Wren is being interrogated by my parents and I can’t help but sit back and enjoy the sight of her blushing as her nervous tongue attempts to answer all their questions perfectly. They are both interested in her schooling, her family and her education.
I knew my father came across as harsh, however he was quite soft when you got to know him better and with every passing moment he loved her more and more. My mother was also welcoming of Wren. However, she could be deceivingly sweet at first but easy to trigger if you spoke out of line. In general, both my parents were strict but they were kind.
Now I’m proud that they are giving Wren a shot. I know it is because I have stood by her and they can see she makes me happy. I had been more stressed with Cynthia. I had thought, foolishly, that she had fit my life so well.
It was only now I recognised how wrong I was. There was no real passion with us, no real deep thought. She would talk about her fashion brand all day long and be busy going to fitness and beauty appointments.
In contrast, Wren would be at home, wearing clothes covered in cat fur, doing yoga, writing in cafes on her lonesome, driving a ‘guys’ car that didn’t suit her at all, with her mind on what is best for her cat. Money didn’t seem to be important to her in the slightest and being around her filled my heart with warmth. She had an open kindness, a genuine quality hard to find in most.
“I-I like to bake sponge cake, actually,” Wren speaks nervously to my mother, who has now changed the topic to food, “My mother taught me to cook almost anything and I follow recipes well.”
“Theo loves any form of cake,” my mother claps her hands together while giving me a sly smile, hoping to embarrass me.
“Sponge certainly isn’t my favourite,” I decide to add, simply to see Wren cringe.
When she does, her shoulders don’t just hunch but her bottom lip quivers and her eyes sadden. I’m filled with guilt instantly, but at the same time my heart warms with delight at her purity.
I tried, hard, to see if there was anything ever fake or half-feigned by Wren. But every day, it became clearer to me that she wore her heart on her sleeve. I admit... teasing her vulnerability towards the surface was sadistically intriguing.
I liked to assess how she worked.
“Do you have any cats or dogs?” Wren asks, out of the blue and I can see she is hoping to change the subject.
“We love animals,” Gaia confirms.
“They relieve anxiety and keep the kids company as they grow up, of course we have both cats and dogs,” Alex adds, “How old are you, Wren?”
“Twenty two! Oh, no... sorry, twenty three, twenty three. I forgot, for a m-moment –”
“Young!” my father slaps his hand down on the table, grinning, “Already working in such a good position at a young age, I like you more and more. How is your Greek?” he asks, furthering the chat.
“I don’t know any, sorry!” Wren exclaims, blushing hard and glancing at me only for a moment. When she sees my sparkling eyes she becomes even more flustered and has to look away, “I wish I did.”
“Have you had any other boyfriends before, dear?” Gaia asks her, this time a bit sheepishly because it’s an awkward question but there was no other way to really phrase it.
“Um, no,” Wren answers meekly, embarrassed even further. For a moment, she half smiles and her eyes light up, which is what happens every time before she is about to blurt something out, “I actually was asked a relationship question at the job interview and I answered it right! I used my... argh, pet,” I try not to smirk as she now realises how absurd this is sounding but she tries to finish the sentence anyway, “My pet cat, Mr. Fox. We have a good bond, like a relati – never mind, ha ha ha!” she forces herself to smile and my dad chuckles.
“She is funny too!” Alex exclaims, suddenly turning towards me to catch my eye.
I raise an eyebrow at my father as he raises his hands into the air.
“When are you going to marry her?” he asks me, loudly and outright.
I don’t expect him to ask this and my heart skips a beat at the words. My eyes instantly snap to Wren to see her looking at the table like she wants to kill herself in this moment.
Extreme stress is written over her features.
I know her so well now, I know exactly why. She didn’t expect me to approve of such a huge statement and she was preparing for the inevitable downfall. The negative words that would crush her.
“Let the boy relax, he was just engaged!” Gaia scolds Alex but I still want to answer my father.
All the while I can’t keep my eyes off Wren.
If only she’d look up and meet my gaze!
“I don’t plan on keeping her waiting too long,” I murmur, quietly and truthfully.
In that moment, Wren tentatively looks up at me with both relief and terror sparkling in her gaze.
It almost makes me teary, her raw-emotion – not refined, not constrained by socially acceptable norms – which made her so... perfect.
Without a doubt, she was perfect.
I give her a wink, hoping that will make her feel reassured.
“Oh my,” Gaia exclaims, looking down at her phone, “It’s getting late, most people have left, look! We better get going, Alex, get up, we need to help with the food.”
“That’s my son,” my father pats me on the shoulder as he stands with Gaia, “We’ll see you next week. Wren better have a ring on her hand by then, you hear me, boy?”
“Sorry but I’m afraid I’ve gone bankrupt,” I joke, referring to Cynthia’s demise. My father bursts out laughing and even Wren smiles.
My eyes have not left Wren, in the meantime.
I assess her as she seems to realise something.
“Ha ha ha!” she laughs, forcing on a smile, deciding this was all apparently a joke. The only way for this to make sense. No doubt, that is how she was processing all this.
