by Celia Crown
All that would be true if we were strangers, but we are engaged.
“If I recall correctly,” Donna takes off her glasses and frowns, “Your agency is a billboard for no fraternizing.”
“I know,” I said while stroking Violet’s soft brown hair.
They don’t have to tell me the obvious because I have gone through it and it costed me everything, but I’m here to work my way back into her trust and her delicate, little golden heart.
“If I recall correctly,” Thomas’s tone drops to a menacing hiss, “You are involved with that other model, Emily something.”
It takes me a while to remember who he’s talking about. The woman that everyone remembers being my ‘lover’ is not my anything; her agency and mine decided that a little publicity wouldn’t hurt so they set up a day where there are a lot more paparazzi around to snap a couple of pictures with us walking out of the same hotel about the same time.
To add fuel to the shocking scenario, she had my scarf as proof that we spent the night together.
I never touched her, not even a handshake or a hug for the paparazzi to get excited about. Frankly, I didn’t know the woman’s name or anything about her.
I simply showed up at the hotel when my manager had called, and when he explained the whole ordeal, I only walked out and away from the woman whose face is a blank one in my memories.
She’s what everyone calls Aiden Hart’s ‘mysterious girlfriend.’
The only mystery in my life is Violet, and she’s my fiancée.
That’s another headache that I have to explain to my sweetheart as I know she had seen the news; it was posted in every social media outlet.
She’ll understand that I didn’t do anything; I didn’t even glance at the woman.
“I frown upon philandering,” Thomas’ lips curl.
“I only belong to Violet,” I said.
Chapter Five
Violet
When I scan the piece of paper in my hand, the schedule for the day is printed out for everyone who wanted a physical copy or else the rest of the photoshoot trip would be posted in an email. I see the destinations listed right next to the timeslots.
Everyone is heading now to a secluded area Donna had reserved; it’s about a twenty-minute drive and another twenty minutes of going through terrains to find the hidden gem that only the locals know about.
This style of pictures is an Amazon warrior theme, just men in the wild doing their primitive things. That sounds unpleasant, but I think it would bring out the strong masculinity in them. I know many people in the world would love to see pictures of gorgeous men showing off their body.
I know I don’t mind seeing the models shirtless, especially Aiden.
Okay, I shake my head. No, I do not want to see him shirtless. It’s a mantra that I keep repeating to myself; he has already affected me so much.
It was embarrassing to wake up and notice the wet spot on his thigh from my drool, but it’s another thing that I would voluntarily seek his arms when I’m sleeping. I need to do the military training, so my body can actually stay still and listen to me for once, so I don’t face all these humiliating moments with him.
“Oh, thank you, dear boy!”
I look up from the paper when I hear Thomas exclaim; he has one hand around the same man who I thought resembled a golden retriever. I watch as Thomas gets carried down one ginormous rock that looked like a miniature cliff.
Other models jumped, and the muscles of their legs support the short jump while I debate whether I should just ask someone for help since I’ll most likely sprain my ankle.
It’s hard for me to ask for help because I’m not that social and I don’t like asking for help. The words just won’t come out. But I shouldn’t try to find out how far I can push my body when it’s not meant for outdoors.
I applaud those photographers who take on nature with bravery and courage, but I can’t deal with potentially-poisonous snakes and venomous spiders. I know they are creeping up behind me and is just waiting for the opportunity to strike my tender toes.
“Violet,” Aiden’s growling voice sends shivers down my spine, “Don’t jump.”
I laugh nervously, crouching slightly to peer down on the height. “I wasn’t thinking about jumping.”
“I’ll catch you.”
His eyes hold the promise that he wouldn’t let me get hurt. His massive arms extend upwards to me, and I don’t hesitate to tip my body down. Gravity yanks me down, and I close my eyes for the impact of whether he caught me or if he’s going to let my face get dirty.
I’ll get a rock banged on my forehead too.
That doesn’t happen. He catches me with an arm around my back, and the other holds my waist. My feet dangle in the air as I let out a shuddering breath. It’s a short height, but I felt the sudden rise of my guts as if I was in a rollercoaster ride.
I free my face from his neck very reluctantly because he smells good and I miss the way he holds me, but there are people watching me, so I start to pull away.
Aiden has a different thought. The hand on my waist reaches down to plop my butt on his forearm, and he turns around to continue the route with me in his arm. I get a clear view of the other models jumping down from the rock; they don’t give another look to us as they seem to be uninterested in why Aiden has to carry me.
As shameful as it is for me to say, I got distracted by the men’s physiques. They are all big in size, with beautifully flawless skin and sharp features. I wonder where Donna found these guys; there might be a model database where she could put in the requirements that she’s looking for and all the potential candidates pop up with all their information.
“Don’t fucking look at them,” Aiden snaps, gripping one side of my butt in a painful hold.
He shouldn’t even be holding me, “Put me down! Others are watching.”
“Let them watch as I hold what’s mine,” he hisses as he shoves his hand that’s on my back into my spine to force me to flop down on his chest.
