Sua Farfalla

You should really brush your teeth

Alonzo's POV:

I could stay like this forever, but of course, life isn't as sweet as it is described in books.

A few minutes had passed and we were still in each other's arms, foreheads resting against each other. 

I was still softly caressing her back and hair, the only sound being our profound breathings and the pumping of our hearts.

But this being reality and not a fictional story, our paradise had to be short lived.

A guard opened the door, probably to signal the counseling time was up, but as soon as he saw the position we were in, he went livid.

He quickly ran to us and snatched Jenna out of my arms while shouting for other guards to come grab me.

After looking at the expression of pure fear my farfalla had on her face, I realized she was still on a vulnerable state and could easily get stressed if treated roughly.

"Don't grab her, just leave her alone. She just had a panic attack, you'll stress her out!" I screamed while nearing them, only to be harshly held down by two other guards who just walked into the cell.

The first guy was still grabbing her too hard, and I was beginning to see the same look on her face she had before the panic attack happened.

'Whatever triggered it, it has something to do with violent treatment', I thought. 

She's getting all upset again by the way his grabbing her.

"YOU ARE GONNA MAKE HER HAVE ANOTHER PANIC ATTACK, YOU ORANGUTAN!!!"

"LET HER GO!"

Insults don't go around too well in here, and I was reminded of that by being kicked in the stomach twice, which had me laying on the floor, hissing painfully.

I was still laying on the floor holding my injured body when I saw the guard take her away from the cell, and closing the door.

Looking up, I see the other two guards looking down at me as if I were a bug about to get stepped on. 

One of them stood behind me, while the other was right in front of me.

The one from behind, who I now think of as 'number 34', painfully grabbed my hair and brought my face to look at the other guard, 'number 35', who was now crouching in front of me.

"Listen here little shitheaded criminal, I don't know how the f**k you got to break that table, and I honestly don't give a damn, but pull a trick like that again, and I'll emasculate you".

His words didn't fuss me at all, I actually found them amusing. 

He can't touch me, he literally can't.

A little smirk appeared at the side of my mouth, but as soon as I saw the look of pure hatred on his face, I regretted it.

I felt a fist collide with my cheeks over and over again, along with hard kicks on my lower abdomen and rib cage.

I felt my head being lifted from the floor and felt his disgustingly warm breath at the back of my ear.

"I don't know who you are or why you are here. I don't know why you were put in this nice looking cell or why I was instructed not to hurt you, but let me tell you something, and let's hope I don't need to repeat myself ever again: I. don't. give. a. s**t. about. your. ass. 

Your father could be a king or the president, and I still wouldn't care, you know why? 

Because I'm the boss in here, and you are just another one of my bitches"

He then pulled my eyes to look into his own and raised his eyebrows as if daring me to say something.

"Is there anything you'd like to add, inmate?" He asked smugly.

"Yeah", I said, spitting a bit of blood in between chuckles. "You should really brush your teeth... does your wife stand that breath? Oh, right, you mustn't even have one"

I'll pass out from these injuries anyway, might as well make them hurt me a bit more to speed up the process.

"Son of a-"

I didn't hear the rest, I couldn't. All I felt was seven more kicks to me left and right side, and saliva being spit to my arm.

I felt them leave the cell and locking the door in the process, leaving me to slip into nothingness on my own.

Even in this vulnerable state, I couldn't help but wonder what had made my farfalla have a panic attack in the first place.

Who the f**k would hurt a seventeen year old girl to the point of mentally scarring her?

I'll have to ask her about it, but I know I should first gain her trust. Otherwise she won't be telling me anything anytime soon.

As for the guards, they have no idea what they are saying... WHO they are talking to.

My father isn't a king, far from it really. 

And, ironically, I was put in this hellhole because I was thought to be one. 

I'm not.

But the more time I spend in here, the more I feel like satisfying them and becoming the monster they painted me to be.

They think I'm a king? Fine, I'll become just that. 

And I know I'll enjoy it when they're running around fearful of what I might do.

I'll be the boss, and they'll be my bitches.