This story starts out with me in jail... and ends with me in jail.
But that's sort of suitable for a story about myself, is it not?
This is more or less a telling of me falling in love with a man I gravely didn't deserve, and him changing my life in...
Second upload and 3400 words, ya girls on a roll (will edit these tomorrow) Love y'all sm <3 xoxo Warning: Explicit Content... kinda sorta, you be the judge ;)
Derek
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Present time: 3:47AM
"So I just want to say-"
"Derek." John shot me a glance from his stance in the holding cell. He was leaning again the metal bars, his bruised knuckles tucked tight under his massive arms. He no longer had on his champagne colored jacket, just the black button up shirt and dress pants.
Was the jacket still at the event?
I looked down in disappointment at my own now wine stained suit jacket.
"Not now. Please."
"Oh no I'd love to hear what he has to say." Pierre grumbled from the bench in the back, but he kept his voice low. He was holding a piece of ice to the cut on his face. That's all the guards would give him.
"Honestly, me too." Steve nodded in agreement.
At least I think that's what he introduced himself as.
He was sitting next to Pierre, trying to get the pissed off joke of a man to join a game of tic-tac-toe that he started with a white pebble he found somewhere, and the cement bench.
"In my defense-"
"Baby," John cut in. His eyes darkened some as he looked over at me, and I suddenly busied myself the metal shavings peeling from some of the bars.
That had got to be some sort violation for this place. But then again we were in a precinct holding cell.
"All three of you came in looking like this and none of y'all are talking? A damn shame." Steve continued, gesturing to the game he set up for him and Pierre, but Pierre just continued ignoring him.
I would've played too if I wasn't under John's direct orders to remain quiet, stay near him, and wait for Don.
-
6 Hours Before Present Time...
John and I carried on with dinner through the dining hall.
I was on cloud fucking nine because the only open space Pierre could find once he arrived, was the last table near the door. This meant dinner actually went on uninterrupted.
Olaf dove in to talking about his latest ventures as we ate, and I was absolutely mesmerized. I had no idea he knew John so well either, which made me even more nervous to be at this prestige table. I also didn't know what half the utensils on the table were for.
It was Marty who put my mind at ease some, tapping me on my shoulder and leaning in to whisper "I can eat practically anything, but I'm drawing the line at whatever the hell this is." He pointed to a weirdly pink paste mush thing.
