It couldn't be his worst day because if he said it out loud, the forces of the cosmos would mock him and strive to be even worse... And he wasn't in the mood for it.
Coincidentally, the moment he came out incredibly, stupendously, and irresistibly dressed -even more so, for not deigning to drive when he knew he would be driven home- the night was falling apart, precisely because at that moment it had decided to start raining.
To a certain extent it was implausible, for in his not very long life he had never been so unlucky as he was that day
Her adorable - and sometimes evil and infernal - cat, the lovely and adorable: Amore, had dedicated his morning to destroy her most precious coffee cup - with liquid - on the NEW Persian carpet, she had just bought. The mending of his beautiful Valentino trench coat had been long overdue, but even he admitted that the designer had gone too far overboard with the length. His hair wasn't exactly the cut he had planned and his assistant was out of town, so to his great regret, he had to leave the office for half a day...
Now, as if all that wasn't enough, on the way to the party she was looking forward to that weekend, she could notice how it would begin to be overshadowed by the imminent rain that was now falling, although it was certainly threatening to be a storm. Still, the party was not outdoors, but... As perfect an idiot as he now looked, he CLEARLY wasn't carrying an umbrella. Who the hell would carry an umbrella in New York when it was sunny in the morning?
"All I get for being devilishly handsome." Yes. He was the king of his own drama.
It cost him nothing to call someone to come by for him, but, the priority was to shelter that expensive trench coat and his delicate self from the rain. He ran as far as he could and hid under what looked like a wide, large, safe, and mostly DRY porch entrance to a garden. He shook off the few drops that had dared to touch his self-centered existence, to finally turn his eyes around and see where the shortest way home would be.
Yes, he no longer wanted to get to the party.
To his surprise, as he was cursing everything that could be cursed, his gaze fell on the garden behind him. Amazingly, even though it was late winter season, it was filled with huge hydrangeas and roses forming beautiful colorful bushes: white, green, mauve, purple, and pink.
There was a beautiful fountain and what looked like one of those little lounges that rich people with nothing to do would have just to enjoy an afternoon -which clearly wasn't today-. It was a rich man's house far from his new beloved Brooklyn, but he had no doubt of the decorator's exquisite and rustic taste.
But out of all those bushes, he could see closer to him some rose bushes threatening to open as soon as the cold was gone. From his own experience with those flowers at home, he knew they would be huge... For a change they were of white the few buds that tried to bloom among the snow, but, his eyes were automatically redirected to a fortunately nearby, blue-colored rose in the middle of it all.
And well... Laurent the unreachable, untamed Ricci LOVED the color blue.
He felt cold and even the anger of the whole day now seemed to have disappeared just by admiring that common, yet amazing flower. He felt like a fool, but, even though he knew it would be 99.99% likely that someone would call the police or the owners would accuse him of being a thief, he set out to try to get his athletic, sensually worked, and tanned body through the bars, all to reach the flower.
Fucking bars...
They felt horrendously cold and his organza shirt-because it was more than obvious he wasn't going to ruin his trench coat-didn't do much to lessen the feeling of coolness. He was really trying to get more than half a body between the railing, but it seemed to laugh at him.
"Can you tell, more or less what you're trying to do?"
Great. The time when he should give an account of what he was doing had arrived...
. . .
It couldn't be his worst day...
No... Of course, it could be the worst day in her short twenty years of life! She had gone out with the best guy in the world: Dominic Seidel. The same Dominic who was her father's protégé and with whom she had lived most of her childhood and youth. But as expected, he had one flaw: HE WAS NOT IN LOVE WITH HER.
Even with that, he always thought he might have a chance. Which was cut short when Dominic arrived that day to invite her to lunch and, thinking of his best chances, and the very idiot had invited his now stupid new BRIDE with them -he didn't know her and already hated her-. He didn't hide that feeling of annoyance, but it was impossible for him not to squeal at the redhead from the moment his Dominic had stopped dating to spend all his time admiring the art of that girl with the huge, awkward green eyes.
She decided to simply leave them and retreat to her exile at home-somewhat dramatically, but she could blame her hormones-so she decided to take the shortcut to the back entrance of the huge house and avoid the immense questioning of her siblings or her parents.
She hated the cold and the stupid feeling that it could snow or rain at any moment, so she kept her keys handy and it made her mood worse...
And by the Lord's doing, it started to rain. It was always good to carry an umbrella -he always fought with Dominic that umbrellas are only for the rain and not for the water- and without further ado, he continued walking through the now wet streets of the city, where there were no longer a lot of people and he could walk without any problem.
It was about eight o'clock when he began to pick up the pace home, as the cold he was beginning to feel in his nose and knees was becoming more than annoying. Going around the whole block to get to the front of the house seemed to her to be a sovereign stupidity -again- but shortly before crossing the street leading to her garden, she stood still.
Nearby she could clearly see someone trying to get in, but... If she paid attention, he wasn't trying to force his way in or anything similar. He seemed to want to take something. She moved a little closer, however, without crossing yet. And noticed a very extravagant taste in clothing that he was impressed didn't seem to suffer from the weather.
The upper part of that "thief's" clothing seemed more like a second skin, somewhat translucent being a very fine fabric of those that his sister also loved to buy to wear to match her brother. He wore incredibly tight dress pants in burnt red, with shoes that shone brighter than her dreams, and in his arms, he seemed to be carrying a coat or trench coat -I wouldn't talk about it looking like a curtain was actually-. His hair was of a dark shade, but being on his side, I could observe among the somewhat wet locks that the color was auburn among those curls.
Well: if he was a thief, he was one who cared about his appearance and perhaps a little too much.
She could stare at the guy for a while longer, but she herself knew it wasn't normal to see someone like that at the back gate of the house. She opted in the end to cross the street and as the oldest of the siblings, and decided to finally speak to him.
"May I ask, more or less what the hell are you trying to do?". Her voice came out slightly deeper than normal, but she found herself tense and nervous. The boy in question smelled delicious between the sandalwood and jasmine and seeing that seemingly well-worked back didn't help much.
She couldn't imagine what could lead a handsome man with soft auburn curls and amber eyes to get stuck in the middle of her back fence... But the stranger then turned: curly hair spun, revealing a very attractive man with cinnamon skin and extravagantly amber eyes framed with curly, bushy eyelashes. His features were more European than she would expect, but those freckles made the young woman who had stopped her breathing after asking that question doubt where he was from.
On his side, the other could see a pair of violet eyes cross his gaze, unable to differentiate if what he felt was just cold or that time had stopped. He had very nice light brown hair, that look so stunning that he didn't think that eyes with Alexandria syndrome if they existed. She wore clothes that maybe weren't so befitting a lady of the house, but that huge knitted sweater in light blue and black jeans that seemed to have seen better times were just a potential to highlight the natural beauty of that girl.
And before anyone could say anything else...
The rain started to fall.
