As soon as I stepped into the dining hall, everyone stood up in a sign of respect. I see Reagan immediately and my eyes don't leave her. She is gorgeous. Her hair that is done like my mothers, falls down her back in the softest way.
Everything about her is so soft. Her skin looks so smooth. The dress she is wearing accentuates every beautiful curve. The girls that throw themselves all over me are typically over confident, Reagan on the other hand looks like someone who wouldn't just melt into my touch. Someone that is too scared to be in my touch.
"Son." My father greets me. I don't respond. I just pick up my silverware and motion for them to continue talking— I cannot stand the silence.
She plays with her hands nervously in her lap. I can tell she is uncomfortable. She is just waiting for someone to excuse her. But no one leaves the table unless told by me.
I could be "nice" and let her go off to her room, but I am liking the view.
Her eyes suddenly meet mine. The hazel green pools look me up and down, checking me out. I mean— I don't blame her. After her gazing is done, she snaps away and looks at her hands.
My crew makes a comment about my right hand, Matteo and everyone laughs. I don't, but I can't help but notice the effect of the laughter on Reagan. Her cheeks grow a feverish color and her eyes nonchalantly look down at herself as if inspecting every inch for flaws.
My mother clears her throat at the end of the table, catching Reagan's attention— and my father's. She isn't supposed to speak, or disrupt anything. She'll hear about it later I am sure. My bastard of a father will be sure to tell her what she did wrong. "Reagan dear, why don't we go and freshen up?" Mother suggests.
Reagan is quick to nod her head and push off the table with her palm. Involuntarily, my hand grips her wrist, keeping her from leaving. Shock is present in her beautiful eyes as she stares at me. I nod my head for her to sit back down and she obeys, sitting back into the seat with her back straight and shoulders high with tension.
She hasn't even touched her food. Only taking small sips of her water in little inroments. The food on her plate has cooled by the end of the dinner. I apparently held her hand the entire time. I am first to stand from the table and I leave with no words or question.
Short again... Thoughts?
YOU ARE READING
Written in Ink
Action" I peer behind him to see a woman laying bridal style unconscious in one of my father's security guard's arms. She wears an involuntary frown. "For what reason?" I snap, looking back to my father. "For the same reason I got your mother. So we look...
