🎶. Vivaldi Variation (Florian Christl)

The concept of love was once preposterous to Siya. An idyllic setup, pleasing to eyes, but measly artificial. Every time she heard someone say the word, in appeared a thin replica of lust, based on conquest and desire. She had watched some beautiful couples, one of them being her own parents, yet love never made it deep inside her subconscious, for her unsettling mind, it was alien. There was no eagerness in her to ever learn the meaning, experience the feeling, the word simply existed with a wordy definition, scribbled across people's secret diaries and sometimes in lustful sighs. She was far more pessimistic when it comes to this certain feeling, always ready to argue, so for it to become more than just a word, for her, towards him, was rather confusing than anything else. To experience it in a feeling, would you rather live it as it comes, or run away? When it comes to emotions and mind games, she had always been a weak player. It wouldn't take long for the fear of failure to settle in her bleak thoughts. That's how her emotions work, in a sharp, mechanical cycle, retracing a regular arc, where anxiety, detachment, suffocation, anger are the normal and not comfort, warmth, care, or love. In the last eight years, she had rarely let herself feel anything apart from the arc, beyond it existed emotions for normal humans, and she was different, weirdly different, untouched yet tainted, battled but scarred, safe yet trapped.

Then how did her emotions evolve, changing the orbit and embarking on a completely different arc? How did she not realise?

The way it happened, like spring breaking through the cold winter, ever so gracefully, so secretly, with gentle breezes to touch and blooming buds to see.

It was effortless, just like him.

"Siya?"

She smiled at her reflection hearing him call her name impatiently. The man otherwise has the patience of a mountain, but when it comes to her, he couldn't wait a second more than the requested time.

She was wearing green tonight. The deep v neck accentuated her full bosom, narrowing on her waist with a metal belt wrapped around, velvet falling gracefully down her legs, the hem kissing the floor, the high slit revealing her toned leg whenever she moved. The full sleeves hid her arms and she was grateful, it was slightly cold outside. Lifting the two-layered diamond chain, she hooked it on her nape. The heavy emerald ring glistened on her slender fingers while she applied the matte lipstick.

"Siya, I'm waiting,"

She chuckled, rubbing at the corner of her lips with her third finger, getting rid of the excess lipstick.

"Two minutes," she yelled back.

"You said that two minutes ago!" He groaned.

"Only two minutes, I promise." She assured.

The man couldn't hold his impatience for more than a few seconds. The door opened, jerking her straight and she shot him a glare.

"You were taking too long." He shrugged, leaning against the door jamb, finely dressed in the custom-made dark green suit.

"What if I was naked?"

"Well you're not," his eyes ran down her body. "I should have come fifteen minutes earlier. Maybe then your question was valid." He added nonchalantly.

"You're impossible," she shook her head, focusing back on her reflection.

He chuckled. "Not for you."

Their eyes met in the mirror. Her hands suddenly slowed, eyelids felt light, the natural blush beat the artificial one. And a smirk climbed on his lip, the usual amusement flashing through his eyes. He winked, and a force of warm, fuzzy feeling appeared within, it made her realise she was irrevocably twitterpated with this man.

"Let's not go to this party. It sounds boring."

She smiled. "Never thought you would be into bunking, Professor."

He noticed the lingering playfulness in her tone. "Sometimes it's okay to skip the unneeded lessons to focus on the right ones."

She understood what his words insinuated. "You're all barks, professor."

"Ouch," he placed a hand over his supposedly injured heart. "You wound me, Siya. I never thought you would think of me as a man with empty words."

She let go of the chuckle building up. "Is that my fault?" Her left brow raised, mouth parting slightly, busy applying the mascara.

"Not mine either." He shook his head immediately.

"You were the one ditching me for the beach," she said, not adding the piece of information that she was fast asleep until eight, wanting him to feel guilty.

"You're to speak? Ian told me you were asleep. I called sharp at seven to know where you are." He jeered cockily.

