At First Sight: Tomorrow With You

Hi there peeps. I just finished writing Peter's POV in At First Sight manuscript I was doing. I am quite pleased with the result, so I decided to put the POV here. I always have a thing for writing but lately I didn't write anymore because I was busy with real life so that skill of mine is, you can say, rusted. Only recently I realized my shortcoming in writing full English stories and it really humble me. That was one of the major reason why I put my other blog as private. I dreamed to be an author ever since I was eight but life got in the way, you know.

        Anyhow, enjoy what I wrote okay? Sorry if I somehow offended y'all for all the mistakes I did below. I am a rookie and not a very good writer in English but I really do wanted to improve my English writing skills. So, thank you for spending your time reading this silly short story of mine. YOLO!


At First Sight Extras: Peter's POV
.....
Tomorrow With You

LIFE COULDN’T BE BETTER. I was forced to attend that stupid event by my father. He was persistent and told me that my presence would reflect a good image for our company. What a load of bullshit. Although I have to thank him for pushing me to come to that boring party held by the company that my late mother owned. If he didn’t force me, I wouldn’t meet her. That curly brunette.

            It’s amazing how fate or destiny or whatever-the-hell-you-want-to-call-it works. I walked into that hall with nothing special on my mind or any expectation that I would walk away with something worth the time I was wasting there.

            How wrong I was.
            I was immediately introduced to Aaron Fuller when I entered the place, the current owner of the publishing company, the position which once filled by my mother. Before the fucking cancer killed her, of course.

            Aaron was a short guy with dirty blonde hair. He had a round belly and generous smile. My late mother was closed to him. I hadn’t met him before this because I wasn’t that interested in this small publishing company. My interest was more into construction and technology. Books were just not my field, to speak of the truth. I didn’t even realize that people still used book at that time. I thought they used Kindle.

            Aaron smiled at me and took my hand in his. His hands were cold. Was he nervous?

I plastered a smile on my face that I’d accustomed to give to my clients. It looked so damn genuine. So real, even I was pulled under the tons of lies I told myself and people around me. No one could know it was just façade I put on my face. No one had the right to know the real me. The real me was dirty. Filthy. No one deserved those impurities in their life. Including my family.

We talked business with Aaron and his ‘friends’ and I already knew this event would be deathly dull. All I could see was falsity and pretension. It seemed like I wasn’t the only one here who knew to put on my façade. These people did too.

Then, when Aaron’s friend, the baldy guy started to convince me on his campaign shit, a beautiful blonde bomb-shelled of a woman in emerald dress sauntered to us. Her eyes were sky blue and she had grace in her walks and yet I could easily imagine her without those little fabric-things she called dress.

“Julia.” Aaron acknowledged that woman.

Oh dear, let that not be his wife. Please, not his wife.

Julia stapled herself next to Fuller’s body. “Hi daddy.” She purred.

The corner of my lips tips up. I loved woman who purrs. Made me wanted to do all sorts of dirty stuffs to them.

However, as soon as I spoke to that woman, the faster I lost my interest in her. She turned out to be a very boring person. The longer I was with her, the painful it felt to continue my fake smile. She was so self-absorbed! I swore if she brought up one of her I-loved-doing-blah-blah-blah or silly jokes again, I would dump this Plastic.

Yup, that was her name from now. Plastic.

“You know what, last summer I went to a saloon and I love-”

That was my cue and I discreetly rolled my eyes. “Excuse me, Julia,” I gently removed her hand from my arm. It was like hanging onto me like some damn spider. I hated clingy girl.

“Where are you going?” She whimpered.

Oh god, that was the limit of my stay. I had to leave, like right now.

I gave her another of my ‘special’ smile. “I have better things to attend to. Will you let me go, woman?” However relax my face looked like; my voice on the other hand, took a drastic change. It was a cold, fuck-off tone.

Julia pulled back her hands in a lightning. Her eyes widened at my face. I bet that she was shocked with my changes. My lips curled in a snarl. I loved to see that kind of reaction from a woman. It made me felt powerful than I already was.

“Leave, Julia.” I bent over and whispered next to her ear.

Julia scuttled away from me.

I stood in the middle of the hall and knew that if I didn’t move from that spot, other women would approach me and to be honest, it was the last thing I wanted that time.

No women. Wow, what the hell was wrong with you, Peter?

I sauntered off to the makeshift bar.

            I ordered a Jack Daniels.

            I sip the thing in one gulp.

            That was the story of my life. Mechanical. Meaningless. Hollow. Worthless.

            My eyes roamed the room and after my second glance, it noticed a brunette by the buffet table. I didn’t know why that sole figure grabbed my attention. From behind, she looked as plain as my secretary. Hell, even my secretary was attractive than her. But there was something about that figure that attracted me like a magnet. Maybe it was the hair.

