5 years ago - the first date.
Black heels. Black dress. No underwear.
Okay, just kidding. I wore underwear, but I almost forgot with how nervous I was.
My parents weren't home; thank God. I just have to make sure that I'm back home before they get back.
My blue eyes danced to the clock above my bed - 9:59 pm.
I need to take some Xanax to calm down. Or at least I would, but I'm too scared to even hit a joint.
A knock came from my front door, and electricity exploded in my body. I bit my bottom lip while I smiled, but then quickly stopped since I didn't want to mess up my lipgloss.
I walked carefully down the stairs, not wanting to trip and paralyze myself before my first date.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I stopped for a moment. I took a deep breath, fixed my dress, and made sure my hair was okay. I straightened it - something I rarely do.
I opened the door, and my stomach instantly warmed.
Ezra. Deep blue suit. Flowers.
"Fuck, Lilac," his deep voice spoke. "You look so goddamn beautiful."
He held the bouquet out for me to take. Roses.
"I didn't want to get you lilacs again. Every single date we go on, I will give you a different kind of flower," he spoke as I admired the petals. "Until I've given you every single flower that exists on this earth."
I held the bouquet to my chest, wondering how anybody could speak such a sweet sentence to me.
I finally spoke, "Thank you, Ezra."
My eyes looked him up and down. All that was lighting him up was my shitty porch light, but he still looked nothing less than perfect. A single strand of his black jelled hair fell onto his forehead, and his mahogany cologne reached my nose from here.
He held his hand out for me to take, "I hope you're hungry."
Starving. My parents left nothing on their plates today - for any of their meals.
"Only a little," I replied, setting my hand in his.
Large. Strong. His hand held onto mine as we walked toward his car, and I could feel the veins on the front of his hand.
He opened the car door for me, and I gave him a smile before getting in. He rounded the car and got into the driver's seat.
He pulled away, driving off into the night.
I was the first to speak up, "We're not going to be running from the cops again, right?"
He smirked, "No. Tonight, I want to get to know you."
I watched his side profile as he drove. I wanted to know more about Ezra Atlas, too.
The car drove until we came to a stop in a gravel parking lot. It was empty besides one car, and the headlights lit up green trees in front of us until he turned the car off.
I started to give him quiet glances. A forest?
I didn't even drink my favorite coffee on the day I'm going to get murdered.
He reached into the backseat, and I turned to quickly open the door. Maybe I'd be able to outrun him and not get murdered in his expensive car. My blood would definitely stain his seats - so maybe I should stay in here. Maybe-
"I hope you like what I've brought you," he pulled a basket out of the backseat. "I thought we could eat dinner under the stars. I brought you steak; prepared by me this time."
I suddenly felt like an idiot for having those thoughts.
He got out of the car, and I did, too.
He met me on my side, holding the basket in his left hand, and grabbing my hand in his right. He began walking, and I followed close behind him.
The gravel path crunched beneath our feet as we walked, only stopping when we reached a picnic bench.
"Sit," he told me.
I sat down, and he opened the basket. Two steaks, pasta, and vegetables. One bottle of champagne.
He set my plate in front of me, and opened the bottle of champagne.
He sat across from me, and I bit into the food. My eyes widened, "You made this?"
"Mhm. Cooking is one of my hobbies," he opened up to me. "What are your hobbies, Lilac?"
I only had one.
"Painting," I told him. "I want to go to school for art, but-"
I stopped talking abruptly once I realized I was about to tell him that my parents aren't allowing for me to go to college.
"But?" he waited for the rest of my sentence.
I shook my head, "I just don't think college is for me. But I am 18, so I think it's something I should probably start thinking about. How old are you, Ezra?"
"20."
"And are you in college?"
"No, darling. I work."
"And what do you do?"
"I make sure things are in order and what not," he shrugged, making my eyebrows lower. "But tell me more about you, Lilac. Have you ever traveled?"
"No, I've never been outside of Portland," I told him. "But I'd love to travel."
"Where to?" he inquired as he ate.
"Everywhere," I smiled.
The look he gave me for a moment almost made me melt. He looked at me like I was expensive. Beautiful. Like he cared about what I said.
"You speak Bulgarian," I said after chewing. "How do you know it?"
"I used to live there. I moved to Portland when I was 18 for business," he told me. "Learned English in school growing up."
I set my fork down, a smile forming on my face. I said, "Teach me something in Bulgarian."
He thought for a second.
"ти си най-красивата жена, която съм виждал," he said.
[Translation: you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.]
I blinked. I have no idea how to pronounce what he just said.
Before I could attempt to say it, my head turned hearing footsteps approach. A man, in his 50s, stopped beside our table.