“It’s too dangerous for you to walk.”
I look down from his massive shoulder. The grass is higher than his knees, and it would be near my upper thighs if I were to walk. This doesn’t mean that it’s dangerous, I’m sure it’s safe to walk in the grass since the guide is snapping branches and moving with such confidence that nothing can hurt him in his path.
Then I hear a snap, and I turn as far as Aiden would let me. The guide has a metal stick that lifted an animal trap with death teeth clamping down on the end of the stick.
“There are wild animals around here and hunters put up traps to protect the locals. The animals aren’t dangerous if you leave them alone.” Aiden bounce me further up his body and my arms loop around his thick neck.
Everything about him is thick, and he’s massive everywhere. I’m climbing a mountain, and I’m scared to fall. I feel safe in his arms. my heart calms and beats gradually over the humming of my blood through my ears.
“How do you know all of that?” I murmur, casting my eyes over one of the model’s Henley shirt. It’s stretched so much that I hope the stitching can stay together until we get to the location, then they can all stripe down to just a pair of pants.
Shirtless is the theme that Thomas wants; he’s quite the fan boy when it comes to these men. His taste and preference come through when we have models who do not fit in stereotypical molds of high-class clothing.
He likes uniqueness; Thomas believes that stick thin walkway models have their charm, but he’s looking for that rawness in men that ‘elf men’ don’t have from the first glance.
Thomas is an artist. I am too, but I don’t really see what he sees when he designs his clothes in unique ways. He also doesn’t see the things I see when I look into the camera because things come to me through experience and what I perceive as the best.
The pictures I take are the ones that feel right.
I have learned to trust my guts. I don’t need to satisfy everyone. I just ne
ed to believe in myself, believe in the beauty that the camera brings out.
“Didn’t I tell you not to look at them?”
My shoulders jump, and I jerk my gaze from the man that I have been staring at; he waves, and I give a shaky smile back to him before I sneak a glance to the side.
Aiden’s brown eyes have a flicker of obsessive heat that scorches my heart. My breath gets caught in my throat, and I quickly turn away. He saw me staring at the man, and I know how possessive Aiden is.
His controlling nature and the fierce protectiveness aren’t suffocating. Many people who don’t know Aiden and I personally would think that it’s an unhealthy relationship. I may be a functioning adult in the eyes of the law, but I’m still growing in terms of taking care of myself while living up to the expectations of being able to support myself.
Aiden wants to take care of me; he made that abundantly clear when we were still together. He dictates what I eat and when I eat because of my peach allergy, strawberry milk addiction, and the unstable eating schedule that I have since I got into photography.
He dictates where I go, and he has to accompany me because I have no sense of direction. I wander to a different place without meaning to, and when I see something that captures my attention, I’m utterly vulnerable to an easy kidnapping.
Aiden picks my clothes for the same reasons; I’m always distracted. One I walked outside during a snowy day with no shoes on. My socks were frozen, and my skin was colder than an icicle, but I was amazed that I hadn’t gotten hypothermia or frostbites.
I did get the flu back then. I was bed-ridden and force-fed gross grape-flavored medicine. Why companies still make those nasty cough medicines is a question that I will never get the answer to.
Maybe I would have liked it if it was strawberry flavored, but I highly doubt that.
“Please let me down,” I whisper with a higher pitch as I pat his back as the best I could without letting go.
Aiden is tall; he’s such a monstrosity of a body that when I look down from over his shoulder, everything is significantly taller. The ground sways with each step, and I try not to tremble too much after seeing a bear claw earlier. I hope no one steps into one.
That would be a mess that I can’t stomach.
“Stay still,” Aiden grunts, and I am well aware of his big hand holding my butt. “We’re almost there. You move one more time, and I will spank you in front of all these people.”
Again, how can he know these things? Also, I choose to ignore that part with a face redder than Japan’s flag.
The plain answer is that he’s been here before for other photo shoots, but nothing about Aiden Hart is simple.
I must have voiced out my thoughts when he answers, “I studied the area when we were on the plane.”
My cheeks burn at the memories of me literally waking up to his very big bulge that I had nuzzled into. I was so mortified that I had shed tears when I bolted up from his lap. I hadn’t been getting much sleep because work had been hectic, and everything just crumbled at that moment.
Aiden didn’t know the cause of my tears, but he apologized for doing things on his own without my permission. He didn’t want me to wake up with a sore neck and an aching back, so he put my head on his lap because he knew that I would eventually awake with complaints out of my mouth.
I wasn’t mad at him. I was upset at myself for being weak when I promised that I would interact with him the same way that I would with other people.
It’s just our history, and my love for him goes beyond my ability to lock those overflowing emotions away. I can’t do it, not when he’s here and reverting back to old habits of taking care of me.
He can’t just come back into my life and expect nothing is wrong. I went through two years of heartbreak, and it’s still heartbreaking that I can never have him.