Her mouth formed a sheepish O. With a cheeky smile at him, she winked. "The score is even then,"

She went back to complete her makeup, searching through her pouch for a highlighter brush. Clicking open the highlighter, she dipped the brush gently and leaned in slightly towards the mirror, eyes on her cleavage. "Oh, shit,"

"What happened?" He asked curiously.

"Sweetheart, I need your help," she mumbled distractedly.

He walked inside and stopped beside her. "With what? I hope not the makeup." He smiled, mirth swimming in his grey eyes.

"No," she chuckled. "Get me a new tissue,"

He plucked out an unused tissue and held it out towards her. His brows came together in a furrow when she turned and shook her head slowly, flicking the locks off her shoulders and moving closer to him. "Hook it on my chest," she instructed.

"You mean, here," he pointed at the deep v neck of the dress.

She nodded.

"Okay," the word managed to escape in a whisper. He unfolded the napkin and held the two corners of the square in front of her chest. She watched in amusement as he brought the disposable paper close, inhaled a deep breath, fingers twitching, brows pinching in concentration. "Like this," he whispered to himself and lowered the corners, gently tucking them inside the dress. The pad of his fingers pressed and grazed on the exposed skin of her breasts. She tried hard not to focus on the dirty imagines crossing through her mind.

Remembering the dream did her no good.

"Rehan?"

"Huh?" He looked up, dazed and lost.

She felt a fond smile coming over her lips. "You're going to be the death of me,"

His brows furrowed deeper.

She smashed her lips against his.

The action wild, their bodies frenzy, desperate and uncontrollable against each other. He spun her around, shoved the make-up collection aside, and pushed her up. Her fingers weaved through his locks, longing to hold something in her fist. His arm went around her waist, the other rested on the exposed leg, palm expanding, fingers gripping the skin, always so impatient and possessive. Their mouths skimmed and brushed, gently at first, almost obsessively later. She felt a rush of electricity zapping through her body like no other, his coldness danced on her body in the form of goosebumps, smoky sighs falling down their mouths, a labyrinth of mist fogging the mirror behind, braced by his hand, clawing at it as their lips battled for pleasure, tongues entwining, two breathes connecting into one, desperate to be stolen. She separated herself from him with a lewd mellow sound, her head falling back, neck arching, exposing more of herself to his unforbearing lips, and they descended quickly, her neck his canvas, his kisses wet brushes, twirling over her skin, drawing sighs out of her mouth, discovering sweet spots and rejuvenating untouched ones, coloring her red, a painting of eros etched across her skin, with desire and passion, touching the forbidden until he no longer can.

"Fuck," he rested his forehead on her shoulder, gasps of breath slipping past his mouth.

She forced her eyes open, needing something to clench, whatever she felt, was overwhelming.

She cupped his face and raised his head, touching his lips with hers and smiling widely against them. He kissed her slowly, teasingly, no longer driven by the haze of lust, his hands placing themselves over her waist again.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered when he pulled away.

"Am I?" His sparkling grey eyes darkened like a stormy sky.

"Details," she murmured. "I want to tell you how beautiful you are in details," she breathed against his lips. "Unfortunately, I, my sweetheart, am not good at words."

"I don't want to hear the details, make me feel them." His voice tickled her ears, ladened with thick desire.

Her hands on his shoulder hesitated, traveling down slowly and closing up over his perfectly made tie.

He looked calm but judging from his breathing, he was anything but.

"Boss! We're running late!" Ian knocked rapidly on the locked door of her bedroom.

The two separated with a jolt, as if any physical force had pushed them away. He stumbled back, past the mess of tissues and close to the wall behind.

She sighed loudly.

"The party," he mumbled.

"I almost forgot." She whispered.

He lifted his gaze, wincing at the smudged red lipstick and dark red bites scattered all over her neck and cleavage.

"What happened?" She hopped down and turned, hand flying to mouth in shock. "Rehan, what the hell?" Her fingers ran over the bruises as if they were feathers.

