Lucas then bursts out laughing after seeing the look on my face. What an adorable moment between a father and son.
***
We finally leave the den going straight to the kitchen. "There are so many breakfast delicacies you can choose from and eat. My dad always goes all out when it comes to cooking. Serve yourself whatever you want." He says to me as I sit down at the dining table, already salivating at all the food that smell so good I just want to eat them all. Serving myself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee, I opt for some golden brown french toasts, perfectly crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, dusted with a light sprinkling of powdered sugar that's glistening in the light. Next to the french toasts, I add a generous portion of fluffy scrambled eggs, their creamy texture inviting me in with their rich, buttery aroma. And then there's bacon, cooked to a crispy perfection with each strip glistening with savoury juices, creamy slices of avocado on the side.
Lucas sits opposite me, staring at me as I eat since he already had breakfast with his family before I woke up. "Is this how you always eat, like you're in a hurry and running out of time?" He asks in confusion and I slow down my hasty eating in embarrassment, placing the fork aside.
"These past years my life has been about work and tight schedules. I've learnt to always hurry things up so I don't waste time. Everything has been a routine for me." I admit and he frowns instantly.
"Mia, you're only nineteen years old. I wonder why your parents put so much pressure on you all these years. There is so much more to life than money, status and power, you know. What matters the most is happiness." Walking to my side and sitting next to me, he picks the fork feeding me some of the scrambled eggs. "You don't have to hurry things up anymore. Just take it slow and enjoy yourself. You took back control of your life remember, so do everything according to your own pace, exactly the way you want. Savour the moments and enjoy the little things."
I look at the scrambled eggs on the fork he's holding out to me, taking a bite and savouring the taste as I let his words sink in. It's as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I hadn't even realized I was carrying. His words echo in my mind, challenging the beliefs and expectations that have been engrained in me since I was young. Money, status, power, they have always been the measures of success in my family's eyes. But now, sitting here with him, I'm beginning to see things differently.
Happiness, such a simple word yet so elusive at times. I'd been so focused on achieving the goals set out for me, trying to meet the high standards imposed by others, that I'd forgotten to consider what truly matters to me.
But now, I have the power to shape my own path and live on my own terms. It's both empowering and daunting.
"I can eat myself, you don't have to feed me." I smile shyly at Lucas but he doesn't give me the fork back, continuing to feed me.
"You're my baby, remember? You said it yourself." He reminds me, referring to what I told him at the beach last night. His affectionate tone carries a sense of possession, and I realize he had taken my words quite literally.
"I didn't mean it like that." I chuckle and he stuffs my mouth with a forkful of eggs to shut me up. He's so mean sometimes.
"Just eat up." He pours more orange juice into my glass for me, adding more avacado slices to my plate.
"I'm sorry you have to take care of a grown woman like me." I whisper, averting my gaze, not wanting to meet his eyes, fearing the sympathy I might find there. He feels bad for me and I don't like it. The last thing I want is to burden him or anyone else with my struggles.
Lucas remains silent just looking into my eyes and trying to read my thoughts. And then, with a tenderness that melts away my unease, he leans in and presses a warm kiss on my forehead. "You tend to apologize alot, even when you shouldn't. You have nothing to be sorry for." He sets aside the fork and leans in closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear.
While eating I steal glances at him from time to time, smiling constantly and my heart swelling with affection.
Finishing my breakfast, I fetch his Christmas gifts from the backseat of the Jeep, carrying them to the den. These past days, he distanced himself from me so I couldn't give him the gifts at that time. I had to give him the needed space to gather his thoughts and find solace within himself.
Placing the gifts on the table, he also picks the ones he got for me. "Your Christmas gift." He gives me one of them and I unwrap it carefully, peeling away the decorative paper, the box revealing two baggy hoodies, one in sleek black and the other in crisp white. "When we were in campus you told me that you still haven't bought enough sweaters for the cold. I don't want you to freeze so I bought two hoodies for you." Holding them up, I notice something extraordinary. On the back of each hoodie, vibrant blue butterflies are adorning the fabric, their delicate wings spread wide in an elegant display. The wings are shimmering with a captivating and ethereal glow, as if they're about to take flight at any moment. "I had that done for you. I knew you'd love the blue butterflies on them."
"Thank you." Running my fingers gently on over the embroidered butterflies, I can feel the quality of the fabric, soft and cozy to the touch. I can't believe Lucas did this for me. He took his time to buy these hoodies then had blue butterflies printed on them. They're now my favourite hoodies. Sniffing them I feel how good they smell. He already washed them.
"One more present." He gives me the other present and I unwrap it eargely. It's a snowglobe with a charming snowman and Christmas tree inside. The snowman has a carrot nose and a top hat standing proudly next to the beautifully decorated Christmas tree adorned with twinkling lights and colourful ornaments. Delicate snowflakes are gently falling around the figures, tiny footprints left in the snow. In childlike wonder, I give the snowglobe a gentle shake, watching the snow swirl and dance around the snowman and tree, creating a mesmerizing spectacle within the confined space. "Thank you."
Placing the hoodies and snowglobe aside, I pick my bag unzipping it and taking out a treasure trove of drawing and painting supplies I bought in London. Graphite pencils neatly arranged from the lightest 2H to the darkest 6B, watercolour paints, fine tipped brushes peeking out from their protective sheaths, their slender bristles poised and ready to dance across the canvas or paper, drawing papers, pristine and waiting to be marked by his creativity, portable easel standing tall and sturdy, and a book filled with the works of renowned artists throughout history. From the masters of renaissance to the contemporary visionaries, each page is adorned with breathtaking images, inviting him to study their techniques and ignite his artistic growth. "These aren't your Christmas gift. I bought these supplies for you because you love painting. I hope they inspire you to create masterpieces that bring joy to your soul." They're many, I couldn't help myself and bought lots of them.
"Thank you." Lucas says, picking one of the graphite pencils.
"This here, is your Christmas gift." I give him the beautifully wrapped big box and he unties ribbon, removing the lid of the gift. Inside, nestled in a bed of soft tissue paper, lay a magnificent black custom helmet, a wolf painted on the back. I had it specially made for him. He lifts the helmet delicately, his hands tracing the smooth curves and contours as the wolf's piercing eyes stare back at him. Then he places it back on the table and hugs me tightly, kissing me softly and we both smile in between the kiss. I'm so lucky for having the most amazing person in my life.