"Could you guys leave? I like to smoke here," he spoke.
I scoffed, "Hell no. Go find somewhere else to smoke."
"Fuck you," the guy replied. I rolled my eyes, what a weak insult.
Ezra suddenly stood up to his full height, "The fuck did you just say?"
His tone was different than I had ever heard before. Angier. Darker.
The man shifted uncomfortably. Ezra had at least 4 inches on him, and a hell of a lot more muscle.
The man just took a step back, and muttered, "Whatever."
His footsteps became quieter and quieter until eventually, he disappeared into the distance.
I let out a sigh before sipping my champagne. Ezra turned around, and I removed the bottle from my lips seeing his smile.
"What?" I asked.
"You're not scared to stand up for yourself. It's admirable," he spoke.
I shook my head and looked down. I never stood up for myself; at least not to my parents.
A breeze blew, and I shivered. In one swift motion, Ezras' suit jacket was now around me, his cologne transferring onto my clothes.
He sat across from me, once again. I couldn't believe how good of a cook he was. Going from eating nothing, to eating this food, felt like a shock.
"Favorite season?" he asked me.
"Spring," I told him.
"Favorite color?"
"Light blue."
"Biggest fear?"
"Flying in an airplane," I answered instantly. Just the thought of it made me feel sick.
He looked surprised at this. I was quick to say, "I know it's stupid to be scared of flying and want to travel at the same time - but maybe, I'll be able to get over my fear and see the world one day."
His eyes remained on me for a moment.
"You are something else," I heard him say quietly.
We continued eating until everything was gone. Besides the champagne, since I only had a little bit.
"I think it's time to get you home, Lilac," Ezra told me as the temperature started to become colder with the night.
I nodded in agreement and stood to my feet.
Ezra put everything back in the basket, and we began walking back to his car.
We traveled along the path, heading uphill.
As we walked, I tripped over God knows what. My hands skidded against the ground, but before the rest of my body could, Ezra's arm was wrapped around my waist.
He lifted me back up to my feet and looked at me with concern, "Are you okay, Lilac?"
I'm a fucking idiot. I should've fallen and rolled down the hill.
"Yea, I'm fi-"
"You're bleeding," he cut me off, noticing the blood on my hand from a rock. "Come on, I'll clean it for you. I'm not letting you go home injured."
"It's fine-"
"You're hurt, it's not fine," he disagreed calmly. "I'll clean it at my house."
The look on his face told me that I couldn't change his mind. I gave him a small nod, and he kept his hand on my lower back as we continued walking.
I felt relieved to see his car in the distance. But as we approached it, Ezra came to a stop and said, "The fuck?"
I moved my eyes to see what he was looking at, and then I saw his white car keyed.
'Fucking bitch!'
My non-injured hand slapped over my mouth, muffling my laugh.
Ezra's eyebrows lowered, "My car got keyed, and you're laughing?"
"I-I'm sorry! It's not funny, really. It's not," my laugh seeped through despite my best efforts. "I'm sorry, it's just the exclamation point is so funny!"
I felt guilty laughing at his clearly expensive car getting ruined because of me.
But then, his mouth turned up in a smile.
His laugh met my ears, and we began laughing together.
He shook his head, and guided for me to get into the passenger's side door.
The drive to his house took 20 minutes - and as we pulled into his driveway, my jaw dropped.
His driveway alone was bigger than my entire house. I knew the Atlas family had money, but this was the kind of money you could only dream of.
"Oh my God," I spoke as he stopped in front of his house. "A-are your parents going to be okay with me being here?"
"I live alone," he told me before getting out.
I was left sitting with my jaw dropped.
I quickly got out of the car, following him towards the front door. I asked, "Live alone?"
"Your parents don't work for my parents, Lilac. They work for me."
He continued walking, and stepped into his house, as I remained frozen for a moment.
I ran inside to catch up with him, following him into a large bathroom. I said, "I'm sorry, what? My fifty-year-old parents work for you?"
"Yes," was all he said as he started pulling first-aid items out of his bathroom drawers.
"A-and what do they do?"
He paused, looking to be in thought. He spoke, "They've never told you?"
I shook my head.
Instead of answering me, he pointed to the counter and said, "Sit."
I jumped up on the counter. He came over to me and grabbed my hand softly before putting it under the running water.
Blood ran down the white sink, and to my surprise, it didn't sting.
He shut the water off, and started to dab the cut with something. As he did this, he answered, "I run a lot of businesses. Your parents just work for one of them."
"Doing?"
"Transporting things for me," he replied, and I nodded.
He started to wrap my hand. His suit jacket still covered my arms, and I watched his face as he put the wrapping on. He was gentle, concentrated. Treating me as if I mattered.
