Written in Ink

Eleven | Alonzo

I was supposed to be home hours ago for the painting of Reagan and I but I got into work. That's my entire life. Work. Until I have an heir, my entire life will be filled with work. Busy life. But not for the next four weeks. I finished up some loose ends so Matteo can hold down the fort while I'm on my honeymoon with Reagan.

It's a good excuse to get off of work.

I walk through the front doors and make my way to the room where the painter and Reagan should be. I open the door, not caring about being loud. The family painter is nodding off on his stool while Reagan is fast asleep in a chair in an uncomfortable position.

"Vai in una delle stanze degli ospiti, Luis." I tell Luis to find a guest room and he gets up, bowing before quickly leaving the room.

I look back at Reagan who is still peacefully sleeping. She is still wearing her wedding gown. My father wanted to spare no expense on the wedding so it can look as expensive as possible. Including her gown.

She does look very beautiful in it. It complements every curve. Her skin is so soft and pure looking.

Deciding not to just leave her here, I walk towards her, and shift her so she leans against my chest. As soon as I do that, she cuddles into my hard chest, pulling herself close to me subconsciously. I wrap my arm around her back and under her knees and lift her up off the chair with ease.

The long dress trails behind us as I make my way down the halls to her bedroom. Along the way Buchanon and Lorenzo find me and follow. They only know Italian commands. I'll have to show Reagan some so they listen to her.

Soon enough we get to her room and I kick open the door. The two dogs wait on either side of the doorway as I enter. The door automatically shuts gently behind me. I lay her on the large bed. It's kinda chilly out, I'm no girl but sleeping in a wedding dress won't suffice.

Being respectful and conscious, I slip the dress off her shoulders easily. Her chest pops out surprisingly. I cover it back up and unbutton my dress shirt, pulling it behind her back. I button two middle buttons so she can be covered while I slip off the rest of the dress.

I pull the dress across the room and drape it over the couch before coming back to finish pulling Reagan's arms through the shirt and finally pulling the duvet covers over her chilled body.

She curls into the pillow beside her, gripping it. Her wedding ring shines in the moonlight. I look at the silver band around my ring finger that matches hers.

It'll be frowned upon if people find out that we are sleeping in separate rooms. Tomorrow she'll move into my room. Tonight she can be by herself.

For our honeymoon, I'm going to take her on our yacht and we'll travel out through the Mediterranean and back. Though I am happy to have a month of break, I know for a fact it'll get cut short some way.

I make my way to my room, strip off my clothes until I'm in boxers, pulling on a pair of sweat pant shorts before falling into my bed, laying over top of the covers, falling asleep instantly.

I hear the pitter patter of Lorenzo and Buchanon as they waltz in, laying down on their beds beside mine. Their breathing calms and they soon drift as well.

The morning comes too soon. I naturally wake up just after four. I rise from my bed, stretching out my back as I walk into the bathroom. I take a quick shower, and when I get out I wrap the towel around my hips while I go to my closet, taking out a simple black t-shirt and dark wash jeans.

By the time I'm fully ready for the day, it's quarter to five. I leave my room, making my way to the kitchen for some food. When I get down there, Reagan is surprisingly already down here. Her hair is done up in a messy bun and she still has my button up on. It does down close to her mid-thigh. Only a few buttons are buttoned so it's loose and looks better on her than it does on me.

She is leaning against the island in the kitchen, picking at a plate of food while there is a glass of orange juice beside her. She glances back at me, her eyes moving up and down my frame.

Her wedding makeup is slightly smudged. She looks exhausted. "Morning." Her soft voice chirps.

Morning? I just nod my head to her, walking to the first fridge, opening it and grabbing an apple. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Reagan take a look at her plate, glancing from it to my small portion of breakfast. Out of low self esteem, she pushes the plate from where she sits, standing up about to leave.

"Where are you going?" I question, taking a bite of my apple.

She stops, turning to look at me. "I was going to my room." She answers.

"You haven't finished your breakfast." I point out, motioning to the plate of fresh eggs and bacon that she must have made up herself.

She glances at the plate nervously. "I'm just not hungry anymore." She lies. Don't lie to me, Reagan.

"Reagan," She bites her lip nervously, hugging herself involuntarily. "Finish your breakfast." I ordered.

"You can have it if you would like. I'm just going to take a shower." She begins to walk away.

"Reagan..." I call out again.

She stops in her tracks, turning around to look at me. "Hmm?" She hums.

"Finish your meal." I command of her. "I won't ask again." My tone hardens.

Reagan looks at me with a frustrated, fed up look. From the times I have conversed with her, she has always defied me. That won't fly in the long run. She'll have to learn to listen. I don't have time to train her to do so. Nor do I have the patients.

"I said I'm not hungry. I'm going to take a shower now." She scoffs, turning away from me oh so bravely.

"Two things can happen right now. I'll allow you to choose. Either you do as you're told and eat your food where I can trust you'll do it while I go off. Or I do it for you. Spoonful, but spoonful." I say with a cold tone. "You can decide."

Her breathing hitches. Her eyes widened. She hurries to the island and takes a seat. "You can go off now." She answers quietly.

I smile, satisfied as I walk out of the kitchen. "When I come back, your plate will be clean."

Thoughts?