Desired

In Which The Devil Shows His Face

I lay on my stomach in the bedroom, crossing and uncrossing my feet in the air as I try and fail to clear my thoughts.

I heard Elijah leave a while ago and my mother is sleeping off the hangover she came home with last night.

'If I were you I'd stay the hell away from me'.

Those eleven words keep playing on repeat in my head like a broken track record.

His words scare me! don't get me wrong but is it weird that they also, maybe, just a tiny little bit, excite me.

"Of course it's weird! what the hell is wrong with you Renée,"

I mutter to myself, turning over to my back and staring at the ceiling, my heart almost leaving my chest when someone knocks on my door.

I look at it sceptically, wondering if its mister 'stay the hell away' as I bite on the side of my thumb in consideration, deciding that if it was Elijah he wouldn't have knocked.

I'm surprised to see the boy who brought my bags in yesterday standing outside, running his hands through his hair nervously.

"Hi, William right?" I ask, wondering why he's at my door or in the penthouse for that matter.

"Yeah and you're Renée," he states and I nod my head agreeing with him.

I am in fact Renée.

We both start laughing for unknown reasons until it awkwardly comes to an end. William runs his hands through his hair, clearing his throat before speaking again.

"I'm just wondering if maybe, I mean only if you want to, possibly have lunch with me or something?" he says rushing out his sentences so they blur together.

I smile at his obvious nervousness to hide my own. Guys don't usually ask me out, it's usually always, Mia they go for so I never really know what to say when they do.

"You're asking me to have lunch with you?"

"Or something." He clarifies making me laugh.

What do I have to loose right?

I think, considering his invitation before nodding my head.

"Sure, why not?"

"Really?" He asks, seemingly surprised by my answer.

I allow my eyes to take in his figure for the first time and it's not like he isn't hot.

Guys who look like him could probably have any girl they wanted and William sure fit the bill, with his shaggy blonde hair and wide blue eyes, the imprint of his muscles peeking out from his shirt.

Hinting that he works out.

What the hell does he want with me? I think briefly but not really caring all the same.

"Yeah, really," I repeat myself, It's not like I have anyone else to show me around and I could really really use the distraction.

****

"So Mr. Alejandro is your stepfather?"

William asks and I scowl down at my coffee cup. He had taken me to a small coffee shop not too far from the hotel. Normally I wouldn't step a foot in this godawful place, but hey, beggers can't be choosers.

"I wouldn't call him my stepfather exactly. I like to think of him as the arrogant pig-head that's married to my mother," I mutter, more to myself than him, scrunching my nose when he takes a sip of his coffee and grimacing at my own cup.

I didn't want him to feel bad when he ordered the disgusting drink, so I put a smile on my face and accepted the abomination unto earth.

I hope God is taking note of my good deed for the day.

"What's that like?"

"Which part? living with a notorious criminal? Or living with a notorious criminal that's married to my mother?" I ask sarcastically.

"Touchy subject huh?"

"You wouldn't believe," I say as Elijah's words play over in my head for the millionth time.

'If I were you, I'd stay the hell away from me'.

A shiver slowly makes its way down my spine when I think about his eyes on my stomach, guilt immediately making me avert my eyes.

"Noted," William says giving me a sly smile. "In that case. Want to hear about the time I may or may not have eaten a tampon?" He ask, his grin growing wider when heads turn to look at us because of my laughter.

If there were any coffee in my mouth I would have done a spit take. I love doing spit takes.

***

"I had fun today William. Thank you," I say when we're back at the penthouse, smiling at him as he runs his hands through his hair, his own smile on his lips.

"I'm happy that you did and you can call me Will, if you want,"

"Well then I guess you can call me Ren, if you want," I reply, the grin refusing to leave my face.

"I'll see you around Ren,"

"Yeah you too, Will," I say as he walks away with a smile on his face, sighing dreamily as I watch him walk away.

Its not everyday that you come across a guy with both looks and a sense of humor. I laugh when I think about what Mia will say, opening the door of the apartment.

A startled scream escapes my lips as I'm violently thrown against a wall by an angry Elijah.

"Where the hell have you been!?" he screams in my face.

"let me go are you crazy!" I shout,

shocked and more than a little scared by his actions.