            She had magnificent brown curly hair. Prior to this, I didn’t have a thing for curly girls. I found their hair to be one giant bird-nest that I didn’t want my fingers to get stuck into. I once mentioned it to a curly-haired girl and the next day I met her, she straightened it. It looked better on her.

            However, this girl looked amazing with them. Her hair was shiny and the curls were distinctive and for one short moment I wanted to run my fingers through them. Will I get stuck though?

            I chuckled alone and the bartender gave me a narrow-eyes-look. I waved my hand at him as nothing. “Private joke.” I explained.

            I looked back at the lady.

She was wearing a plain square-neck black dress and black strap heels and that was it. She looked simple in black. She clearly wasn’t dress to impress like any other women in this room. In fact, she looked so out of place here.

There were no men around her. People went and left the table but she didn’t move. Other people were talking to themselves and flocking among their social circles but not that brunette. She was looking at the food on the table studiously. Her lean finger rested on her chin occasionally as she deliberated something.

            A frown surfaced on my forehead. What was she thinking?

            I observed her for about half an hour before I decided that I had enough with my unquenched thirst of curiosity. I wanted to know her and right then I didn’t give a fuck about the warning that started to flash in my head.

            I wanted her.

            I sneaked behind her, just for fun and giggle. Not. I just didn’t know how to approach her. Yeah right. Peter Chandler. Clueless in wooing a woman. Never happened before. What the hell was wrong with me that evening? I felt like I lost my mojo or something.

            Then, I saw my chance. Or actually heard my chance.

            Her stomach growled and it wasn’t lost on me that she was at the buffet table for the since last thirty minutes and yet didn’t indulge herself.

            I cleared my throat silently before I voiced myself. “It’s something unheard of when someone is still famished even at the presence of buffet food.” My voice sounded different in my hearing. It was rougher than usual. I hope she didn’t notice that.

Then, I saw her spine stiffened and my palms sweat in anticipation. My heart started racing. It was like fifth grade all over again when the teacher asked me to be the ‘Story Teller’ for the day. I put one of my palms into my pants’ pocket and I rubbed it against the fabric surreptitiously. Then I put another palm in and the dry palm out and did the same thing.

What a pussy. Since when were you nervous in front of a woman, Peter? Never.

She didn’t turn around to see my face for a few heartbeats and I almost left her. Maybe she wasn’t interested.

But no. She did turn around and everything felt fucking perfect for me. My world felt like it was on track and it was back on its axis and started to move.

The woman in front of me was curvy and short. A foot shorter than me, it felt. Her eyes were big and whiskey coloured. It reminded me of autumn leaves. Her lips were plump and pink and begged to be teased. I had this large urge to dip forth and take it between my teeth. Oh, what I would do just to taste it. Suddenly, I felt a dying thirst down my throat and my tongue felt restless in my mouth. It wanted to come out. Well, it wasn’t the only part of my body that wanted to come out.

She looked at me and seemed mesmerized by whatever she saw and I took that moment to check her out too.

I looked downward and I fisted my hand as a fire flamed inside my heart. Her hip was curvy and she had ample breast, full and shapely. My fingers twitched. I wanted to knead those curves. Although the woman’s dress left a lot to imagination—I meant like, give me some cleavage, I needed to see those boobies—but I enjoyed the way it fit her upper torso. I can imagine myself ripping that off her later. My fingers crossed in expectation.

I took a deep breath to rationalize myself. I’d just met this woman and yet the feeling inside me was blazing my body and pleading me to drag this woman somewhere and fuck myself to oblivion. I needed her like I needed to take the next breath. I didn’t think I could just walk away from this so-called-party and not tasting her on my tongue. Yes, a lot of tasting must happen.

It didn’t strike me until later that she stopped breathing. Or barely breathing. Her eyes were mentally undressing me and I felt a surge of satisfaction as I saw that she liked what she was seeing.

I could show you more if you let me.

A smile was threatening to appear and I did my best to keep my face as impassive as I could.

“The food here isn’t good enough?” I lift my eyebrow when she still didn’t react to me.

She blinked, like she couldn’t believe that I was talking to her. She had long, thick eyelashes. I wondered how it felt against my cheek, when I plunged my tongue into her mouth. A shudder went through me, right from my toes to the end of my hair.

That must’ve felt good.

“They aren’t very filling.” Her voice was small, whispery, and so damn sexy to my ears.

Oh, I would know what would be very filling. In fact, there was no food involved. Just me and you. I ran my finger along my lip repeatedly at my inner innuendo. And I would really like to fill you up. Feeling that wet warmth clenching around mine. Okay, I was going mad with these innuendos I had with myself.