He bit his lower lip guiltily. "Sorry. I was kind of- kind of out of control." He admitted.

"No debate there, gorgeous," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Go out and wait for me in the living room, I need to fix my hair and makeup again."

He nodded and left immediately, spouting a series of swear words under his breath that were too incoherent for her to comprehend.

Siya focused on fixing her look.

An hour later, the two piled inside the luxurious black BMW. Ethan started the car and the engine purred to life. The four-wheeler began to move, driving out of the hotel premises and into the busy roads. Siya stared outside the window, at the passing buildings, streetlights, local bars and bistros, bystanders, every scenery a blurred picturesque, lasting for a second and reforming itself in a new image.

The party venue was a seven stars hotel. Unsurprisingly.

"Don't," he said when she turned to step out from her side. "Let me," he mumbled and she nodded, keeping to herself with her hands interlaced on lap. He stepped out and rounded the car, coming to her side and opening the door for her. He held out his hand, a polite gesture yet it melted her heart once again. Placing her comparatively smaller hand in his much larger one, she exited the car, flashlights greeting her first.

"Mr. Morelli," Ian jutted his chin, catching Siya's attention and she followed the line of his sight.

A small smile appeared on her face when she saw the man of the party personally coming to attend to her.

"I'm glad you made it on time," he grinned. "Let's go inside first," he motioned out, ushering his guards to keep the journalists at bay.

With Rehan's hand holding hers, the two walked down the red carpet, entering the hotel and following Damien to the party hall.

No wonder Morellis are counted as one of the fewer richest Italians who are known for their standard of life and showy personalities. The hall was huge and if it was empty, she was sure it would have looked even larger. The theme of gold and silver never looked so good, crystal droopings hanging from the small chandeliers, and in the center was a larger, more expensive, and intricately designed glass chandelier. The ambience was royal, people appeared formal and respectful, a fan of few but meaningful words, just how she likes.

"And Jared used to boast about his parties," Ian's face was a literal definition of wow.

"This is beautiful," she complimented.

"Thank God you liked the arrangements," Damien smiled in relief. "I've heard it is hard to impress you." He added cheekily.

She rolled her eyes, her free hand rising to cup Rehan's bicep.

He squeezed her interlaced hand in response, following her gaze as it ran around the hall.

Damien noticed the exchange and nodded to himself.

"Where is Roman? And Lucy?" She asked, remembering the remaining two in their newly made group, which may or may not last after this party.

"Lucy," he trailed, looking around. "I saw her with my sister just a few minutes ago, must be here somewhere. I'll ask someone to look for her later." He shot her a quick smile. "And Mr. Huxley is yet to arrive," he added.

She nodded.

"Uhm, my mum's side extended family has arrived, so I'll see you later. Please enjoy the party." He said and excused himself after receiving a smile in response.

"How is it?" She looked up at Rehan.

He gazed down at her. "Nice." A quick, not so well thought compliment. "I would have preferred my bedroom though." He added in a whisper, this time willing to go descriptive.

"Ever get tired of flirting?"

"With you? No." He smiled widely.

She felt the warm fuzzy feeling reappearing inside her stomach.

"Look who we have here," a familiar voice purred. "Again,"

Rehan stiffened.

Siya noticed the change, distracted quickly by her attention landing on the woman who stopped in front of them.

The woman's dark eyes flickered towards Rehan, raking down slowly, taking him in.

"Do I know you?" Siya asked, an edge to her already cold voice.

The lady in red smiled, moving her catlike eyes towards Siya. "No, you don't. But I do."

"Everyone does. Nothing new." Siya shrugged.

The woman chuckled. "Beau Abate, my name." She held out her hand.

Siya pushed it aside with her wand. "Not a fan of handshakes."

Beau lowered her hand. "I see," she nodded, her eyes looking back up at Rehan. "What a gorgeous man you've by your side," she complimented. "Must say, you're lucky." She checked him out again, openly.

Rehan clenched his jaw.