Did I say a little sacred. I meant terrified.

"You're scaring me, Elijah!"

I shout again when his grip on my shoulders tighten. He loosens his grip but doesn't let me go.

"Where the fück were you Renée? Answer me," He says softly, the malice in his voice making my body tremble.

I hear myself speaking, even though I'm scared shitless.

"With a friend,"

"You just got here, you have no friends,"

"I made one!" I yell, as angry tears spring to my eyes.

"Do you know how many people make attempts on my life everyday Renée?" He asks as if I cared.

I look him in the eyes, refusing to answer his question.

"Answer me!" He shouts, slamming his hand on the wall next to my head, making me jump like two feet of the floor as my heart skips a beat......or ten.

"I d-don't know,"

"Dio! Hundreds maybe more. You can't do s**t like leaving the house and not tell me where you're going.

I'm married to your mother Renée, which means that there will be attempts on your life,"

"Cazzo!" he shouts again, causing one of those traitorous tears to break free and roll down my cheek.

I watch in amazement as his face immediately changes from angry to concerned. He takes a deep breath, composing himself before looking at me again.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, Amore. I'm not accustomed to protecting people other than myself," he explains in a gentle voice, calloused hands wiping the tear away from my cheek.

I nod my head, too stunned by his actions to speak as slight tremors rack my body. His eyes fall on my lips and for a sweaty second I think he's going to kiss me, but he doesn't.

"Who were you with?"

"A friend," I answer in a shaky voice, still denying him the answer he wants.

"I'm going to need a name, Renée," he quietly demands, looking at me as I swallow the boulder in my throat, contemplating whether I should tell him or not.

My eyes travel to his large and tattooed arm still griping onto my shoulder and my mind is made up.

"William," I say, effectively throwing my friend under the heavily muscled bus that is Elijah.

"William?" He asks, giving me a dirty look.

"William as in the skinny turd who works in this building?"

I purse my lips and nod my head, training my eyes to the floor.

"Do you like him?" He asks, his face twisting as if the words tasted like posion on his lips. I open my mouth to tell him that it's none of his goddamned business but my throat closes up and nothing comes out.

"I asked you a question!" he yells, anger returning to his face.

"Yes I like him," I say, the words leaving my mouth in a rush.

"Cazzo," He curses again, slamming his hand on the wall near my head.

"Why the fück do you like him? he's not worth your time, tesoro. He's skinny and, and....... he's skinny," he says, stumbling through his sentence.

If I wasn't so scared I'd laugh.

"He's nice," I say, folding my arms and defending my friend.

He's a lot nicer than you, that's for sure and he doesn't look like he can murder me with his eyes.

I think, a giggle very nearily escaping my mouth.

This always happens, when I'm scared I feel the need to make jokes and laugh at things that are in no way funny.

Elijah moves his hands away from my head and begins to pace the floor.

"Why do I even care who the hell you like? I'm married to your mother and you're f*****g seventeen years old,"

"Exactly!" I shout, agreeing with him completely, which earns me an annoyed glance.

"Why can't I stop thinking about you?" he asks, stopping his pacing as he walks up to me."What makes you so fücking special huh?" he says, touching my face with the back of his hands as his eyes once again flicker to my lips.

"Non sei mio. You're not mine, tesoro,"

He says, almost as if he's trying to convince himself.

I swallow the knot in my throat, a weird feeling erupting in my stomach as his words register in my head. They should make me feel happy but instead I feel an ache that scares me.

His eyes drift to my lips and I think that he's definitely going to kiss me this time but again , he doesn't.

"Vai avanti," he whispers his jaw clenching hard as he visibily restrains himself.

(Translation: Go on)

"Go to your room and lock the door," he orders, gently but firmly and only raising his voice when I don't move.

"Now Renée!" he shouts and before I know what's happening, I'm already in my room and locking the door behind me.

"Oh crap. Oh hell. Oh s**t. Oh fück," I mutter, sliding down the door and bringing my knees to my chest as I wonder what in the Billy Ocean just happened. My heartbeat skyrocketing as the realisation dawns on me, the awfully dreadful realisation.

I like Elijah Alejandro.

God lord, I freaking like the guy married to my mother.

Shit, s**t, did I say s**t? Because s**t.