Author's Notes: In honor of me having just been reading Carmen, I'm naming the character in here after one of the characters from it (since I was totally like 'Oh my god! I LOVE THAT NAME!'). SO yeah. Yay for the name Dancaïre and it's sexiness! Woot! Vlatko and Zora, too! Mind you, the last two aren't that weird of names…They're kind of popular in Macedonia, Serbia, and Croatia. MM. Sexy people those 'uns. So yay! Just so you know, Dancaïre is pronounced "don-care". Don like Don Jose don. So yeah. Woot. This idea came to me while I was innocently eating pizza and watching someone get mauled by a bear. Yes. My mind is that ADD.
I brush down my dyed white hair with a small smile stretching across my tan colored lips, of which are just a shade lighter than the caramel tone that coats the rest of my body. My gray eyes seem icy as I drift off into a daydream while I look in the mirror. I get to spend the night at my girlfriend Zora's house tonight. She always raves about how none of her other boyfriend's ever got to stay over, but for some reason her father, Vlatko lets me stay.
I know why he lets me stay, but hopefully she never will.
Vlatko and Zora look surprisingly alike to me. They both have dark black hair and deeply tanned skin that makes it look like they've spent all of their lives basking in the sunlight of the Mediterranean even though Zora has never once been to their homeland. Vlatko has, and though Zora doesn't know why he moved to America, I do. Vlatko shares these things with me.
He trusts me more than any other boy, but only I know why.
Zora immediately throws her arms around me as I walk into their huge three-story house that looks more like a mansion. I have to dress like I'm upper-class just to be allowed into the home, because Vlatko is impressed most by money. He always wears clothes that are top-of-the-line, and so does Zora.
I have to admit, Zora still lacks the sophistication of her father, but I assume this is because she doesn't understand the lack of money a family has in their homeland. I do, because I've listened to him. Unlike selfish Zora, I care to know about their family's history and culture.
Vlatko immediately kisses my cheek when I enter, and I do the same without hesitation. Zora scrunches up her nose in disgust, seemingly unknowing that from my homeland, hugs aren't the typical greeting. In fact, no one hugs one another except for lover's who embrace. I don't mind her disgust, though. I'm used to Zora's cultural misunderstandings.
"Zdravo, Dancaïre! How are you?" He exclaims with a beaming smile. I nod my head in respect and tell him that I'm fine, preparing to ask how he is as well before Zora pulls me against my will towards her bedroom.
"It's okay," he calls from the doorway in a slightly perturbed voice. "I'm going to go get dinner! I'll be back in half an hour!"
"I don't know why you talk to him," she says with a roll of her eyes, sitting down on the bed. "He's not that interesting, Dan."
"He's very interesting, but that must be because he's not my father. Besides, I'm on his good side since I talk to him, why not let me?" I say this with a straight face, smiling as I sit down next to her and pull my arm around her waist.
She leans her head on my shoulder with a scoff and then kisses my neck. "Let's not talk of him, hm? In fact, let's not talk at all."
"American women," Vlatko says with a snort as he pulls his arms around me, just like he has so many times before. I lean my head forward and onto his bare chest, staring up at him with loving content. "I can't stand them."
"Hn," I say as I move my face closer to his, briefly giving him a kiss. "Well, we won't have to worry about them. I put Zora's sleeping pills in her drink. She'll be out all night."
"Hm, but certainly not my Dancaïre! He will be wide awake," he says, leaning in to kiss me hungrily this time. I shake and press myself against him, feeling the blood rush to my face as I move to tower over him more. My teeth graze his bottom lip before I realize his lips entirely, and I move my own further down his neck. I align our hips, and he moves his hands to grab onto mine, pressing us together more so than before.
I moan into his neck, but continue further downward, soon reaching the belt of his pants. It doesn't take me long to remove them, despite not actually looking as I place a hickey next to his belly button. I never get to mark him in plain sight, but I don't mind.
It's not long before my teeth reach other parts of his body, and he moans in appreciation. I always feel honored to please him as I do, and as Vlatko believes in giving everyone the best he has to offer, I always seem to get double the pleasure than him. He doesn't complain, though. In fact, I know he loves to hear me panting from underneath him. He moans if I get too loud, just because that's how he likes things.
I'm always happy to oblige him.
I slip my fingers through Vlatko's hair and moan as my glaze eyes suddenly fall upon the screeching door. It's only midnight, but the door opens to reveal Zora "Zora!" I gasp out, causing Vlatko to look upwards. I'm horror-stricken, but his suddenly lack of attention still makes me shake with want. My body is torn between wanting the pleasure I was receiving, and the moral need to stop as Zora enters the room.
"Agh!" She's speechless, and by the time Vlatko whips his head around she has already slammed the door shut. Vlatko looks up at me and I give a slight whimper. I was so close to getting want I wanted, and Zora just had to go and ruin it!
"Dancaïre, I- We need to go talk to her. Go take a shower, yes?" He looks at me, and I can tell from his expression that he's sorry. I mutter swears mentally, and he lifts his head to kiss me softly in apology. "I will make sure she is not as mad for when you speak."
My beautiful Vlatko then denies me his touch and runs around his room, applying his clothing in an amazingly dignified manner despite his obvious worries. I slip on my pants (rather painfully) and duck my way into their bathroom.
When I walk out, I'm frighteningly calm. I do not know what my Vlatko has told Zora, but it doesn't matter since our secrets have been set free. Zora immediately seems to flare up in anger as her eyes fall onto me, and I lower mine to the floor.
"Eyes up, Dancaïre. There is no point in your frowning. Come. Sit next to me," says Vlatko with a soft tone. I obey him and sit next to him, and he immediately pulls me up against him. He kisses my cheek, and I return the simple gesture. Zora looks even more disgusted then normal as she suddenly stands up.
"I knew something was wrong with both of you!"
"Zora! Disrespect will not be accepted," shouted Vlatko in his deep voice. She silenced and threw her eyes to the floor. It didn't matter if Zora didn't know her father's homeland; Zora still knew of her father's rage. "Dancaïre is a good boy, and it was I who started this. We both mutually found interest in one another. Do not be so heartless towards Dancaïre. I made him lie to you further."
"He-..I…No! This isn't true at all, Dan. I won't believe it! I-I…I love you! And…and … and you have a child coming that would love you, too."
I went ridged. Vlatko didn't seem angry with me. He told me to keep his daughter happy, and I always did what she wanted. He knew this. Still, he seemed angry at her. He knew if anything happened I wouldn't press for it.
"Zora. Why did you disgrace yourself like that? What man will wish your hand in marriage now!?" shouts Vlatko, shaking with his rage. I run a hand up and down his back to soothe him, though it doesn't make any difference towards his mood.
"I had hoped that Dancaïre would, but I would be far beyond disgusted at his hand!"
Vlatko's body shook further and he stood up, gripping her arm. "You have no choice, Zora! I will not allow this! Dancaïre, you are a good boy. Will you take responsibility for your half of this consequence upon my daughter?"
I brush down my dyed white hair with a small frown stretching across my tanned lips, of which are just a shade lighter than the caramel tone that coats the rest of my body. My body used to belong to two people at once, but now it belongs to no one as I have shamed myself forever. And who will wish my hand in marriage now?
None, as if I can not have my Vlatko, no one will have me.
No one but the razorblade that falls against the floor.