Page 1 of Downfall

Roman

Christ she’s beautiful. That’s the only thought that keeps going round in my head as I’ve watched her.

She laughs, she smiles, she radiates the kind of warmth that hits your soul and settles in it, burning through every dark moment of your life and erasing them entirely.

Her eyes catch mine. For a second it feels like everything stops. Like the world is still spinning but the two of us are no longer moving with it.

My breath stops. My heart stops too.

Like someone’s just grasped it and gripped it so tightly I can’t even breathe.

She knows who I am. And she’s more than aware that a Montague has no reason to be here, at her party. She tilts her head, her cheeks turning pink as if she’s actually shy under all that sunshine brightness she displays and then she slips away, out the door, into the darkness.

But not before she throws me one final look. One I can read only too well.

She wants me to follow her.

I smirk, considering my options. It could well be a trap. She could be leading me out to my death right now, but damn what a way to die, if I got to touch her, if I got to kiss her just once then it feels like it would be worth it.

I glance over at Ben. He’s the only one stupid enough to have come with me, gate crashing this little Capulet soirée. He’s necking some blonde girl in a corner he’s been flirting with for the last hour. Clearly he won’t be too bothered by my absence so I do it. I walk out. I follow the little minx even though there’s a good chance I won’t see the sunrise if I do.

It’s dark outside. My eyes take a minute to adjust but as they do I can see it’s just her. No one else. No assassins waiting to slit my throat.

I lick my lips stepping closer.

She looks up meeting my gaze and suddenly it feels like the tables have flipped. Like I’m the predator and no longer the prey.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” I murmur.

She swallows, her face showing more nervousness. “I’m not alone.” She says quietly. Damn she even sounds like an angel.

“No?” I make a show of looking around. “I don’t see anyone else here.”

She smiles, takes my hand and the shock of her flesh against mine sends something up my entire spine. She pulls me further away from the door. “That’s because there isn’t anyone. It’s just us.”

Just us. Those words do something to me. It feels like she’s united us, joined us. Two mortal enemies who have no business conversing, no business breathing the same air, and yet here we are.

“This is a trap.” I state.

She lets out a small chuckle. “Why would I trap you?”

I step closer, breathing her in. She’s smaller than me, even in the ridiculous heels she’s in. She steps back as if she suddenly realises the situation she’s put herself in.

“Are you scared?” I tease. “Scared big bad Roman Montague is going to eat you?”

She gulps. Her body flattening against the wall and I wonder if all of this was false bravado, an alcohol fuelled notion on her part that’s quickly gotten out of control.

I push into her, running my face across her skin and through her hair. She smells so good I groan. In my pants I can feel my dick already straining, desperate for me to be fucking her already.

“I think you want me to eat you.” I murmur. “I think you want me to devour you whole.”

A squeak escapes her lips that makes me wonder how experienced this girl even is because I’ve never seen her with anyone, never even heard her name associated with anyone.

But her hands grab at the hem of her dress and to my surprise she starts to raise it up, higher and higher, showing the top of her thighs and then her black lacy panties beneath.

“Go on then.” She half whispers.

I grin. She’s taunting me. But that’s okay. I’m more than game. I grab her, spinning her around. If anyone were to come out right now I don’t want them to see her. She’s mine, all mine, as is this moment. I’ll be damned if I share it with anyone. And I’ll be damned if anyone sees who we are and takes it from us.

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