Page 116 of The Breaking Pointe
I want to talk about it, but between the honorably positive vibes tonight and my grieving boyfriend, it seems there’s no room for my whining.Which is bold of me to assume anybody wants to hear about it, regardless.
Finishing the application of apple-red lipstick on my lips, I pat underneath each eye with a wipe, attempting to clean any left-over mascara I missed from my latest crying expo.I stand from my vanity, straightening out the material of my dress as I walk over to my bed, sitting near the velvet heels I picked to match my rusty, red colored dress. I pick them up, unstrapping the ankle buckles and setting them in front of my feet to slip on, being greeted with a knock on my door as I do.
“It’s open. I’m hurrying, I swear.” I sniffle between my words, already exhausted from human interaction.
“Elle, it’s me, sweetheart.”I watch as Colton slips his way into the room, keeping the door shut to an extent.
He relieves me of the party anxiety in an instant.
“Just as I suspected.Looking angelic, as always.”He smiles.Sniffling once more, I raise my head to welcomehis presence, noticing both of his arms stay locked behind his back as he watches me strap each shoe.
His cheekssoftenashissmiledissipates.
“You know, a woman as astonishing as you should be smiling. She should only be acquainted with happiness, and accompanied by the brightest of smiles.” He casually takes a few steps toward me. “Can I offer something to make my woman feel a little more at ease?”
He’s so eloquent.How don’t you fall in love with it? Standing up, I’m able to meet his height, almost perfectly.
I lazily nod as I grasp onto his cardigan, scaling my gaze
up his pure white turtle neck, meeting my eyes with his.His curly hair is still damp looking and gelled, with one Superman curl hanging in the front. One of his hands finds comfort on my hip, and the other reveals a flower bouquet with purples, yellows, and whites, popping up from behind his back like a clever magic trick.
Each color makes my lifeless pout revert into a smile that widens more when I look him in the eyes.
“Mine?”Ispeculate.
“Yours,” he confirms, kissing me on the forehead. “Behold—that sweet smile that I love to see.”
“Thank you.They’re beautiful,” I say, taking them and bringing them to my nose to sniff.
Looking at him again, I use my nails to prod at the fabric around his neck.
“You look really handsome, by the way.The turtleneck is always sexy on you.”I bounce my eyebrows, dragging my finger down his chest. “I guess I’ll be watching you all night.”
Ever so gently, he pushes his glasses up, biting his lip. “Don’t look too hard.”His hand pulls my body closer, his grip finding my ass.“You might start something,” he whispers, kissing my bare shoulder.
Closing my eyes as his lips touch my skin, I open them to look at him while I speak.
“Don’t worry.I know how to finish it,” I ensure him, palming his chest and dragging my hand down further, meeting his crotch to give it a squeeze.
He groans, quickly containing it while watching me turn away, taking my hand with me.
“We should go.”I glance at him.“Before people start to
wonder where we are,” I add as I approach the door.
He looks at me as if he’s hypnotized before blinking rapidly and followingme.Iholdmyhand out,wigglingmyfingers.
He takes it, following closely behind me, speaking lowly in my ear.
“You…are a very bad girl,” he hums before kissing my ear.
* * *
For a man who weighs more than two hundred pounds, and most of it being muscle, I wouldn’t expect Colton to not be able to hold his alcohol.Four glasses of cognac and he’s still going.I wonder if he’s even counting.I also wonder ifI should be scared of the man he might become later when we’re alone.Is Wasted Colton still as sweet as the Sober Colton? Or is he more like an evil twin? Then again, it could be the depression talking. It is his first holiday without his mom.Instead of crying about losing her, he’s drinking about it. I can’t bring myself to stop him, only for the fact that for the first time since she passed, it seems like his smile is a true one, and his happiness isn’t just him playing a game to please others.
That’sgottacountforsomething.Right?
“Elle.You want more cider?”Lauren asks, prancingover to where I stand stationed in the dining area, watching Cole have intoxicated interactions with Lauren’s cousin and Tony.
