Page 3 of August and the Night

She has always been the stunner, the perfect one, and the one people were captivated by. After that conversation she had with me, though, I stopped minding. I could tell that she wasn't in any competition with me; she was just being herself. Also, she was enough for me. She always made sure to hang out with me, helped me with school work, and was my shoulder to cry on. She took on the roles of my mother, sister, and best friend, which is why I always clap at her success instead of feeling threatened by it, because she deserved it.

I leap down the stairs of the mansion, not forgetting to take my coat with me. As I bend down to put on my shoes, I hear one of the mansion's servants clear his throat behind me. "Your father is coming today from his trip to Spain. He told us to prepare dinner today at six for him and you girls," he mutters with a gentle voice.

"Thank you for informing me, Charles. I'll be there," I say, but my voice lacks enthusiasm. I'm not really that close with my father. Lily and I were thinking of ordering takeout tonight, and with him coming over, those plans are definitely canceled. He would have an aneurysm if he saw us eating pizza, as he's always conscious about our weight.

I sigh as I leave the house and tell John, my bodyguard and driver, to take me to the university. I get into the backseat of the car and lay my head on the window while I watch as the rain falls freely. I love the rain, but even it can't cheer me up at the news of my father's arrival. I notice John staring at me from his rearview mirror before he asks, "Is everything okay, Layla? Is your thesis going alright?"

"Yes, John, don't worry. I'll have another publication soon, hopefully," I say, trying to inject enthusiasm into my voice.

"That's my girl! Soon you'll have a Master's degree in Cancer Biology! I can't wait to tell Linda!" he says excitedly, and I can't help but smile widely. John is in his fifties, but he's very well-built and a perfect bodyguard. I just know that he would take a bullet for me. He started to notice how I lacked parental figures in my life almost as soon as he started working and made it his and his wife's mission to fill that role. Linda, his wife, always invites me over for home-cooked meals, and even though we have professional cooks at the mansion, her food always tastes better, like the home I never had.

"We'll throw a dinner party in your honor! This is so exciting, my Layla!" he continues with enthusiasm, and I laugh.

"I can't wait for that, John! I miss Linda's cooking," I say, and he stops the car near my university before turning around and giving me a container of food.

"You're in luck then! She made lasagna yesterday and made sure to leave you some. She knows it's your favorite," he tells me, and I snatch the container from his hand and run to my class while he laughs.

4

Layla

Sitting in my cozy corner of the lab, my eyes fixate on the microscope, a rush of excitement courses through my veins. Cancer biology is my passion, hence why I am currently pursuing a master's degree in it. The journey has been tedious, but my love for the field keeps me going.

My thesis work is one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life, but the sense of accomplishment is what keeps me going. As I delve into my own research within the lab, I revel in the opportunity to contribute to the fight against cancer. Every cell I study, every experiment I conduct, brings me closer to unraveling the mysteries of this relentless disease. The lab becomes my sanctuary, where I put all my pent-up energy, much like how some people go to the gym to de-stress, I go to my lab.

In the midst of my research, my stomach grumbles, reminding me that it is already one pm and I still haven’t had breakfast. I take off my gloves, hang up my lab coat, wash my hands, and sit on one of the benches outside the lab. I grab the container of food John gave me and eat the cold lasagna. It is still absolutely delicious despite being cold, and Linda truly is an amazing cook. The sound of a message vibrating my phone catches my attention, and I reach for it.

I almost choke on the piece of lasagna in my mouth when I see that the text is from August, quickly reaching for my bottle of water to wash it down. After my little embarrassing fit, I take a deep breath and open the text.

"Hey love, how are you?" - August

I wait a couple of minutes before replying, not wanting to seem too hasty to answer. With shaky fingers, I type out,

"Fine, how are you?" - Me

"Good, missed me?" - August

"Hahaha no offense, but not really. I don’t know you enough to miss you," I type, knowing fully well that I am lying.

"You wound me. How about we rectify that?" - August

"What do you mean?" - Me

"Can I take you out on a date tonight? It’s a sushi restaurant on a beautiful rooftop. I know you would love it." - August

I contemplate the idea. If I am being true to myself, there is nothing I want more. But I have dinner tonight with my father, and he would be pissed if I don’t attend. I seem to take a long time contemplating because he texts,

"I promise I am not a serial killer, love" - August

I can’t help but laugh that bubbles from inside of me before I respond jokingly,

"And how can I know that for sure?" - Me

"Believe me, the only screams I want coming out of you are that of pleasure" - August

My mouth goes slack as I look at the message, my heart beating fast, and my face bright red. I can’t believe he just texted me that. If it were any other guy but August, I would have immediately blocked him. But this man, I want him to do things to me I never thought of before. I want him inside of me, on top of me, his lips on mine, and his breath in my ear.

I am nothing if not a good reflector of my emotions, and what I see in me scares me. I am ecstatic that he sees me in a sexual way and that he is attracted to me. All my life, I have never been the one with those thoughts directed towards, and my body is going haywire with just the mere idea that a man like August wants me to scream for him.

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