I hate waiting. Time always drags on the longest when I'm waiting. I've been waiting three hours for my boyfriend to call me and apologize. We had a fight. We always fight, but this seemed more serious than most. He's just tense from all his troubles at home. That's how I justify the fact that he hits me. It didn't hurt so much, really. I do love him, don't get me wrong. I'm probably putting him in a terrible light by saying that about him, but I can't deny the truth. He really is a great man.
It was a love at first sight moment. I could tell this story over and over again. Every time I reminisce my eyes well up. Sometimes I still can't believe I had a role in a fairy tale moment. Every time I tell it I relive it as though it has just happened, but at the same time I feel further away from it.
I was browsing our local, small town library for a good murder mystery; something I could sink my claws into. Unfortunately my library has a knack for not stocking the shelves very well much to my immense displeasure. Now that I think back that little known fact did help the following events. I forgave my sorry excuse for a library very quickly. I walked in; drenched from the sudden downpour that accompanies a poor, lonely soul, looking like a supermodel I'm sure. Why is it that I meet a wonderful, gorgeous guy when I am at the height of my tragic wreck-edness? Yes, I made up that word. Then, I glamorously had a sneezing fit from the musty clouds billowing every time I read the dust jacket. Oh the irony!
As I picked up a thick spined paper-back that almost dissolved in my hands, I saw a flash of white out of the corner of my now allergy ridden eye. I looked up and through the gaps of those poor, pitiful books I saw those lovely, amber eyes smiling at me. In an instant they left my gaze. In case you're wondering, I'm the type of girl who is starving for adventure. I live in a no circumstance small town that's excitement boils over for the berry festival after the end of the school year. I hate berries. Consequently, to ease my boring excuse of a life I write stories. Each new story is a new road leading out of this place. So, I entered into the search for those out of this world, beautiful amber eyes. I found my prize a couple rows down. They laughed and escaped me once again. Next to a crumbling edition of Romeo and Juliet, which I might argue to be the first edition, I cornered the eyes.
"Ha!" Now it was my turn to do the eluding. I ran around the corner without looking, and as you can guess, I had the pleasure of introducing myself lying on top of, "Amber Eyes". At first he doesn't speak as he helps me to my feet. He held onto me a little longer which is a great thing because I was dizzy. Whoa.
"What's your name?" He asks me.
"Genesis. By my few friends I'm known as, Genie."
"I like Genesis." Stubborn man!
"What's your name then?"
"Ollie." He smirks.
"Is that your full name?" Two can play this game.
He takes a deep breath and spouts, "Olivier Jacques Marquis Beaumont."
"I love Ollie!" I yell. He put back his head and laughed. It was amazing.
"So Genesis, I just want to let you know I'm walking you home in the rain. Then, I'm going to proceed to throw rocks at your window to serenade you or steal you away into the night for as long as time allows." I love a man that gets straight to the point. At least, that's what I discovered. I had no other interested men. How would I know what I wanted?
"As long as that plan includes a restroom break and a coffee run now and then I think that sounds perfectly reasonable." Oh, that grin, stop it boy!
"I knew you were the one."
That did it. That did me in. Those words, double what everyone's dream words are, meant more to me than a million, "I love you's".
He directed me to the door and then carried out his plan. It's been about a year now. He is a true gentleman. He can't help the erupting rage sometimes. That's why I'm waiting on him. After he hits me, though it's a rare occasion, he freaks out and runs away. Then he comes crawling back to me, most literally, after he stops punishing himself. Ollie's father abuses him, his brother, Edie, and their mom, Sylvie.
Ollie always tells me, "That's no excuse for my behavior." I agree to an extent, but it's difficult when you are surrounded in that type of environment. It's all he's ever known of a family. And he never leaves marks on me. It's strange, he's seems to stop himself when he notices what he's doing.
He finally calls me.
"I'm coming over. Get dolled up." That's it? He usually goes into this long winded apology and blubbers his brains out. Something's up. I am not sure whether to be worried or excited. Okay, both. I am also not sure what kind of 'dolled up' he means. Should I go all out? A little black dress, candy red lipstick, foot cramping heels, the works; Or just some dark jeans, splash water on my face, and a hasty appliance of deodorant?
I go with the former.
A/N: If you read this you rock my stockings! please review. please. criticism is highly regarded. I just want to know what you think. Keep reading for the conclusion!