Now
I still refuse to believe that this photographer is doing this to me. Sitting on Vincent is a new adventure I never wanted to experience is this kind of setting. I feel the muscles of his leg twitching as I sit positioned staring at him, just like the photographer had instructed. Why is it so hot here? Why am I sweating? This close proximity doesn’t do us anything good. His jaw is clenched and the hand on my waist is structured and hard, without any emotions or feelings. He does this a lot. I have seen so many billboards with his face and a girl next to him, yet not in this position.
Vincent seems utterly untethered like this is what he wants, what he feels. No, these delusional thoughts always make there way into my head. Of course I am attracted to him, who wouldn’t? But we barely talk and the built up tension from me leaving a decade ago still hangs in the air, it is uncomfortable and a rough feeling. I will have to tell him everything eventually but it is too awkward and it won’t change anything, it wouldn’t do us any good walking down memory lane. As I continue staring at this man, I notice a scar. A scar that has always been there. A scar that I’ve touched and even kissed. I notice the freshly shaved chin and the rough skin of his lips. How many times had I kissed those again? I will have to kiss them soon again, in three days to be precise, then the first kiss scene takes place.
“Perfect! Could you put both hands around her?” The man says at Vincent. His warm hand traces my skin to settle on my lower stomach. This is doing wrong things to me. Why does it feel like I can’t breathe? This man is doing something to my head just like always.
“Not quite, more,” The man snaps with his fingers trying to find the word “More, ah, possessive.” What? Excuse me, sir. Please take your words back. I have no need to do this.
I hear a strange sound coming from behind me, a male growl from the throat. That sound did something to me as usual.
Vincent's’ hand reached slightly higher, his hand was rougher and suddenly stronger. Suddenly he pushed my side and I fell because of his touch gripping onto his chest. What did this man just do? Is this the possessive take he had to do?
“Perfect! Pandora look up at him.” Is this perfect? Really? I turn my head to face upwards, this man is staring at the camera. Looking up at him, while practically cuddling is a thing I never thought I would ever do. Not after what I did.
“I think I got that one. Let’s move on.“ I try to stand up ass quickly as possible without falling and walk towards the next location. In the corner of my eye I see Vincent standing up flexing his shoulder blades and fixing his suit before following after me.
The next location is a pool. Which means changing clothing again, except now I will be half naked. And he as well. I start thinking about some unappropriated stuff. Does he have abs? Of course, but how big? Tattoos? He never really liked them, but who knows? What color swim trucks will he have?
Dear Pandora, you are definitely fucked.
Around a half hour later I am standing in front of a mirror. Looking at myself, a person who is wearing a black bikini, with straps that are tied around my stomach making me look like an absolute prostitute, but what I do for money.
“It is time to go.”
Walking to the scene where a lot of people are including the photographer and Vincent I grow self consious. This is awkward. I step into the pool where Vincent is already placed and his eyes are literaly eating my body. His throat makes weird movements and his eyes are hooding. His arms are resting on the edges of the pool, making his muscels show.
“You must be prepared.” He says all of a sudden when the cameras are being placed and everyone is working.
“Why?” I aks and swim closer to him.
“They will ask for strange things now.” What?
“What kind of things?” I ask with full curiousity, is he talking about kissing, and all that kind of stuff?
“Just be prepared Pandora. If you dont want to do this, than tell me. I might find a way out.”
“No, it is alright, we signed a contract so this is simply a part of the job.” I state. I find it awkward. Of course. Awkwarder isn’t possible but it is what it is.
When the cameras where finally set and everyone was ready to start, the photograper shouted.
“Could you make out for a few minutes?” What? So this is what Vincent must've meant.
If I could murder someone I would.
I look at Vincent and I hate that he looks as unbothered and uninterested as ussual, while my heart is beating harder and faster than ever.
Vincent comes closer to me, his hand finds it's way to my neck pulling himself and me closer to one another. Our lips are practically touching one another, I feel his breath on my lips which is distracting me.
"Tap me twice if you want me to stop." Those are the words he speaks before crashing his lips to mine, and let me tell you, fireworkd litteraly exploded.