"She had magic in her eyes,
Even the stars envied"
Eros Vandare
"Okay,okay!" She manages to say through tipsy giggles as she pushes the crumped up napkin with her number written on it, into Dimitris hands. Stupid fucking Russian.
Dimitri gives her a lop sided grin while promising her that he will text her the moment he returns to his car.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I smoothly pull it out only to see that our driver has finally arrived, and I don't have to watch Dimitri and Bella flirt like fucking idiots anymore. About fucking time.
"We're leaving Bella" I say sternly while she begins to try and sneak back inside, to the ongoing party. Right before she slides back in, I lean over her and slam the door shut with one arm, making sure she is not caught in between.
She throws her head back dramatically, and it hits the front of my chest as she groans loudly, clearly aggravated that I am not allowing her to go make an ass of herself.
I lean down quickly and place my mouth near her ear, making sure she alone can hear me, "It's not a good look for everyone to see the mafia heir running around with some Russian assassin, intoxicated off of expensive table champagne, at a formal event."
She turns her head back slowly to look at me and realization washes across her pale face, she yawns loudly while saying "whatever, I am tired anyway." Hard headed mother fucker.
With that she pushes out from in front of me and walks over near Dimitri, who is now leaning against the railing with a drunken posture and smile.
I barley even saw that fucking lightweight drink.
"Dimitri, I had a wonderful time with you." She says with a kind smile. Fucking smile.
"You as well gorgeous, get home safe." He then leans down and gently kisses her slightly rosy cheek, due to the cold breeze slicing through the air.
"gli taglierò quella maledetta lingua." I mutter under my breath while I watch their idiotic interaction.
With that Dimitri smoothly walks down the large steps and begins to walk to one of the many cars parked on the side of the road. Maybe he will get hit by a fucking car.
Here's to fucking hoping.
Bella begins to unsteadily make her way down the stairs, tripping and rocking. Her tall black heels with red slightly peeking out on the bottom, shake underneath her as she struggles to stay upright. She's so fucking spoiled.
I quickly make my way down the steps, and slowly keep one step in-front of her, as she struggles to makes her way down the steep steps. I will probably loose my job if she falls and fucking dies.
The moment I received the news months ago, that the head of the British mafia required someone to be a bodyguard for his, soiled, nineteen year old daughter, who I assume has absolutely no real threats and never has, I immediately took the easy offer.
Honestly the Karves are just waisting their money hiring a bodyguard for someone who doesn't have any issues in her perfect little life. But yet there they were desperately asking for me, the deadliest assassin in Italy, to fill in for the full time position.
I would have been willing to do just about anything to get out of the of the vile situation of being an assassin.
She pathetically makes it down to the car and I smoothly begin to pull open the door for her sorry ass, but before I can she pushes her hand against it violently, slamming it shut, and looks me dead in the eyes, "I can do it myself." She sneers drunkly. She then pulls the door open and slowly crawls into the car and collapses into the seat closest to the door.
"Fucker." I murmur to myself while slamming the car door shut and walking around the car to the opposite side.
I swiftly pull open the door and slide into the cold seat, two away from her.
Bella limply pulls her feet up onto the seat between us and rests her back against the door, facing me.
The car begins to move and she tiredly zones out, staring at me with exhaustion, and almost regret gleaming in her big brown eyes.
"I don't get drunk often, I am not like that." She says quietly, almost more to herself then me. Really? because you seem pretty wasted tonight dumbass.
"I don't give two fucks what you do Bella." I say coldly while l look away from her alluring eyes, and towards the leather seat in front of me.
"But next time you want to flirt with your fucking boy toy again, make sure I am not there, having to watch." I spit out angrily while looking back towards her with hate written on my face.
I meet her gaze only to see tears glazing her eyes, but not daring to fall.
"You act like I am disgusting slut, trying to get fucking laid.... Do you know the last time someone has asked me what my favorite things are?" She says softly, her angelic voice slightly wavering.
"Do you know the last time someone cared about my opinion on things?" She says again while tilting her head back against the window, slightly exposing a jagged, discolored scar that I have never seen, usually due to the coverage of her long, dark hair.
It reaches roughly from the edge of her pale chin, right next to the bottom of her ear, down to the top of her exposed collarbone.
"It's been a god damned while that's for sure." She finishes with a bitter, humorless chuckle that sounded like the cracking of glass, that sent a weird shiver through my bones.
She is only saying these things because she is intoxicated
With that she slowly pulls her feet off of the seat next to me and turns to face her frosted window, and watch the dead trees blow in the frigid breeze.
The last thing I need or want to listen to is some perfect, spoiled girl complain about what she thinks are actual problems.
She doesn't know all that she has. She doesn't know what other people have to deal with. Her life is fucking perfect and here she is whining and making excuses because she fucked up and got drunk.
I fucking hate Arabella Karve.
Yet... I can't help myself as I vaguely glance over to watch her pale face in the reflection of her foggy window.
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"Bella I swear to fucking god if you don't wake up." I say while holding onto her shoulders and shaking her slightly. Fuck this.