“What do you have in mind then?” I muttered, not really care what she had in mind. Unless we had the same thing in mind, then I aimed to please.

            “Huh?”

            “What do you want to eat?” I wanted to eat you.

            I heard a small gasp from her and that fuelled my lust. I knew she was affected by me. Deeply affected. Almost as I was. I took another deep breath without giving the tension on my face. God knew this woman should be ecstatic if she knew that she unsettled me this much. I didn’t know her that well and she could be just like any other woman. Venomous.

            I stepped closer, to test whether she fell in my arms like other women or pushed me away and played hard-to-get, either way I had plans for her. I can imagine the glint in my eyes. I found a prey to play.

            I willed my lips to a curve, resembling a smile, a smile that I knew could make any woman weak in the knee. This woman had no chance going against me.

“Pi-pizza, maybe.” She mumbled.

            Prove number one: she stuttered.

            My lips twitched. This proving to be easy. A frown later appeared but I quickly wiped it away. No woman liked to see a man frowned at her. Just spelled, bad news.

            Maybe she was the same as the others. The flushed cheeks. The uncomfortable limbs, like she didn’t know what to do with them. The heavy and long breathing. She showed all the signs. I should’ve had walked away by now. Easy prey led to easy lay. And I didn’t want easy lay. I wanted hot, sweaty and urgent fuck. Something out of the world. And this woman looked like she wanted missionary only. Not my taste.

            But, there was something. Something that told me to wait. Just wait for a minute. Talk to her.

            But how?

            Uncharacteristically of me, I picked up the shrimp form her plate and ate it while my eyes fixated on her.

A foreplay, Peter? Really? Didn’t you have something more original than that? You said to yourself earlier that she was a missionary girl. No need to approach her like that.

            Shut up, I told my other self. She liked it.

I can’t help but smile as I noticed her reaction. I saw the tension on her face, although she tried to hide it away from me. Then she swallowed hard and tried to avoid my burning gaze. I felt like I wanted to do a cart-wheel after that. I felt like I wanted to jump out from my suit and dance tango or some shit.

            As she squeezed shut her eyes, my pride roared and I almost lifted her in my arms and dashed out from this stupid place. I wanted to fuck her so bad that all my body throbbed, one place more than others as if it had its own heart.

            Calm down, Peter. You could do this.

            “You look distracted.” I teased, though it didn’t sound like a tease and more like a statement because I can feel the validation in my own situation. I was the one distracted here. I was the one who wanted to hammer her against the wall, the floor, the table… God, I was hard as steel right now.

“You’re tall.” She blurted out.

My lips twitched again. Where did that come from? I shifted around, to get comfortable with my hard-on. I tried my best to continue our conversation despite my ‘condition’. “You are distracted.”

Yeah right, Peter. You were the one distracted.

            “Well, I have a six-feet-something-inches-of-distraction in front of me right now. So, figure the rest out yourself.” She mumbled again.

            And who would’ve had thought mumbling would be so adorable?

            You were losing your mind, Peter.

            Shut up. “Three.”

 “Pardon?” She cocked her head in question. Okay, now that was cute.

“Six feet three.” I shrug, telling her my height. I had no idea why we were talking about the measurement of my height. It wasn’t important.

Peter, you were such a disappointment.

Okay, now I felt like I wanted to face-palm myself. Where was my head going with this silly conversation? Maybe you weren’t using the right head. Riiiiiiighhht.

“Okay.”

Awkward silence.

I wanted to keel over myself. I was about to change the topic when her voice bathed my ears.

“I’m five feet two, if you want to know.” She looked down, maybe embarrassed.

I was shockingly surprised. Not because of what she said but by how refreshing it felt when I learnt something new about her. “Well, glad to know that.”

I really wanted to know this woman. Not just her height. I wanted to know her favourite food. Her favourite song. Her face when she was asleep. I wanted to know everything there were about her. Hell, I even wanted to know the size of her shoes.

I smiled, not a fake smile, but a real smile. It had been awhile since that smile showed up. How appropriate that this woman was the one that dug it out of me?

            “I-I just-”A gulp from her. “Since you told me your height, it’s just logical for me to tell you mine too, you know. I don’t want to seem rude because you’re telling me your height. I should’ve reciprocated.”

            I smiled wider and that made her more anxious.

“I mean like, if you tell me your weight though, I would’ve probably not tell you mine, ‘cause you know. Women don’t like to reveal their weight. It’s our number one rule. So, if you tell me other info about yourself—”

            I can’t help but chuckled from that on. She was just too fucking adorable.

            She smiled embarrassedly at me. “I’m blabbering, am I?”

