Aurora's Point Of View

"I think I'm gonna have the sparkling champagne. What about you, pretty baby? Rosé?"

"Arlan, I'm eighteen, not twenty-one," I give him a judging look in disbelief, agitated he would offer.

We sat alone in the restaurant he privated off for us, his black hair slicked back cleanly behind his head, while an all black, satin tux adorned him. Meanwhile, my hair had been curled from the large rollers Elise held them in (which almost burned my face), my face caked with foundation and eyeshadows she added. Candles lit around the perimeter gave light to the dimness of the room, the sleek white tablecloth and red rose bouquet in the centre of the table emitting an aura of elegance and esteem. A warm, brick fireplace's crackling cacophony gave a soft and ambient comfort.

"Pshh, so what?" He flippintly laughed. "You're with me, dove, it's okay. Besides, I kinda wanna see you tipsy, I think it'd be funny."

I give him a pointed look. Setting down my menu, I uncomfortably smooth my palms over my satin-dress covered legs, looking down. The expensive and high-class environment we were in made me uncomfortable, I felt so out of place.

"Arlan, I told you, I have a lot of homework...I really think we should just go."

"Please, I already took care of that. I gave Nate your assignments so we'd completely have the night to each other."

Great. I'd just gotten on good-footing with Nate, and now because of me he had double the workload of homework to finish. And Arlan wanted to have the night completely to ourselves...

I gulped nervously.

"You look exquisite, Dove, just...so ravishingly magnificent," He whispered the last part in a low rasp and bit his cherry-crushed full bottom lip. His golden jade irises raked my lower body, then met my timid eyes. "Like baby blue stardust. I knew that dress would compliment you deliciously. And Elise did your makeup and curls so perfectly. I've never seen you look like such a woman," His eyes met mine and burned fires of lust.

"Stop, don't say that about my body," I mumbled in embarrassment, making him grumble a laugh as he reached over to smooth my bare arm up and down.

"Never. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. And anyway, aren't you happy to be out of the house, besides school? Now you can actually have fun."

"So much fun," I deadpan.

He raises a glass of water to his lips as his eyes look at me with irritation over the glass. He sets it down and holds out both of his hands on the table, expecting mine. I reluctantly lift my arms and set my hands in his, his ring-covered thumbs rubbing my hands up and down.

"So, tell me about your classes. Are you enjoying veteranarism, are you being punctual to class, getting along with your professors?"

I sighed beneath my breath, running my hands along my dress.

"I am enjoying it all, actually. I've never been so interested in class and it's cause I really care about what I'm learning. I have this one professor who wears funny ties every other class, like one with pugs on it."

"Well, I'll for sure have to find out where to get myself one," He sent me a wink and a smile started spreading involuntarily before I quickly realized and stopped it.

"I'm so glad you're enjoying it and we agreed to this, Dove. And where did you meet this Hadley girl?"

"Oh," I set my glass of water down after gulping a sip, "She's actually in that class."

He smirked at me again.

"How cute. Two little bookworms."

I bit my lip hesitantly and shrugged a little bit.

"Why didn't you want to go to college?" I ask suddenly.

His fingers tighten on mine and suddenly I regret asking a personal question.

"I didn't think I'd have the means to. There wasn't anything left in my name, I had to fend for myself."

"I understand."

Arlan looked off, and I can't help but remember my conversation in the creek with Elise about his mother.

"Arlan...I'm just sorry about the incident with the perfume, and how crude I was...I'm just really sorry," I blurt before I can stop myself and he looks a bit stunned at me.

"Let's just put it behind us, okay?" he says hesitantly, then smiles, kissing my left hand.

"Okay," I nod and he opens my palm before peppering little kisses all over it. I giggled under my breath. "That tickles, hey."

"Sorry, my love, I'm addicted."

I pull my hand away as he snickers.

"Can...I ask you a favor?" I say hesitantly.

"Sure."

I sighed under my breath, playing with my fingers nervously.

"Could you please stop calling me 'Dove'? ...It makes me feel like you think you own me."

His jade eyes domineer into mine, eyeing me calculatedly.

"I do own you," He stated boldly.

"Good Evening, may I start you both off with horderves?" A waiter had approached before I could process what just happened.

I stared at Arlan, horrified. My breathing picked up at his words and I felt my hands grow clammy. How could he say that?

"We have freshly baked bruschetta with smoked brie and herbed salmon crostini with chive," The waiter in pristine, satin black uniform listed.

"I'll take the lemon drizzled Blini with caviar and a glass of bourbon, with a cherry, on the rocks, to start," Arlan orders while never taking his eyes off me, crossing his leg and handing the waiter his menu. I exhale in disbelief.

When the waiter promptly finished writing, he took the menu and turned to me. My face burned looking at the intimidating waiter and I pathetically looked to Arlan. I couldn't remember any of the fancy words he said, so I thought Arlan would just pick something for me. Except Arlan said nothing, looking to me expectingly to answer on my own.

"Um...I'm okay," I told the waiter nervously to which he nodded with a warm smile and left us two be.

