•Camden•
My right lash line hurt like crazy after getting the lashes there plucked by a drunk Ivy Beaumont. I exhaled through my mouth, trying to ease the pain.
I stared at Ivy's dewy eyes and pouty pink lips after she answered my question. She didn't even act like she'd done any wrong.
My lack of follow-up words made her cock her head to one side, letting her thick brown hair cover the right side of her face.
"What lash serum do you use?" she asked, her light brown eyes growing brighter as she fixated on my own eyes; my lashes, probably.
"Ivy's personal lash-growing serum." I answered without thinking.
"Really??" She bounced on her toes, excited to be told what she must consider a super top secret.
"No. That's a lie." I pulled her closer to me and stretched a hand to stop an incoming cab.
"How could you?" Ivy spoke with a betrayed tone.
I didn't look at her because I had already pictured her face in my head, and just the imaginary visuals could send me spiralling.
"Keep quiet. I'm sending you home." I opened the door and gently shoved Ivy into the cab.
She groaned unnecessarily in the softest voice and I had to gulp down on my saliva. This girl had no idea what she was doing.
As I was about to step into the car myself, she patted my chest feebly and said, "No. You're not allowed to come with me. Find another cab."
Now, she was being difficult. I shot the driver a look and he shrugged, signalling he wasn't in a rush. I could guess that the man probably thought we were a married couple.
We might as well be, at this point.
"If anyone's not allowed to come in, it should be you. I was the one who found this cab. You go." I argued.
Ivy's lips came apart as she registered my accurate words in her head. Then she scrunched her features into a frown and scooted further into the cab to make space for me.
"That's a good girl." I praised her, stepping into the car and shutting the door.
She hardened her face further at the praise, looking like she had a lot of negative words to say. Before she could say them, I told her, "Behave well or no IVORY for you."
It was just a simple statement that shouldn't scare her off, but Ivy's eyes went so wide that you'd think her soul just flew out of her chest.
She must really treasure the promise I had in store for her. Because of that one measly threat, Ivy kept quiet during the entire ride to her place.
To be honest, I hadn't planned to take her home today or even invite her out with my friends, but here I was. I hated doing things that hadn't been specially accounted for ahead of time.
This entire sham of getting married to Ivy was never a part of my long term intention. Though everything about it seemed to be planned, I should have never made Ivy a part of any of this.
I snuck a glance at her during the ride. Her breath had already become even, signifying that she was asleep. Her sleeping face was so peaceful and beautiful, in stark contrast to her work face that she wore as a permanent accessory.
All complimentary smiles and fake endurance. That was Ivy. Never to be captured unaware by the moment.
Her drunk self was slightly better. A bit more honest, but still restrained all the same.
The craziest thing she'd done all night was pluck my lashes. Other people's crazy drunk actions led them to jail.
When the driver stopped in front of Ivy's building, he turned around to tell me, "You two make such a cute couple."
I smiled derisively. "Of course, we do."
I paid the fare and scooped Ivy out of the cab. She weighed heavier than I thought she would but I acted like I wasn't fazed since I was the one who occasionally lifted weights between the two of us.
I got into the building and took the lift to her floor. I knew her direct address even without her telling me, probably because I had a few eyes watching to make sure she was safe now that she was a part of my life.
Ivy's keycard was inside the small purse she had almost forgotten to take with her in the private lounge which I had to wear around my arm all this while. I unlocked the door and carried her into the house.
I planted her as gently as I could on the nearest couch in the living room and she stirred in her sleep.
"Good riddance to that guy…" she mumbled.
I raised a brow in amusement. Ivy had been saying a lot of nonsense today about her family and Dorian tonight. I didn't need to put two and two to know that the guy she was referring to was that dumb Montague kid.
I chuckled a bit, watching her make funny faces while sleeping. She seemed okay, overall. I wasn't going to keep watch of her and make sure she brushed her teeth before sleeping.
She might hate me for treating her like a child when she gains consciousness tomorrow.
It was better for me to leave now. I was about to turn and be on my way when she made a pitiful sound.
"Owww. It hurts…"
"What hurts?" I asked, scanning her body with my eyes to check.
"It hurts…" she repeated without answering the question. My visual scanning stopped at her feet. It must be the heels.
I went down to take them off.
That was when I saw that her feet were all red and swollen. The heels really did a number on them. How long had she been putting up with the discomfort?
"Fuck…" That looked painful.
Just, fuck it. Now, I couldn't leave her in this state. I went around the house to find her first aid kit, and thankfully, she kept her house neat and her things were easy to find.
I applied ointment on her feet, especially around the ankles and massaged them a bit to make the swelling go down.
During the act, she kept groaning softly and trying to retract her feet, repeating that it hurt. Once the pain started to reduce and her complaints died down, I guessed that it was enough and stopped rubbing her feet.
I put the first aid where I found it and decided to give her one last look before I left.
I stood over the couch and observed her face.
"I chose right." I almost patted myself on the back. Ivy was an indescribable beauty.
"Not a good girl…" she suddenly muttered, calling my attention to her full lips.
"What did you say?" I indulged her.
Almost like she could hear me, she repeated, "I'm not a good girl."