Double Trouble
652 Words
The library was too quiet for the war happening in my head. Theo was showing me sketches of a cathedral, his voice gentle and encouraging, but I couldn't hear a word he was saying. My skin was prickling, that familiar heavy heat settling over my shoulders like a weighted blanket.
"Elena? Are you okay?" Theo asked, his hand reaching for mine on the table.
"I'm fine, Theo. Just a little tired," I lied.
Then, I heard it. The click of expensive Italian leather shoes on the marble floor. I didn't have to look up. I knew the rhythm of that walk.
Dante pulled out the chair at the table directly next to ours. But he wasn't alone. A tall, blonde woman with legs that went on for days and a dress that cost more than my tuition was draped over his arm.
"This table has a better view, don't you think, Sasha?" Dante’s voice was like gravel, loud enough to cut through the silence of the library.
I felt the air leave my lungs. He was really doing this. He was on a date.
Dante’s Perspective
I didn't look at them. I kept my eyes on Sasha, the "distraction" I had picked up with a single phone call, but every nerve ending in my body was tuned to the girl sitting three feet away.
"Dante, you're being so quiet tonight," Sasha purred, leaning in until her perfume—something floral and cheap compared to Elena’s vanilla scent—clogged my throat.
"I'm just enjoying the scenery," I rasped.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Theo take Elena’s hand. He was rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. The "Beast" roared, a violent, red mist clouding my vision. My staggering length was a rigid, unyielding weight, a physical manifestation of the jealousy that was eating me alive.
I wanted to reach over, snap Theo’s wrist, and drag Elena out of this building by her hair. Instead, I turned to Sasha and forced a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Tell me more about that gallery opening, sweetheart."
Elena’s Perspective
It was a nightmare. Every time Sasha laughed, it felt like a needle under my fingernails. I could feel Dante watching me, even though he was pretending to be enthralled by the blonde.
"Elena, your hand is shaking," Theo whispered, looking concerned.
"I think the air conditioning is just too high," I said, my voice trembling.
Suddenly, Dante stood up, his chair screeching against the floor. "I need a drink. Sasha, stay here."
He didn't go to the cafe. He walked toward the secluded stacks in the back of the library.
"I'll be right back, Theo. I need to find a specific book for my essay," I said, standing up before I could lose my nerve.
I followed the scent of his cologne into the shadows of the history section. I found him standing between two tall shelves, his back to me, his shoulders heaving as if he were struggling to breathe.
"You're a monster, Dante Vane," I hissed.
He spun around so fast I didn't have time to scream. He slammed me against the bookshelf, his body a solid, burning wall of muscle.
"And you're a liar," he growled, his face inches from mine. "You don't want that boy. You want me. You've been looking at me all night while he holds your hand like a child."
"At least he isn't using me to make someone else jealous!" I shot back.
Dante’s grip tightened on my waist, his fingers digging into my skin. Beneath his trousers, the unyielding thickness of his desire pressed against my hip, a hard, pulsing truth that no lie could hide.
"I'm not using her," he whispered, his breath hot against my lips. "I'm trying to survive you. But you... you're making it impossible."
He leaned in, his nose brushing mine, the "Beast" finally winning the war.
- Writer