"Arlan?" I questioned his lack of help.

"Aurora, you're eighteen now. And while I'll always protect you from the bottom of my heart, I want you to start exercising some confidence in yourself."

"I just...I don't know any fancy things."

"Neither did I when I first got my wealth. You pretend you do, and no one knows the difference. Anyone will believe what you sell them you are."

Yeah, no kidding.

I licked my lips and sighed, rubbing my arm.

"Can we talk about what you just said before? I don't like that."

"You don't like what? That I own you?" He, again, spoke boldly, not blinking.

Tense silence settled in the air for a few beats as I said nothing.

"Face it, Aurora, are you not completely reliant on me?" His head cocked to the side as his eyes squinted slightly in a cold, belittling manner.

"Is that what you want?" My brow furrowed in disgust at his cruelty. "Just someone to be reliant on you? So you feel needed?"

"I won't deny it makes me feel satisfied. But you and I both know, I have real, true, deep feelings for you, as well, and you have them for me too, even if you don't want to admit it. The sparkle in your eyes when you look at me...the bounce and lilt in your laughter around me...the way you touch me and seek comfort in me...you may even be close to loving me."

Delusional! He's God damn delusional!

"Do you actually love me or am I just a distraction?" I spit out before I can think.

He looked genuinely wounded by the question, taken aback, his cold expressions falling. Then, he was angry. His hands clenched the table, knuckles growing white. I swallowed dryly. Maybe it was a low blow, maybe I shouldn't have ticked him off, but I couldn't help it. It felt like what I said was true.

"If you were just a distraction, I'd've fucked you by now."

The waiter approached us again before I had time to react to his words. My stomach pooled with anxiety. As the waiter carefully assembled Arlan's drink and herderves on the table, my rapid heartbeat pounded in my ear drums.

"Lemon drizzled Blini with caviar and a glass of bourbon, with a cherry, on the rocks," The waiter recited.

"Thank you," Arlan nodded to the waiter.

I awkwardly put my hands between my thighs and rocked back and forth, Arlan was lightly seething.

"Thank you," I quietly, but politely, said when my glass of lemon water was refilled. I raised it to take a sip after the waiter left when I noticed Arlan grimacing, holding his silverware. I scoffed, as if to ask why he had such an expression.

"To insinuate there's a a lack of legitimacy to our relationship, and it's on my behalf, is incredibly insulting. 'Distraction'," He repeats with a scoff in disgust.

"Arlan, I was just asking a question," -

"Yeah, well, you've asked enough damn questions!" He forcefully threw his fork down to his plate , the loud clambering sound making me flinch hard and gasp.

"Enough! Just STOP!" He gestured outwardly with his hands. "You think I don't own you? You think you don't completely need me? Who's putting a roof over your head, paying your college tuition, who paid for the toothpaste you used to brush your fucking teeth this morning? Who clothes you, makes sure you're bathed, feeds you? Who risks everything to give you anything you want, all the things you've never had? I do. I do it fucking all, and never with so much as a fucking thank you from you. But it's okay, I do it anyway, because I fucking need you too.

I need your warmth, your docile nature, your soft fingers on my skin, your infectious scent and shyness. I need the lilt of your timid voice in the evening and the soft, sleepy raspy voice of yours in the morning. I need your giggles of joy and even your fiery sass and petulant, argumentative nature when you fight me. I need it all. And no, I'm not just using you as a distraction. It's deeper than that, deeper and wider than any abyss you could visualize. I care about you, I'm in love with you, it consumes every molecule of my whole being. You're all I think about all day and all I dream about when I sleep, Aurora. You're everything I want and everything I've ever needed."

My heart was tugging with intense emotion. With romantic and meaningful language like that, it was hard not to believe him, hard not to get choked up. I was overwhelmed, confused. Arlan kidnapped me and stole me from the life I knew, yet when he spoke from his heart like that, it almost persuaded me he wasn't crazy; He was just in love, he was deeply in love with me. I never thought anyone could love me, let alone be as passionately and intensely in love with me as Arlan proposed he was.

But I could not ignore the fact that he forced me to live with him against my will. That's what Arlan failed to understand. Had he gone about things a different way, the situation would be different. I probably would have dated and liked him, maybe even fallen in love with him. But he stole that from me. He robbed me of the freedom to a choice in the matter. He robbed me of having the choice of what to do with my life. He wanted to dictate the story line all on his own accord, to get the ending he wanted. But that's not how real life works. You can't operate other people's decisions and behaviors, you can't act upon that entitlement. You can't own people, that isn't love. People either choose to be with us, or they don't, and he took advantage of me without letting me choose for myself.

"Tell me about your family," the words leave my lips before I register. My skin feels cold when I realize I've made the utmost bold move I'd ever done in front of him.

Arlan's upper lip twitches slightly as he is clearly caught off guard. His eyes dim.

"What...why?" He says softly, the subject clearly being a soft spot for him. He adjusts the cufflinks on his tux slightly, uncomfortable. He's squirming now.

