Childish.
Too Young.
Black Princess.
Emo Chick.
Weirdo.
I had many names. None of them mattered. People do as they please with little to no regard to others feelings. In this wretched world I had learnt from a young age that...
There were fundamentally three types of people. One's who created chaos for the fun of it. One's who were part of it and ultimately people who enjoyed it.
Dad had always been chaos himself and uncle Aiden who was dad's bestfriend, they would rather die than accept it, was always the one who enjoyed watching chaos unfold. They both couldn't care less if anyone was harmed, or if their lives flipped upside down. Instead, they would probably add on some fuel to that already burning fire.
Whereas my mom and aunts liked to avoid it but more often than not got caught up in the chaos created by dad or uncle Aiden.
As a child I was the youngest. The most shielded. The most protected. By both my parents friend group and my sister's friend group. Even Eli and Landon who couldn't care less about anyone would stop by and pamper me. One would say I was a princess. It made me want to be exactly like how they all thought of me.
A small angel. A little princess.
I tried to be more like my mom and my elder sister Ava. The later was a literal ball of sunshine with great social skills. I tried to act like princess too.
But it all went in vain.
She was Ava Nash. A carbon copy of mom. And I was Ariella Nash. An epitome of lurking darkness like dad.
She was the sun.
I was the moon.
Apart from our similarities in certain physical features we were poles apart. She was the pink princess and I was the black princess. She was an extrovert and I was an introvert. She was everything pure and good and I found peace in chaos and manipulation.
It was hard to accept who I was. But eventually after spending more time with dad.
I didn't have to be like Silver Nash or Ava Nash to fit in. I didn't even have to be Cole Nash to fit in as a Nash. All I need to be is me.
Ariella Nash.
.
I accepted the darkness that lurked within. I loved it. I let it grow. I enjoyed spending time reading books on philosophy, war and chaos like dad.
And most of all I learnt that I had the same obsessive tendencies and strong emotions like dad.
My deviant tastes and want to discover them got me into things I couldn't help but fall deeper in love with.
At the age of sixteen. While on one of my many stalking ventures. I chanced upon something that ruined my innocence.
I saw him taking a girl against the wall. His movements tender. Controlled. But the lust in his eyes demanded more. His head rolling back with each thrust into a skinny blonde with the vocal abilities of a goat.
I felt rage consume me. I could feel it burning inside. I could feel it killing the little mercy and human I had.
It gave birth to the devil inside me.
.
I had reached down my fingers towards the hem of my black pleated skirt and snaked them inside my panties slowly. Eyes still focused on him.
My fingers had brushed my folds tenderly. The feeling foreign. Unsatisfactory. I stroked it harder. Rougher. Matching the maddening want in his eyes.
Trying to match the intensity of how he would touch me. Mercilessly. Unleashing his darkness. Fucking me into oblivion. Unlike the forced gentleness he fakes with other girls.
I curl a finger inside wanting more demanding more.
"Just like that mon beau."
He said his voice an octave lower. Deeper. Not filled with pleasure but it had hints of lust. His hands move towards her hair trying to grab a fistful and pull them. But instead he pushes her hair back and groans.
His voice made me more slick. My arousal heightening. Imagining that it was me who he was speaking too.
I pinch my clit while fingering myself faster. Matching his rhythm. Unknown voices leaving my lips. His brown eyes filling my thoughts.
"I'm coming."
I hear him say as he pulls out of her and groans while she takes his cock into her mouth.
His face creased with pleasure. Eyes closed with soft deep hums. As he reaches his climax. His satisfied face alone was enough for me to reach my own orgasm.
It was my first orgasm.
Funny how I had my first orgasm without even having my first kiss. But who cares.
Right then all I wanted to do was pull the blonde bitch up by her hair. And shove her fake plastic face against a wall.
She didn't have the right to kneel down for him. She didn't have the right to touch him. Neither did she have the right to to feel him.
He was mine.
What was mine is and always will be mine.
.
A year had passed since and I had divulged more into this. My Voyeurism had only increased. I had to sneak into la debauché more often than not. Obviously without dad's knowledge.
The rest of my time was spent stalking the man of my dreams while coming up with new torture mechanisms for every female he touched or threw herself at him.
.
I knew that I will have him. Eventually.
Regardless of the method I have to use to conquer it. Even if I had to create chaos to be near him. To feel his light which reflected and glowed my moon.
He was the yin to my yang.
Jailbait.
Remington Astor. Brown hair. Brown eyes. And a nose so straight and sharp that it was aristocratic. His face perfection. His smile mesmerising. His laugh a symphony. He was magnificent. His personality charming and adorable.
I loved him. I always have.
Even when Uncle Ronan would teasingly say that he wanted Cecily or Ava to be his daughter in laws. I knew deep within myself. That he was mine.
It did irritate me initially. But I just couldn't resist his charming laughs and stupid jokes. He had always been there for me when I needed him most. And that made me love him even more.
Today was his graduation day and we all had gathered up in the house him, my sister and our friends stay in. With a bunch of students Royal Elite University and The Kings University.
"His Lordship will now grace you all the privileged opportunity to all drinks rooms except the ones we live in and off course lots of fun and enjoyment..." He said while winking at a bunch of girls who fawned over him. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at them. They didn't have to act like they were eight years old with degraded and non existent brain cells to get his attention.
"Remi... stop being a man whore and keep that thing in your pants." Cecily said while rubbing her nose as Jeremy placed his head on the crook of her neck. Inhaling her scent.
"It's called Cock. Say it with me Ces. C-O-C-K!" Remi looked at her teasing her like he usually did. "Get railed by someone like Jeremy didn't Unprude you?! Gosh I need a breathing bag. And an inhaler pump cause I think I just got Asthma!" He said while pretending to faint on Creighton's shoulder who was too busy listening to Ani to even care about Remi.
"REMS?! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU NOT TO SAY SUCH THINGS TO CECY!" My sister marches in the vicinity in a mini pink dress. Strapless and tight. Looking like she had been dipped in pink glitter and fairy dust.
She took the nearest pillow and threw it at his face. He dodged it while running towards me. "I command you to stop! You uncivilised twat?! Is that a way to treat your lordship? Bran? Spawn? Someone help me with this she devil!" He yelled when he saw Ava pick up a tray of pastries.
When the others didn't respond. His eyes met mine. He gave me that dazzling smile that always seemed to stop my heart. Make it trip and falter. He rushed behind me. And hugged me from behind. His spicy citrus smell clouding my senses. His breath warming my body.
"Jailbait! My little sis will always save me!" He said still looking at Ava who had halted her actions.
My little sister?
I felt my heart shatter. Is that what I have been to him all this time? A sister? A young girl who he would never see as anything else.
I felt myself go rigid and cold while still in the hold I have craved for.
Remington Astor had shattered my love for him. But how could I ever love another if he is the only one I can ever love.