His Little Flower (Felix and Flora)

I lay down on my bed

with a thud, giving him the stinky eye. He didn’t really notice, or maybe he deliberately ignored it. He sat down on the bed beside me, untying his shoelaces and getting comfortable. He took off his tie and threw it on my study table.

He was sitting up, looking at the ceiling, and I was looking at him. His hair curled a little at the nape of his neck. It was messy. He was due a haircut.

She doesn’t like me for real.” Felix said finally. “She just wants to have sex.”

“And you?” My response was quick and sharp. “Do you?”

He looked at me sideways. “I wouldn’t mind it.” He mumbled.

“Have sex with me then. Not her.”

His eyes widened, and he stared at me for a second, his mouth slightly agape. When he didn’t say anything, I grabbed his hand, in a rare moment of courage, and kept it on my boob, His eyes flew up to mine. I raised my eyebrows. He didn’t remove his hand, but he didn’t squeeze or anything. He just kept it there, slightly shaking.

I was shaking too.

It felt surreal, and my heart was beating right out of my chest. I think he could feel it underneath his hand.

“You’re not ready, Flora.” He said finally. He still hadn’t moved his hand. He stared into my eyes intensely,

“So, you’ll run to her?”

“I won’t have sex with her.” He assured me. “Or anyone else. Not until you’re ready.”

“I am ready” My voice fell a few decibels. “I know I am.”

“Yeah?” His hand slid slowly up my chest. I could feel my nerves were on fire. He lightly grazed my collarbone with the tip of his finger, and I think I stopped breathing. His hand reached upwards and closed lightly around my neck. “You’re ready for me, hah, flower?”

This was a strange feeling. Something allen was erupting inside me and it was so discomfiting and so good at the same time.

“Yes.” I whispered.

He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think so.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. At least, I tried to. “Why do you get to decide?” I accused.

“I just do, baby.” He slowly withdrew his hand from my neck, I sat up.

I felt a little rejected. Was he making excuses? Did he just not want to do it with me? Did he not find me attractive? Sometimes I thought he saw me as

a child. He would always see me as one. I longed for the day he would see me as a girl he wanted to be with, could be with.

It was like he read my mind. “I’m going to make your first time special, alright?” He said softly. “And then every time after that, Flora.”

I nodded, blushing. Suddenly, I felt very stupid. I could still feel

el his hand on my boob, I would feel it for days.

Felix left soon after. I walked him down to his car and then came back inside, planning to run upstairs to hang out with my parents doing just that, when a hand on my T shirt pulled me back.

was Hannah, having pulled me into the kitchen,

“Don’t go in there, Miss Flora” She said hesitantly.

“Why?”

“Your father is…occupied.”

“Oh.” I said, “A work meeting or something?”

for a bit. I was

+10%

Bonus

“More or less.”

*T’ll just go see Mom, then.”

“She is also in there.”

That was weird. Mom never sat in with Dad at his work meetings. He was in fact, very bent on keeping both of us away from his work. My father was the head of security in the mafia. He was

powerful and his line of work was dangerous. Besides, he thought women should be kept away from work, and he made sure of that, with Mom.

Since Mom had grown up in the mafia, she knew things and how things worked. In the beginning, she had tried to give in her two cents, but Dad had shut her down. After a

point, she stopped trying.

I shrugged and sat down at the kitchen island. Hannah offered me some of the blueberries she always bought for Felix. I ate one or two. I wasn’t a fan. I liked them better in smoothies or made into muffins.

Hannah was working silently on our dinner, humming away. I watched her cook. I liked to cook as well. It was therapeutic. But I never had time to do it, or ever needed to, because it was always Hannah who cooked for us. When I grew up, I would cook a lot more.

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I watched as she moved around the kitchen swiftly, doing so much at the same time. I think we would starve if Hannah wasn’t with us.

Chit chatter broke me from my reverie. I stepped off the stool and peered out the doorway to see who was coming downstairs. It was a group of men- four, tall and scary looking. They all had beards and tattoos and very… rugged looks, to say the least. Not like the well dressed, suited up men who usually worked with Dad. They looked more like a biker gang than anything.

My Dad was trailing behind them. He shook hands with all of them, bidding a formal goodbye. I continued to stare at them. One of them, the shortest one, looked around the house. He spotted me, and smiled slowly. I smiled back, just to be polite.

My father noticed. He always noticed. He noticed everything.

“Asensio.” He coughed loudly. “Not her.”

His gaze turned to me. “Go to your room.” I gulped, nodding. I stepped out gingerly and ran upstairs. I could feel the gaze of all five men follow me till 1 made it to my room and locked up. It creeped me out. It made me feel icky and dirty. I did not like their gaze. It wasn’t even a sexual one, it was worse. I couldn’t put a word on it if I wanted to.

That was very strange. I wondered what my father was up to. I hoped my mother was okay.