Chapter 2: Valentine
Georgia loves Valentine’s Day.
Believing in true love, a foreign concept to most people, is something that’s innate to her. She had witnessed the people around her fall in love and it’s something she had looked forward to since she was a little girl.
She has the typical princess dream—to find the prince who will knock her off and sweep her off her feet. At 21, her wish is granted. A Prince arrives in the form of one, tall be-dimpled guy named Denny.
Denny is fresh meat in the company. A greenhorn that all employees seem to instantly love. Everyone flocks around the new handsome and friendly guy like bees to a flower. Georgia swears that sparks flew when his hands finally grasp hers when they are introduced. When he gives her a smile that lights up his whole face, she declares that she is done.
So she falls. For the first time in her fantasy-led life, she feels that the fuss about true love is not a hoax. Her heartbeat fluctuates whenever he is near—it goes fast and then abruptly slows; before it goes faster on its next set of lubdubs. She finds herself breathing his scent in whenever he’s near. His smell just captivates her senses, allowing her to get intoxicated and flighty and just… free. Her eyes automatically seek him even amongst a throng of people, as if she can sense him wherever he is.
There is only one problem that gets in the way of her happiness—Denny doesn’t seem to like her that way. He makes it clear whenever she tries to make it obvious that she likes him more than a colleague, more than a friend.
He gently lets go when she tries to embrace him. He avoids looking at her whenever they are in the same room. The smiles directed at her is different from the smiles directed at others—the ones for her are always awkward and seem to be insincere.
Georgia is hurt. And frustrated. And sad. Denny is her Prince. And she is supposed to be his Princess. They are supposed to live a happy ever after in a castle somewhere where he will spoil her and love her the way she is supposed to be loved.
But it doesn’t happen. With the way Denny is acting towards her, it will never happen.
So Georgia decides to take a risk. A risk that changes her whole life. A risk that allows her to put a chain on his neck and bind him to her.
Denny marries her. Even though he doesn’t love her.
“I love you,” she whispers as she leans in to kiss him on the lips. It’s the night of their honeymoon and she is in dire need to be consumed by him.
He remains tightlipped. He just stares at an invisible spot on the white wall in front of him while she tries to coax him into responding to her sweet gestures.
Denny is cold. He is always cold to her. But Georgia refuses to give up. She will make him love her even if it takes the whole of her lifetime. This marriage has not been sealed with the best of faith, but she will do her best for this to end up right.
Right for her. Right for him. Right for them.
It’s a promise she makes to herself. A sealed pact that only she swears to protect.
In one year, she will make him truly love her. In one year, they will celebrate Valentine’s Day together. He will finally, finally make sweet love to her and give her the pleasure she deserves.
Georgia swears on the statue of St. Valentine of Terni.
One year later…
Georgia throws her head back passionately, exposing her silky throat glistening with sweat, as pleasure racks her body with intense, delicious shivers. Her hand grasps his hair tightly as she completes the ride on his slick muscle of desire.
The ride goes slow… then faster and faster until the insane hotness splatters around both of them, covering them in a warm cloak of sinful want.
Georgia collapses on her side of the bed, her chest still heaving, as Denny rests his head on her naked abdomen. She runs her fingers through his hair, marveling at the smoothness and softness of its strands. They stay in that sweet position for a few minutes before Georgia finally announces that she still has to make dinner for them.
It’s Valentine’s Day after all.
Denny silently agrees and gets off of Georgia, laying his head on the pillow beside her. Georgia kisses him softly before she gets up from the bed and starts putting her clothes on. Before she leaves the room, she looks back at her husband. Denny remains quiet, but Georgia can see the peaceful look on his face as he lays there with his head facing the ceiling.
Georgia smiles contently as she lifts a hand towards her chest. She wants to cry happy tears. She’s been working hard to fix this for months and now it has paid off. He finally has no qualms being with her. He probably even loves her now. He doesn’t say it, but Georgia can feel it. She can feel it lingering on the tips of her toes until it spreads all throughout the whole of her.
She goes to the kitchen with an extra hop in her step and a smile that can brighten the whole house.
The celebration will be perfect.
“I am happy you finally agreed to a Valentine’s Date with me, my love,” she says as she arranges the dishes in front of them on the table set for two. “I’ve been wanting to do this since last year, but well—you don’t even love me last year.”
She turns her head away from the stove so she can meet Denny’s eyes. She smiles at what she sees in them.
“Thank you,” she says shyly. “For finally falling in love with me.”
Denny just stares, his eyes challenging and full of something that Georgia very well knows what.
Desire. Lust. Love.
“Naughty. You just had me twice before this. Wait until after dinner, please,” she playfully says. When Denny doesn’t say anything, she lets out a dramatic sigh and turns off the stove. Gently, she sits on his lap and wraps an arm around his neck.
“Don’t be like this, love,” she whispers. “I would have loved to do it with you the whole day, but we have to eat.” She presses a palm to his stomach. “This is getting too hard. We have to make it soft. We need some love handles on you. You know I prefer them more than these chiseled ones.”
Denny’s eyes glint with amusement. Georgia laughs and leans in to rub her nose against his. When he doesn’t complain, Georgia closes her eyes and takes his lips into a searing kiss.
A loud thud makes her jump, indicating that she has gotten carried away. Her eyes fly open, and she watches as it rolls away, hitting the cabinet below the sink.
“Oops,” she says while giggling at the sight. “I’m sorry, my love. You’ve always been stubborn. I told you to keep still whenever I kiss you. I know, I know, you can’t resist me.”
Georgia sighs as she stands from his lap, picks it up, and carefully places it back on its usual perch.
“Now keep still, okay? I will cook our dessert.” Georgia leans in and kisses him lightly on the lips, afraid that she will hurt him again for being forceful and a little excited. She gives him one last smile before she turns her back on him. She turns on the stove to cook the rest of the sweetened fruit.
Denny just continues to stare at her slim back, his cold, hardened, and preserved severed head still on the verge of falling from its body.
She never does place it right.
The head falls to the floor once again and rolls until it hits a foot of the table.
Georgia doesn’t notice. She is busy humming Valentine under her breath.
Denny’s head stares at her from under the table.
His eyes still and unblinking.
And they are still cold.
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