"Because," I explain softly, almost in a whisper, "If you love me, and want me to love you, I need to know you are-who you really are...where you come from, and how it influenced who you are today. I need you to open up and be vulnerable in the way you've made me vulnerable to you."

Arlan held my gaze with smoldering, jade irises, not saying anything. He was challenging my request with frustrated eyes and a cold gaze. I knew I was being confident and bold, but I deserved to know. He evaded my gaze.

"Arlan," Exasperatedly, I say.

"Fine," He quickly interjects quietly, shutting me up.

His eyes remain on the plush, blue velvet carpeted floors, not meeting mine. His Adam's Apple bobs lightly as he swallows, then he licks his crushed, red lips. Nervously, he adjusts the rings on his hands. I don't want to push any further, so I'm quiet until he's ready to begin. After a minute of silence goes by, I'm hoping he hasn't changed his mind, but rather, is mentally preparing himself. I need to know the story of his parents, the kind of pain he went through that Elise had mentioned in the creek.

"I don't...think about my childhood a lot. I guess that's why I joined the mafia and threw myself into it, became the boss. That was the true distraction."

I was quiet, not rushing him, allowing himself to collect his thoughts while eyeing him curiously.

"There was a fifteen year old girl, living in poverty who found herself infatuated with her next door neighbor. They started dating, much to her parents dismay, and eventually..she became pregnant. That's where," his eyes are now back on mine, "I come into play."

Adjusting a large, navy blue square ring on his pointer finger back and forth, he licked his lips again.

"I was born Friday the 13th of March. It was pouring rain, my mother's parent's didn't come, and my father kept drunkenly yelling at her to name me after him when they brought me home. But my mom kept looking at me, and she said that by the look on my face, I didn't fit my father's name," His brow was crinkled as his face was deep in thought, recalling the story. "So she named me Arlan. She knew it was a little odd, no other boy would have my name, but it was her defiance and liberation against her parents and my father for mistreating her...picking a unique name all on her own. My dad would call me A-boy, never referring to me by my name."

"My father was always drunk," He shrugged just slightly, "I don't think there was ever a time I'd seen him sober. He was sick, and he wanted my mom to be sick. She had obviously stopped drinking while she was pregnant, but after I was born, he was pushing bottles to her whenever he could," His eyes seemed to get glossy as his throat locked. Some emotion flipped in him as he swallowed. "Yeah," He curtly concluded. He was silent for another minute, before he took a deep breath.

"My dad was an angry, angry man...no matter if someone did something, or didn't, he was angry, and drunk always. I would wake up to the sound of bottles shattering, my mom screaming...I would come in, scared, and he would burn his cigarette in my arm to get me to leave, or lock me in a closet to hear the two of them fighting.

My mom would take me to feed the duck's on Sundays, and I loved being away from my father with her. We cooked those microwavable pizzas together, did crossword puzzles...it was all fun. We were each other's friend."

His eyes lowered slightly, and I could tell he was withholding a lot more painful information but couldn't get himself to say it. I'm assuming, his mother's death, and its affect on him. But I dare not to press, he was already saying so much, I felt like I was unlocking so much of what I never knew. His eyes met mine, and instead of the usual bold, storminess of his fiery jade eyes, they were softer.

"I remember standing on her feet when she taught me how to walk as a toddler. She'd hold my hands and carefully step around the room, my feet over hers. I've got angel wings tattooed on each of my feet now. So everytime I walk...she's guiding me."

When I was sure he was done talking, and silence had ensued, I rose abruptly from my seat, cupped his face and crushed my lips to his. He was admittedly shocked, not responding for a second but then kissed back softly, and for the first time, I felt some sort of emotion when he kissing him. In fact, I was overwhelmed with emotion. I was hurting for him, sad for him, angry at his father, sad about his mother, and somewhat relieved that he actually opened up to me. After a couple of minutes, I pulled back with a gasp.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..I-it was just in the moment, you know," I awkwardly stammered, sitting down, smoothing my dress.

"It's okay," He said softly, rubbing his thumb along his lip.

I was a bit caught off guard by his tone. Usually, he'd smirk and give some kind of cocky remark like 'I knew you couldn't resist me, baby love.' Instead, he looked melancholy.

"Arlan...I'm sorry, and thank you for opening up to me. It means a lot," I spoke slowly, gently. "I know it's hard. I know you probably don't tell most people. It's just, when we met, I thought I knew you, and then I felt like I completely didn't know who you were. And now, I feel like the picture is a little clearer."

A little half-smile formed on his cherry colored lips.

"I hope you truly know, now, how much I care about you. I keep trying to make that clear, but if it's what it comes down to, I'll be vulnerable and break down my walls for you, Aurora."

We both were clearly shaken up by what we talked about, and I rubbed my arm, my head overcrowded and anxious. A lot happened so quickly. First, he made me aggravated and forlorn with his "I own you" bullshit, and now, here I was, almost crying about his devastating childhood. I feared him, I felt sorry for him, I didn't know what to feel...

"So...that alcohol you mentioned," I said, flicking my eyes to him.