Callon quietly mouths the word 'go' to me, but, yet again, I ignore him. All I can do is just stand there, staring at Dorian because...I want him to see me. I want him to grab me, gather me in his arms, and then just take me away to a different place. A place where I can be with him forever.
"Callon, is your intention to anger me? Because if it is, you are succeeding quite well," Dorian seethes, "Remove your hand from me, Callon. Hesitate for even a moment and I'll personally break your fingers one by one."
"Please, pardon me, Master Dorian. I am only doing this for the sake of the wedding," Callon explains himself with a small voice, eyes still trained on me.
With a long sigh, I finally take my leave. As I take a turn in the hall, the sound of Dorian's rising voice and Callon's falling voice greets me. I can only hope that Dorian does not go through with his threat toward Callon. After all, it was my fault that Callon had to cover Dorian's eyes in the first place. If Callon didn't, I'm sure Dorian would have ripped the dress off of me and–...
I press my hands to my heated face, groaning. I'm desperately craving him, even as I'm walking down the halls. It's a shameless type of hunger that has me fantasizing about him fucking me senselessly until I'm a mess. This fantasy has my cheeks and the tips of my ears painted red. The heat on my skin does not relent, but I accept it wholeheartedly. Let me suffer, let me yearn, let me pine for him. For, once he is gone, that is all I'll be able to do and nothing more.
I enter my room, not even bothering to shut the door behind me. My soft bed greets me with warmth as I fall down into it, careful not to let any of the silver dust on my face rub off. However, my caution soon withers away when I let myself drift off to sleep with a dull pain in my stomach and heart.
____
"Miss, Miss! Oh, mighty beasts, give me strength!" A frantic voice brings me out of my sleep. "Please, wake up! Please, you're already late for your entrance! Everyone's waiting for you! Master Dorian is waiting for y–..."
I shoot upward, eyes widening as I scramble to get out of bed. The back of my hand frantically swipes away at the drool that had fallen down my chin. Unfortunately, as I take a look in the mirror, I discover that a bit of drool is the least of my worries.
My hair looks as if I had welcomed birds to nest in it while I was sleeping. The claw that once held my hair in a nice bun is dangling by my shoulder blade. I cringe at the sight of it.
"How could you go from looking like a beauty gifted from the skies above to a gremlin cursed from the land below our feet?" She feverishly mutters this, forcibly pushing me to the mirror, where she takes a brush, quickly and painfully taming my hair. "There's no time to properly arrange your hair again. You'll just have to let it freely flow around you, just make sure not to let it hide your face. Your face must always be in full view or else..."
Her rambling continues on until I'm finally back to looking almost perfect. I'm thankful for the change in appearance though. The perfect bride that had peered back at me earlier was not me. This, this wild, far-from-flawless bride is me, and I'm proud to admit that. I turn to Selene, momentarily gazing at her before pulling her into a tight hug.
"Thank you for everything," I express my gratitude, a smile appearing on my face as I feel her arms hesitantly wrap around me.
YOU ARE READING
My F*cked Up Fairytale
FantasyTEASER: "No fiancée of mine needs to learn how to fight." His breath flows upon the prickling skin of my neck. I close my eyes, involuntarily shuddering in response. "All you need to know how to do is satisfy me." "How exactly am I supposed...
