"If you hold me without hurting me.
You'll be the first who ever did."
- Lana Del Rey
. . .
Dahlia
There was a little house in the town - a little house that held almost every good memory I had. Many people thought Emilia was the better sister, especially after the not-going-to-college thing happened. But there was one person from my family who didn't change the way they looked at me.
He was older than my father by about five years. He was fond of books. He liked reading them, writing them, making them, selling them, collecting them, donating them... everything he did was wrapped around his love for the written word.
Because the written words the only thing I can hear, he once signed to me, grinning at me from his porch as I walked back to my car - the car which used to be his. It's not just written, Dahlia, it exists in every medium imaginable.
He was a man with very deep words.
Or....he used to be.
I sat down on the white porch of the house, looking at my Maserati, wondering what his reaction would be to the recent events.
Evan left you? I told you that boy had rocks for brains!
Elliot is...Elliots? That is what I call a twist, but I would have kept it a secret for like half of the book - just for the suspense.
Did they give you just brownies and earrings? I know for a fact that brother of mine has a shit ton of money!
It's okay, Dahlia. You know how Emilia is. Just don't talk to her. Don't give in when she comes to apologize this time.
It was weird how I could think of what his reaction would be, while I doubted I could do that for anyone else.
I looked at the closed white door. I couldn't bring myself to walk inside. I hadn't been able to since he died. I guess I was hoping that when I walked in, I'd find him sitting by his bay window. He'd see me, scramble to find something to use as a bookmark, finally decide on regretfully folding the corner of the page, and then hug me as he told me he loved me above everyone else.
To be on the top of someone's list...that feeling had been addicting.
I knew if I found no one near that bay window...I'd lose the overburdened rope tied around all parts of me, holding me together.
I went about my day, and then my week, and then my month with no interactions with the Elliots of the Kozlov twins. I wasn't surprised. Disappointed? Perhaps. I wanted answers. Something to make sense of the mess created in my mind by them. But, perhaps, this was for the best. I was taken out of this before I fell way too much for them.
Four journals appeared for me in my mailbox one random Sunday. I looked at the note on it.
A few pages are torn in all of them because we wrote some things.
No name, of course.
I opened the journals and sure enough, some of the pages were torn. My fingers traced the marks left by the pen on the unused paper.
Should I?
I did.
Two of them didn't make any sense. Whoever wrote in them had a very light hand. The other two weren't very readable either, no matter how much I tried to rub the graphite on them.
I recognized only one word in those two journals.
Dahlia.
It was written with intervals. In one it was scrawled, and in the other, it was written with words pushed together so much as if they were choking. In both of them, my name was at least four times. On one page.
I shut the journals and threw them deep into my closet.
Dahlia. I heard my name being whispered by one Elliot, or perhaps both of them.
Dahlia. It was Andros this time. His voice is so perfectly accented. Dahlia. Can I walk you out?
Their lips ticked my ear, traveling down. Dahlia. The whispers rose. Dahlia. Dahlia. Dahlia.
I opened my eyes, and the heat of my body went down.
Bobby gave me a funny look and walked out of my room.
I sighed, sitting down on my bed. This wasn't good.
This wasn't good at all.
. . .
"Screw them," Marie said. "Screw them. Like, screw them."
"You realize that you sound like you want her to fuck them, right?" Otto, who was sitting across the table asked, throwing a fry in his mouth. "You sound like a porn director."
"I do not," Marie said instantly. "I'm just really mad at those fucking guys." She sucked on her straw. Strawberry milkshake. I hated strawberries more than I hated any other fruit. Marie had started buying that milkshake to piss me off back when we were kids, but she liked it now.
I wouldn't be surprised if she hated it and drank it just to fuck with me.
"You'd be an excellent porn director," I told her. "I can just imagine you commanding a few naked guys with giant dicks."
"Giant dicks are scary," Marie muttered but then nodded. "But I would be a great director. I'd do none of that stepbrother bullshit. I'd made believable scenarios."
"Oh, I liked the Boss and assistant ones," I said. "They are usually hot. But I don't know if I like the power dynamic thing, you know?"
"Isn't the whole point of them demonstrating the power dynamic?" Marie said. "The power the boss has over the assistant. I think that is the only reason why people watch it."