I’m tempted to confuse her even more but instead I stay quiet, which I know will drive her crazy anyway. When my parents have finally left, she grabs a fork and knife in front of her in each hand and for no reason, starts clashing them together.
“Well,” she shrugs while the cutlery go to battle, “That was an interesting chat with your parents. I think they like me now. I think I also saw Arianna drop her plate of food before on her dress, did you see that? Zucchini, everywhere. She picked them out of the salad to eat alone. I hate zucchini. I like green beans though, and Brussel sprouts actually ... um, ha ha, yeah,” she suddenly realises how hard she is smashing the fork and knife together and abruptly drops the utensils onto the table and pushes back into her seat, “I should help clean –!”
She is about to get to her feet and run, I can see it, so I choose to speak now to stop her.
“Stay,” I scold, sitting up straight and leaning onto the table I make sure she doesn’t dare look away, “What did I say about avoiding me, sweet cheeks? You know what happened last time.”
“I wanted to help clean,” she hisses, defensibly.
“I don’t care. Stay, chat, we’ve got all afternoon and all night,” I state, simply.
“So, we are 100% staying all night?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me as she tries to work out my full intentions.
“I would just like some time alone with you, in luxury, is that too much to ask?” I question her boldly, just to see her reaction.
“You had a surprise for me?” she asks, “Something planned? What is it?”
“A long time ago I told you what you needed, do you remember?” I put in a riddle and when I see her sudden shock, I know she remembers instantly.
But a few moments later, she feigns ignorance.
And let me just say, she is the worst liar. She looks at the ceiling and taps her fingers from both hands on the table as she pretends to ‘think’.
Nice try, Wren.
“I need something?” she asks, quietly.
“I was quite harsh when I told you the first time. I’m starting to think I can also calm your fidgeting by helping subdue your energy levels. You need a good work out, sweety,” I smirk into my clasped hands as I rest my elbows on the table and think about having her totally under my hand and control tonight.
She had no idea how far I was hoping to take her soon, when the last few stragglers at the party left.
“So, I am fat?” she snaps, taking me the wrong way.
This statement annoys me, because she was anything but fat, and she shouldn’t question her own natural beauty.
It annoys me a little too much.
“You want it rough, sweet cheeks? You’re asking for it. In your case, you need tough lessons and discipline to learn not to say stupid things like that again,” I add, finding that being more blunt with her was getting easier and more entertaining the more I got to trust that she wouldn’t break from my words.
“I don’t believe any of this was in the contract I signed for work, Theo,” she tries to be witty and funny.
She’s given me more ammo to make her feel delightfully uncomfortable.
“Other contracts can be arranged,” I murmur, very quietly. I knew it pissed her off when she could hardly hear what I said sometimes.
“Um... okay...” she also murmurs, pretending to know what she is even answering too.
“You don’t drink,” I add, changing the subject slightly, but I feel I should give her some sort of... warning. To be fair to her.
“No, I’ve never trusted to drink with anyone because I don’t trust how I would react. How I would... become,” she admits, “Why?”
“If you want, have a glass of wine,” I suggest, lightly.
“But, why?” she asks, persistently, curiosity shining in her bright, blue, innocent eyes.
“If you want to know what it feels like to drink, you can count on me to keep you safe,” I explain.
“Hmmm.... I don’t know, maybe later,” she gives in only marginally, but I have a feeling she’ll be more open to it when everyone else leaves. She then thinks to herself, overthinking everything that’s just been aired in the last few minutes, “Is there any reason I should try, Theo?”
“You’ll loosen up, you’ll listen better, you’ll follow orders quicker,” I admit, “You’ll learn quicker.”
“So, you are planning to teach me more tonight, aren’t you? About how to be a real life... ah... Sub?” she asks, finally assuming she has come to terms with her situation.
“Far from it, sweet cheeks,” I shake my head.
Too bad she still hadn’t guessed right.
Her panic starts to settle back in again.
I decide to give her the answer she is looking for.
“Sometimes punishments are the only way to speed up certain lessons,” I explain, “Are you afraid of getting punished?”
Now, real fear and excitement flood into her facial features. I see it from the nervous blush in her cheeks and the timid movement in her eyes as they glance to my hands and back up to my face.
I can’t help but smirk.
Because tonight, she would be mine.
Wren was starting to realise it as her eyes cloud with want. Just now, she fidgets with her legs, rubbing her thighs together because she’s been aroused by my words. She was so easy with me. It was cute how she thought I didn’t realise it or recognise her instant reactions of arousal every time I bossed her around.
I noticed, too, how she liked it when I used harsher tones or commands on her; a natural submissive.
Looking to drown in full control with a confident, Dominant partner.
She didn’t connect with this part of her deepest desires fully just yet, this I knew.
It was my job to show her and it was probably best she stayed clueless to the extent of what she wanted from me, anyhow. Because if she knew how easy I read her, she’d probably run a mile.
And showing Wren her inner desires was not all I strived to achieve.
Tonight, I wanted to show her who held her heart. I wanted to show her I would do anything to keep it safe and keep it warm, so that a cold, lonely moment never made her heart tremble in fear of being alone again.