"My boyfriend." Siya forced a sickeningly sweet smile on her face, her grip tightening on his bicep. "So I suggest you keep your eyes to yourself because the luck isn't coming to you anytime soon."

"Possessive," Beau chuckled. "Or insecure?"

Siya's smile dropped and her eyes hardened. "What was your name again?"

Her smile widened, a hint of amusement crossing her dark eyes. "Beau Abate."

"Beau," Siya looked up and down at the woman. "What a beautiful body you have. Why don't you try your chance on available men, instead of committed ones? Don't humiliate your outer beauty by having ugly insides. Now scram."

"You got a fiesty one, V," she winked at Rehan and sashayed away.

"V?" Siya frowned. "Why did she call you V?"

"How would I know?" He shot back, glancing at Matthew for a moment.

"What a weird woman, and a stupid one." She sighed, shaking her head.

The event proceeded and Siya began to sense Rehan's unwillingness to stay at the party. He looked anxious, glancing around, a permanent frown etched over his face, his hands clammy, glistening with sweat. She offered him a glass of juice, told him to eat something, asked if he needed to rest. His every answer was monotonous and short, not giving out the reason behind his sudden change in mood.

"Let's go dance," she said, catching his attention.

"No, I don't want to." He scrunched his nose, shaking his head softly.

"Okay," she whispered in defeat and went back to the conversation happening around her. In the midst of the crowd, she suddenly spotted Roman and a smile bloomed on her face. "Roman,"

Rehan's head snapped up.

"Let's go meet him, I'm bored here." She said discreetly.

"You know what, let's go dance," he grabbed her hand and took her to the dance floor.

She gasped when he yanked her closer, his left arm draping around her waist, the other enclosing around her hand. She watched wide-eyed as he guided them across the floor, matching the beat, waltzing through the crowd, their steps synchronised, bodies so close even air wouldn't try to pass. Her eyes stayed on him, unblinkingly, witnessing the mirage of emotions floating on the surface of his usual frosty grey swirls. He wasn't even looking at her, his gaze strayed further, at the crowd, around the hall, each time halting for a short second, his features hardening along, lips pressed together, his body although agile, flowing with the music, she could feel the anguish of his soul, as if he could be anywhere but here.

"Rehan,"

He looked down at her in a split second.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

He sighed. "Can we go back? I don't like it here."

"Why?" She asked, glancing around as well, trying to find anything that would hint her about his worsening mood.

"I'm feeling suffocated. I don't like the smell here."

She sniffed the air, realising the room freshener is pleasant but dark.

"But it's only been two hours," she mumbled. "This party is a joint celebration about his achievement and our-"

"Siya, please." He breathed out. "Fine. Stay here. I'm leaving first." He said and tried to pull away.

"No, don't," she hugged him close, not willing to part ways, their bodies still swaying to the music. "Okay, let's go. Let's go back." She whispered defeatedly.

Convincing Damien was harder than she had thought. Even Roman and Lucy tried to stop her, reasoning one of them had just arrived and they deserve to have a drink together. Everyone will be separating ways tomorrow anyway.

"C'mon, Siya, he can go ahead. It's not necessary for you to leave." Lucy said urgently.

Rehan clenched his jaw.

"Yeah, don't go. I've just arrived." Roman added with a soft smile.

"I would have love to," Siya said regretfully. "I swear, I'm not lying. But I've to go. He is not feeling well."

"He is not a kid. He can take care of himself." Damien tipped his glass towards Rehan.

Siya blinked awkwardly. She was trying to be polite and they were testing her limits.

"Mr. Morelli-"

"You don't have to ruin your evening for me," Rehan spoke up, catching her attention. "I'll be fine on my own."

"No," she rejected firmly. "I've to go guys. Have a great night ahead. Bye." She said and left along with her guards and Rehan without waiting for them to try harder.

"You didn't have to," Rehan said when they were back inside the car.

"I wanted to," she answered.

He fell silent and stared out of the window. When