Otto looked at both of us, blinking slowly as if he was in slow motion. "Girls watch porn?"
I laughed, looking at my fries. Too oily. "We were all teenagers once," I said. "Expecting great sex. But after getting through bad sex, you just want to scream at the video about how inaccurate it is."
He whistled lowly. "Really? It's fine for me."
"Porn is usually catered to men," Marie said, rolling her eyes. "We, women, are barely thought of in that."
"That's...sad," he said. "I think?"
I laughed, pulling away from the conversation as I looked around.
And then just happened to look behind me.
Andros or Hedeon Kozlov looked back at me.
The lack of smile on his face told me he was probably not Andros, but I could be wrong. I didn't know either of them well enough to differentiate.
I motioned Marie and Otto to lean closer. They did.
"The guy behind us. Don't look, assholes.
Yes, keep your eyes on me. He is one of the shady twins at the dinner."
"I wanna look so bad," Marie whined under her breath. "The way you described him, he sounded hot."
"He is hot," I said.
"I can look," Otto said. "I don't think he'd even realize."
"I think he would," I said.
"Yes. If I don't get to look, neither do you," Marie added.
"We aren't kids."
"Did you almost cry when the waitress said there are no cheeseburgers left?"
"Hey, that's different! What's a diner worth if it doesn't have cheeseburgers? What's next? They don't have fries?"
Marie and I rubbed his arm to calm him down. "There, there."
He breathed heavily, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "It just bugs me."
I shook my head, laughing and removed my hand. "I need to go to the restroom. Move your ass out of the way, Marie."
Marie stood, did a very awkward stretch, and sneaked a look at Andros/Hedeon. She looked back at me with wide eyes which said 'he is hot!'
I resisted the urge to look at him and walked to the restroom.
When I was done, he was waiting by the door outside.
He looked at me and then, slowly, as if testing the word, said my name, "Dahlia."
Fuck me. His accent was there as much as Andros's. But there was no hint of gentleness that Andros had. If Andros was the heavy rain, Hedeon was the thunder.
"Hedeon?" I asked, just to confirm.
He nodded. "Yes."
"...Okay." I tucked my hands behind my back. His eyes followed the movement. "What are you doing here?"
"I want to talk to you."
"About?"
"I'd like you to reconsider that dinner."
"I never agreed to a dinner with you, or your twin, or both of the Elliots."
The side of his lips tilted up slightly. "The Elliots will settle their mess. Have dinner with Andros and me."
"Can you form that like a question rather than a demand?"
His eyes brows shot up, just slightly. The man looked incapable of showing much emotion on his face.
"Would you like to have dinner with Andros and me, Dahlia?"
"No."
He paused. "No?"
"No," I said. "You're both shady as fuck. I learned my lesson with the Elliots."
"As I said," he said. "Go out with Andros and me. They will settle their own mess. We don't have anything to do with them."
"The fact that you were at the dinner says otherwise."
Again, a slight movement of one corner of his lips. "We are connected," he admitted. "We have the same business."
"And that business is?"
"I'll tell you, in time."
"In time," I repeated. "You can't tell me that's not shady."
"We are...shady, as you put it," he admitted. "But we mean no harm to you."
"Am I to take your word for it?"
"That'd be good, yes. I do not lie to women I set my eyes on."
"And how many of them are out there?"
"Since I saw you? One. Only one." He stepped closer. "A date. With my brother and I."
"Both of you?" I asked, gulping.
He smirked. "Both of us."
"Won't the Elliots be pissed?"
"They dug their hole." His eyes looked all over my face. "They'll crawl out of it. I refuse to lose you because of their issues."
I pressed my lips together, thinking for a moment, and then nodded. "One date," I said.
He gave me a barely there smile and took out a phone from his suit jacket. It looked tiny in his tatted hand. He extended his hand towards me. "Your number. To set up the date."
I took the phone from his hand and typed my number.
"Good night, Dahlia," he said as he pocketed his phone.
"Good night," I said. And when he was gone, I put a hand on my heart with was beating wildly.
Both of them.
What the fuck?
. . .
Soooo....
Thots? 🧍🏽♀️