I have been trying to wake her, for almost ten fucking minutes now, but she has barley even moved, except for an annoyed groan or weak push to my chest.
Maybe if she didn't drink a entire fucking bottle of champagne like a fu-
"Oh Mr.Vandare, if you want I can easily carry her up to her room, for you. Me and Arabella are friends." I hear a quiet voice say from behind me nervously.
I let go of Bella and push my tongue harshly against the inside of my cheek. I slowly turn around with a look plastered on my face, that I can tell is not necessarily friendly.
I am met with a tall skinny boy, no older then 17, standing there with dirty blond hair and tan skin. It's always the fucking blonds.
He gives me a nervous smile while slightly looking around me towards the, passed out, Arabella with an eager gleam in his bright green eyes.
I step to the side swiftly and lean against the sleek, black car, blocking his view while clenching my jaw, "No. go back to your post." I say angrily while glancing at his attire which is the black and gold sentry uniform.
"I-I have a minute and I really do-" he goes on while looking to left of me nervously, not able to maintain eye contact.
I cut him off abruptly and look him in his nervous young eyes, "I said go back to your fucking post."
With that I don't wait for and answer as I push off of the car and turn around, towards Bella. I swiftly lean down and throw her limp body over my shoulder with ease.
I place one of my arms around her exhausted legs and use my other arm to slam the car door shut.
***********************
I finally make it back up to her large room, after many glares at anyone who looked in my direction too long, and I instantly am astonished at the look of her room. Why the fuck does one girl own so many fucking dresses. spoiled.
Dresses are thrown messily all over the, usually clean, room, along with heels, pants, shirts, and just about everything else the would normally be tucked away within her closet. What the actual fuck happened in here?
I make my way towards her sizable bed, while trying to avoid death because of all of her cloths, and I instantly flop her onto it.
I stare at her, still dressed in her lavish outfit, and tall heels. I shrug carelessly while turning around and walking away, calling it a night. Princess can tuck herself in.
I look around the disaster of a room, confirming all of the windows are secured and locked before I carefully shut her bedroom door and jiggle the metal handle, once in the hall, making sure it is locked from the inside.
**********************
As I pass through the golden Foyer, ready to retire to my room for the night, the large front doors open and the Karves walk in slowly, looking fatigued from the long dinner. I don't want to fucking converse.
"Oh Mr.Vandare." Mr.Karve says while shutting the door behind his dull wife. Fuck my life.
"Hm?" I say while reluctantly turning towards them with a hard expression sprawled across my emotionless face.
"I was just wondering if there have been any changes concerning Arabella's safety" He asks coldly with a tinge of bothersome dripping in his harsh words, while he shrugs off his large, expensive, black jacket.
"No, there hasn't been any since I started working." I say annoyed, while crossing my arms and leaning against the stone wall behind me. I want to go to fucking bed.
"Good, I was concerned there for a moment for the safety of the heir." He says carelessly as he hangs his coat upon the royal coat racket, and slowly turns back towards me. Heir, not daughter.
"Meaning?" I question in a cold tone. What the fuck do they mean concerned about her safety?
"It doesn't matter, it's just Arabella" Mrs.Karve says abruptly with venom laced in her words, while stepping forward with a sour look spread on her old face. Bitch.
"Hm" I hum while pushing off of the wall. "Well good evening Mr.Vandare" Mr.Karve says while grabbing his wife's frail hand and beginning to walk towards their chambers.
I roll my eyes at the whole interaction and start to make my way towards my bedroom that is just one floor down from the kitchen.
I do have an expensive, modern house almost thirty minutes away from the manor, placed just on the outskirts of town, tucked into the lush forest.
I am scarcely able to remain there because of the full time job, Unless I am on my couple day vacation every few months. God I need that fucking vacation.
I make my way down the the creaky, wood stairs towards my tucked away room that is placed near the scullery.
I push open the heavy door and enter the plain, compact room that consisted of only the necessities, and a computer that contains the security footage of outside Arabella's room and windows. Probably because she acts like a fucking juvenile always on the run.
Ever since her last escape to town, I have had to double the amount of cameras from all different directions, due to her narrowly avoiding being caught.
I begin to get ready for bed, and after undressing and pulling on some black sweatpants and a plain black shirt I sit down upon the fucking cold, sleek queen-bed that is supposed to provide some form of comfort. I have never found comfort in anything, especially not this fucking bed.
I lay down on my back, and stare up at the dark ceiling as I replay the night in my head. Arabella flirting, Dimitri winning an award for top of his fucking class, Arabella looking like she way going to cry, the Karves talking about past danger, why she was looking at Dimitri like that, fucking idiot.
Why the fuck was looking at him with those eyes?
I turn over slowly and I gaze upon my small dresser clock, that tells me i have been laying down, lost in my thoughts, for almost three hours, and it is now four in the fucking morning.
I am going to the fucking gym.
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Heyyy loves sorry for the slow post:D school is killing me from the inside😔 #ilovebeingateenagegirl
WHAT DO WE THINK ABOUT EROS POV?!? Do we hate it??😭
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