Star Crossed Lovers

We took a different approach to Rory Cube prompt. The three images — drama (comedy/tragedy), shooting star, and an arrow. AJ went the route of Shakespeare and his star crossed lovers. The arrow symbolically being cupid’s arrow early on. It’s quick and dirty, and there is a whole story that could be told, but AJ broke it down as quickly as we could so as to get you an story.

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The club was dark — it was always dark. The way I preferred it. I didn’t want anyone to see the shadows lingering in my eyes. I didn’t want to see theirs. I came to the club alone with every intention of leaving alone. That was until I saw him. His gorgeous blue eyes. His simple smirk when he caught me checking him out. It was like cupid’s arrow had struck me through the heart. I crooked a finger at him, but he shook his head. And then his friend distracted him from me and I lost the feeling.

I danced. My entire motivation for the night gone on the winds of time with the fleeting moment shared with the blue-eyed man. I went home alone, unsatisfied yet filled with hope of a better tomorrow.

Three weeks later, the blue-eyed man almost entirely forgotten stepped through the door with a man that only brought terror to my heart. I pasted a smile on to my face and stepped out from behind the bar. “Can I help you, Mr. Kennedy?”

“Is your father here?” He asked. The blue-eyed man smirked as he watched us speaking. I couldn’t help the genuine smile the spread across my lips when he winked at me. 

“He is. I’ll go get him.” I left the two men standing in the lobby while I went back to get my dad.

I found my dad in the back room taking stock. “Mr. Kennedy is here.” I said without warning.

My dad jumped as he swore in Italian. I didn’t know if it was from the fright or the news I had delivered. But it didn’t matter as he dusted his hands and handed me the inventory.. “I’ll take care of this. You finish this.”

I sighed. I wanted to go see the blue-eyed man. But I guess that would not happen now.

I sorted through boxes and rearranged inventory, taking stock. My mind wandered to the blue eyes, the smirk on his lips. I wanted to kiss them. I wanted to do so much more that my body tightened at just the thought of his hands on mine.

A throat cleared behind me and I turned to see those same blue eyes I’d been fantasizing about behind me. Heat rushed to my face, but I met his gaze head on. He liked his lips and took a step towards me, shutting the door behind him. There was a loud snick as the lock caught in the mechanism and I cocked my head at the stranger locking us inside.

I involuntarily took a step back. His smirk grew wider. “Afraid of little ole’ me?”

I shook my head. My mouth was dry I couldn’t speak if I wanted to.

“Speechless. Though, I see what you think of me.”

I laughed, though it sounded like I had choked on my tongue. A tower of boxes behind me impeded my movement, and I pressed my hands down into the box I’d found to grip. He laughed. His voice made me quiver. His eyes…

He pulled a card from his pocket and tucked it into the front of my jeans, his fingers brushing along my zipper with a featherlight touch before his hands were back to his side. “Call me.”

I gulped as he backed up, still facing me. His eyes never left mine. My hands were sore from the grip on the box and I wanted to grab the card, but I didn’t. I wanted more. I whimpered.

“Call me.” He said again as he unlatched the door and left me alone in the darkness again. 

Moments passed, but they felt like hours as I waited until I composed myself. The card wasn’t surprising; he worked with the same firm that was trying to buy the restaurant from my father. But his name — Alex Kennedy — son of the man who was now trying to intimidate my dad. The common folk didn’t call them thugs, but that’s what they were. They called themselves protection. Though from whom I had no idea.

And now they were playing dirty — sending the son after me.

I frowned and tossed the card into the bin. But those blue eyes haunted me the rest of the day.

I could have only wished for another month to have passed before seeing those haunting blue eyes again, but as I left for the night that same day he stood in the alley as I locked up after tossing the last of the garbage into the dumpsters.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

I smirked at him. I liked the melody of his voice as he tried to maneuver his way around my heart. He was doing a damn fine job of making me swoon. “Just locking up.”

“I can see that,” he grinned.

“I’m just a lackey here, just because my father owns the place doesn’t give me any sway over things.” I said as I headed up the alley to the street.

“What?”

“I can’t talk my dad into paying you more.” I glanced in his direction. The frown marred the sparkle in his eyes, but when he caught my gaze he smirked.

“That’s not why I’m here.” He grabbed my arm and turned me towards him, pushing me up against the brick wall. His knee pushed between my legs and his lips pressed against mine. I moaned into his mouth and I could feel his smirk against my lips even as he kissed me hard.

He pulled away with a satisfied smile. “Call me,” he said, stuffing another card into my coat pocket then he slid into the shadows and was gone.

I wanted to throw the card away in the nearest bin as I walked home. But I didn’t. After a long hot shower, I laid down in my bed fondling the card above me. 

I sighed and grabbed my phone and dialed the now memorized number from the card. His voice was like heaven.

It felt like forever — the next three months. He and I walked a fine line. If my father knew, he’d kill me. If his father found out, he’d kill my fathers. Star-crossed lovers, if there were any. The quarrel between our families doomed our fate, just like Romeo and Juliet. 

But there was one thing about falling in love with a mobster — faking a death was easy. A simple car crash and two horribly burnt bodies with faked records, and we were sipping cocktails on the beach in Fiji with unknown names — married and everything.