Chapter 54

Chapter 54
The urge to check her post the moment she made it was stronger than Aria could bear.

That was of course why she had deleted her instagram the second she made the post. Delayed gratification was key in enacting revenge on the internet. No one knew this better than her.

She’d spent the rest of the day practically vibrating, with excitement or something else she couldn’t name.

Did this count as going on a date with Aston?

It didn’t by societal and — quite frankly — normal human being standards. But Aria was not a normal human being.

They would be on their way to ruin a man’s entire career and maybe set his auction house on fire while at it, and all Aria truly cared about was whether the new shade of her lipstick would attract Aston’s eyes, even if it was for a little bit.

That was what found her in front of her mirror, five minutes before they were to leave, frantically applying and reapplying different lipsticks.

“Too bright! Why is it too bright? Were you always this bright?! Why did I buy you?!”. Aria was yelling at an inanimate tube of lipstick.

Aston was always on time. It was sensible to assume he hated being late. Therefore it was sensible to assume he wouldn’t be pleased with Aria taking all his time this way. But Aria hated not looking good even more than she hated Hartie, and she hated Hartie with perfect hatred.

She tossed the too bright lipstick away and tore off a piece of her wet makeup wipes, violently scrubbing away the too bright lipstick and picking up another tube.

Now she had the opposite problem. This one was always too thick. Was she just doomed to be cooked?

She applied it lightly, hoping it would cooperate with her for once and stay the shade it was when she applied it.

It stayed.

She stared at it hard in the mirror.

It was still consistent.

“Finally!”, she exclaimed excitedly, picking up her black leather jacket, draping it over her red dress. She couldn’t count how many red dresses she had.

Red was her favorite color to wear, it reminded her of her favorite thing, — apart from her baby of course —, fire.

She checked the mirror one last time and restrained the need to shriek. The lipstick had gotten thicker. It didn’t even consider her pain all day or the rawness of her lips after cleaning off so much lipstick. It went and became darker on her lip anyway.

She glanced at the clock. 

Now she was officially late.

It had taken her five minutes to change the bright lipstick and the one she thought was perfect had done like all traitors tended to do and changed its shade too.

There was a knock on her door. 

Aria froze with her hand above her wipes.

She could picture Aston’s murderous aura from the morning, she could see him scowling in anger from being made late, it was so clear in her mind’s eye.

“C-come in,” dammit. She was stuttering.

The door gently swung open and Aria smelt him before she saw him.

Her shoulders unintentionally lowered at the calming scent of sandalwood coiling around her room. 

Her room with all her dresses on the bed and shoes flung haphazardly. Fuck.

She shot up and pushed him out before he could fully enter, locking the door behind her and leaning on it. “Sorry, I forgot, I’m not fully dressed yet.”

She dashed to the bed and scooped as many dresses as she could with both hands, just throwing them into her closet. Thank goodness it was a walk in closet and not a small wardrobe that could overflow.

“We’re running a bit late, my lady.”

A shiver crawled up her spine.

But not the bad kind.

He didn’t sound murderous.

No, if Aria was being generous, his tone had a lilt to it. A teasing lilt, like Aria’s erratic behaviors were making him amused.

She scooped up the rest of the gowns and tossed them into the closet. That would be a problem for future her. She kicked the shoes under the bed too and opened the door.

The moment she came into contact with his gorgeous, heavenly blessed face, she remembered her thick awful lipstick.

He seemed to have understood the look in her eye, because he grabbed her hands to his chest and instead pulled her in when she attempted to push him out again.

“I don’t like being late, my lady”, he murmured, and she was right, the glint in his eyes was amused, not angry. 

Aston was in a perfectly tailored suit, one that complimented his broad shoulders and tapered at his trim waist, hinting at the body Aria had seen in the morning. She could hear her pulse. Her heart frantically beating against her rib cage didn’t feel painful like it did when she was nervous, no it just felt loud and incessant.

“My lipstick’s coming out wrong,” she blurted, if only to distract Aston’s unwavering gaze from her eyes so she could breathe for a second.

It was the wrong idea, because now his gaze fell to her mouth. “It looks perfect to me.”

She could practically feel herself blushing. “You don’t have a designer’s keen gaze. It’s too thick, I need to spread it more evenly. I won’t push you away again, just let me clean it off a bit.”

She didn’t know what the look in Aston’s eyes were. He seemed to be contemplating something. “I can help you with that.”

She furrowed her brows and let out a little laugh. “Are you secretly a make up artist? How are you going to hel—“

Aria couldn’t finish her sentence, because Aston had captured her mouth with his in the next second. She was sure her eyes were like saucers. 

The man whose mouth was on hers was Aston.

A sober Aston.

A normal Aston.

SHE WAS BEING KISSED BY ASTON.