He gently set my hand down, "There. Does it hurt still?"
I shook my head, but my heartbeat started to increase in my chest. He's so close to me.
His eyes looked me up and down, which only made my heart beat more. His hands started at my wrists and traveled up my arms.
"What the fuck is that?" he suddenly said, moving my arm so that he could see it better. His anger was shown in his jaw and eyebrows, and I turned to see what he was looking at.
A bruise of a handprint on my upper arm, from my dad.
"Oh, it's nothing. It was just an accident," I shrugged, removing my arm from his sight. "I was playing with my younger cousins the other day."
His jaw remained tense and his eyebrows remained lowered. I tried to keep my face completely casual so that it didn't look like I was lying.
"I think I should go home now. It's starting to get late," I said, wanting to get home before my parents do.
His eyes continued to scan my face for a moment.
Eventually, he nodded, "Okay."
He helped me down from the counter, and I shut the light off behind us.
"I'm sorry about your car," I apologized, feeling like if maybe I kept my mouth shut it wouldn't have happened.
"Don't apologize. You impressed me," he said, holding the door open for me to go outside.
His words made me bite my lip to hide my smile.
Ezra Atlas, millionaire businessman, is impressed by me.
He drove me home, and I let out a breath of relief as he stopped in front of my house. My parents weren't home.
He walked me to my front door, and we stood under my porch light.
I looked up at him, "Thank you, Ezra. Tonight was really nice - even though my hand almost got decapitated."
"Don't thank me, Lilac," he replied.
A thought lingered around in my mind. One that I couldn't go inside without voicing.
"Could you not tell my dad about this, please?" my voice was soft, nearly pleading.
Concern moved around in his brown eyes. His head tilted, and his jaw shifted as he thought.
He nodded, "Okay. On one condition."
"Name it."
"A second date. Next Friday."
My stomach exploded with butterflies. As I stared into his eyes, the corners of my mouth slowly turned up.
I nodded, "Okay. Deal."
My teeth held onto my bottom lip for a moment. I took a step back and nodded, "I'll see you next Friday."
His charming smile lit up his face. He took a step forward, closing the small gap I created. His hands cupped my face, electricity shooting in my cheeks from his touch.
His thumbs brushed my cheeks as he stared down at me, the sound of crickets being the only thing you could hear.
He slowly leaned down, and I tilted my head up. His lips were nearly grazing mine as his minty breath hit my skin.
He suddenly let out a soft breath and shook his head, "It's too soon, Lilac. You deserve for a man to wait."
"Wait?" my head tilted slightly. "H-how long?"
I knew it was a stupid question, but my nerves got the better of me.
"Our third date," he decided. "If I can get a third date from you, then I'll allow myself."
He took a step back, taking his warm hands with him.
"Goodnight, Lilac," he grabbed my hand, delivering a kiss to the top of it.
He turned on his heels, heading back towards his car.
Present time.
He dragged me to the car. I cried as I watched my house go up in flames, the roof eventually caving in.
He opened the backseat of the car, and I began kicking. Screaming. Clawing to get away, but it was no use against his build.
I cried as he got me into the backseat of the car, which had been parked on the other side of my house. He sat in the back with me, closing and locking the door.
The driver began driving forward, and I stared out the back window as I watched my house burn, until it was eventually out of view.
I held my hand over my mouth as I cried, my body trembling.
"Lilac?" Ezra spoke worriedly. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?"
"Whats wrong?!" I almost yelled. "Are you fucking delusional!"
His hand began to stroke my hair, "Shhh, my sweet girl. Don't cry."
I swatted his hand away, and he sighed irritatedly. He reached forward, and grabbed a wrapped plate of food.
"Steak. Your favorite," he spoke softly. "Would you like to eat? I think you should, darling."
"Fuck you, and fuck your stupid fucking steak!" I yelled. "Let me go, Ezra. It's been five fucking years!"
He ran a hand through his hair, before rubbing his jawline. He kept his eyes away from me for a few moments, until finally, they met mine again.
"I'm sorry, Lilac. But I love you too much."
"You love me so much that you'd force me to be around you, to make your sick mind happy?" I spoke, almost in disbelief. "You're a fucking murderer!"
He rolled his eyes, "Oh, please. Don't act like that man meant anything to you, he was cooking the soup that I know is your least favorite."
"Don't act like he's the only person you've killed," I spat, and his jaw tightened once he realized who I was talking about.
He remained silent. He didn't know that I knew who he killed.
Eventually, he sighed.
"I hope you've missed Portland, Lilac. Because we're going back, and you'll never leave me again, my sweet girl."
Word count: 2825