It hurts more when I know he’s going to leave again; this contract only has two and a half weeks left, and one more photoshoot left. When all is done, we will go our separate ways. He would go back to his high-class fashion career while being surrounded by beautiful people and his gorgeous girlfriend, and I would go back to my own place with the pieces of my heart scattered on my palms for the second time.
Okay, I’m going down the road of spiraling misery. It’s time to stop thinking about it; I’m never going to finish my new year resolution of being a better person.
Independence is the new game in the town, that’s exactly what was said from a podcast that I listened to last year.
It was also when I decided that podcasts aren’t my thing. I tune them out too much as my attention comes from visualization. Words fly over my head and don’t even get me started on touch. I could have a bird pecking the back of my head, and I wouldn’t feel it.
I’m trying to change my lifestyle and become a new person with better senses.
It’s not going well.
My womanly intuition is performing a rave with Aiden being so close. It could be in the middle of a rap battle or a crescendo of Beethoven’s piece for all I know; it’s just running on wildly-supercharged emotions.
As we walk through the trees, Aiden lowers me to the ground, and I look around in confusion. It’s a playground for people who love nature.
Starting from the massive waterfall pouring down to the eventual slow current, the waterfall isn’t too strong that it causes disruption to the surrounding areas. Then, the spherical bubbles held up by strong trees have comfortable white covers and fluffed pillows.
There is a small hook that can pull the opening close in case of rain, and my heart sings for me to dive into the sphere. I would love to get a night of sleep in there. Though, I’m too scared to be sleeping here by myself even with the whole team camping in the other spheres.
I have never been able to sleep by myself. I need a body pillow to cling onto. People who have their bed right in the middle of the room with no walls on either side creep me out. I don’t feel safe with my back in the open area.
It’s too dicey with the boogie man having direct access to my back, but I heard they like to go for the ankles. Thank goodness, I have that covered with the blanket and more covers than I can fit onto my bed.
If I got too hot, I would just crank up the air conditioning just a bit. No amount of air conditioning bill is worth my body being dragged under the bed. I make a good living from being a photographer, so I can spare a little more money on that department, but if I was not, then I would just have to sweat in the blankets and shower in the morning.
Nonetheless, this place is gorgeous.
I look forward to taking a nap in that bubble. I have the daily timetable memorized, and I know that the photoshoot finishes at around midafternoon; that leaves the rest of the day free to roam.
“Alright, gentlemen,” Donna claps her hand to get our attention even though she’s addressing the models.
“You know the drill; Thomas will be your clothing stylist, and I will be your hairstylist!” She smiles widely, “Violet is your photographer, so be nice to her.”
A bird chirps behind me, and I resist the urge to turn around.
“Once you’re done, the rest of the day is yours!”
The man who reminds me of golden retriever cheers and others begin to murmur amongst themselves.
I scan the area for my camera equipment. A man offered to carry it for me, and I couldn’t be more thankful for his offering. I hadn’t thought about ways of getting my equipment to the location since I didn’t know it was this tough to get here.
No wonder no one really knows this spot; people aren’t willing to put in the work to find this place.
Aiden’s hand drops to the dip of my back to steer me towards a safer path than the stones by the waterfall. The black case lays on the grassy patches, and I thank the man who carried this big baggage.
He didn’t even sweat, and his hair is immaculate.
Men and their supernatural strength.
I become busy with the assembly of the camera, ma
king sure the right parts are in their respective places, examine the lens for any flaws that could damage the final product, and the checking the memory card is empty to store a full set.
I always reserve room for pictures that I might suddenly find great interest in; work comes first, but sometimes things happen.
I could feel my skin buzzing with excitement. My fingers itch to press down on the button and lock the eternal beauty of this forest into my space.
Turning around, I fully expect Aiden to be hovering over me. He is behind me, but he’s also got a bottle of opened strawberry milk in his hand. He’s drinking it and tempting me with the faint fruity scent; I stifle down a whine.
He asks, “What?”
He knows what I want, and he’s a bully about it. I have pride. I won’t ask him to give it to me; this Violet can say no to Aiden. I can hold my chin up and be a big girl, but deep down, I’m weeping over the delicious milk.
He’s going to make me ask him.
Pride can open the window and toss itself out because my mouth is opening, my voice croaking the most dreadful squeaks.
“C-can I have one?”
He hums while thinking about it, and I want to chuck my camera at his stupidly handsome face. My lips could taste the air; it’s the same brand that I always get, and they are hard to come by. It’s a foreign company, and the majority of the milk products they produce is regular or chocolate.
One fancy Christmas week I had vanilla bean milk; it smells good, but the taste was okay.
“This is the only one,” he teases faintly, and I gasp so dramatically that I got embarrassed myself.
“Do you want it?”
I nod hastily, “Please, Mr. Hart.”
Of course, I want it. I drink that religiously; my blood is practically strawberry milk at this point. Aiden knows I love it, and he’s using my weakness against me, but I will do anything he says if I can just have the bottle in my hand.
Leaping through fire doesn’t sound too bad.
“It’s Aiden to you, always Aiden. Don’t ever forget that.”