            I nodded, trying and failing to hide my snickers. It took me awhile to regain my composure but when it did, I didn’t hesitate in offering my name. “I’m Peter.” I said while holding out my hand. Deep inside, I can’t wait to touch her skin. I wondered how good she felt.

            A flash of disappointment ran across her face and that flash warned me to build up my wall. Why did she suddenly look disappointed? Was she waiting for someone? Did she think I was somebody else? Hell, this seriously pissed me off.

            I clenched my teeth tightly meanwhile trying to keep my face devoid of emotion. While I was trying to rein my anger inside me until the point I was boiling with inappropriate irritation, the brunette took my hand and wrapped it around hers.

            A spark of electricity went through my hand despite my irritation. I stared at her face carefully but something told me that she didn’t feel the spark as I did. A weird sense of feeling enveloped me then. It was still irritation but surrounded by disappointment. I didn’t know what I was thinking. Was I hoping that she felt the same spark so that we vowed our true love to each other and strode into the sunset like those stupid movies? I wasn’t a romantic guy. Hell, I was far from that. But nothing else could have explained the feeling of disappointment I was feeling.

            “Nice to meet you… Peter.” Finally, the brunette’s voice came across my numb mind.

            I tried my damn best to hide the myriad of feelings and self-reflection I was having earlier by inconspicuously asking her what she was thinking. “If I didn’t know you better, I would’ve said you look disappointed.”

            She shrugged off her shoulders. “Well, you don’t strike to me as a Peter, if you know what I mean.”

            Right at that moment, I felt a huge relief had been bestowed upon me. It was like a heavy ass boulder had been lifted up from my fucking shoulders and I could finally breathe well. I smirked at her, despite the big urge to grin like a Cheshire cat in me. “What do I strike you as then?”

            “Something along letter ‘J’ or ‘D’.”

            I withheld the need to burst into laughter then. When did she make these silly guesses? “My middle name is Jeremiah. You’re not that far off.” I played along with her games of guess because I found it so unique and endearing.

            You seriously needed help, Peter. This was just another ordinary woman. No need to put her so high up in the pedestal when you were only known her for two minutes.

            This time, I couldn’t refuse the logic in my head. Maybe he was right. I was way ahead on this. Maybe I could put a notch on this speed I was going. I already sounded like a pussy.

            Finally! I could knock some sense into you.

            “Peter Jeremiah?”

            I struggled in getting my head back together again with the ongoing conversation I was having right now. I looked at the petite brunette in front of me. Could she prove to be different from other women I’d met so far? Then, I tried to recall what she said earlier and suddenly I chuckled to myself when I found the hilarity in all of these. I nodded while explaining to her about my name. “My mother had this infatuation with biblical names when she was pregnant with me.”

            I laughed further at my stupidity. What the hell was I thinking? I was taking things to far-stretched. I sounded like a pussy with this deep insecurity problem I had right now. This was just another woman I met at an event. There was no reason to be so fucking up-tight. I was losing my mind when I just met the girl for two minutes. Hell, this girl was bad for me. And what made this even funnier was that I was talking with her about my mother. I hadn’t been able to talk about my mother for so long without feeling hurt by the betrayal she left onto me. For the past couple of years, I couldn’t even summon good memories about her because what she did to me was too hurtful that I forgot that she was once a damn good mother to me and the twins. I forgot that she had her own redeemable values. Like the name she gave me. She once told me the meaning behind my name which was ‘rock’ and she told me that she hoped that I could be hard and steady as a rock to my sisters and became someone who people could hold onto when trouble finds them. She told me that I was the saviour of her soul. I never once asked her what she meant by that and when I did have the time to ask her that, she dropped a fucking bomb onto my lap and hoped that I could solve it.

“Care to share whatever you’re thinking right now?” She cocked her head, curiosity blaring in her eyes.

I shook my head ruefully. I couldn’t tell her what I was thinking. What was I supposed to say? My mother betrayed everyone’s trust and just before she kicked the bucket, she passed onto me the sins of her betrayal. No way could I ever say that. I wouldn’t want her to run away from me. I hadn’t had the delight of getting to know her better yet. So, I told her something else. “My full name is Peter Jeremiah Adams.” Well, that was a little of lie too. But I preferred her calling me Peter Adams than Peter Chandler.

He eyes widened in surprised. “Seriously?”

I nodded and laughter just continued to come out from my mouth. This nameless brunette kept surprising me. She was the only person I knew who could find something funny in my full name. Only her.

Fuck, she giggled. Damn. I imagined myself crushing my mouth onto those luscious lips of hers. As the result, I had a full body shiver because it was just that good. I wanted to feel those soft curves around my body, my fingers fisting her hair as I slammed my tongue into her mouth. I fucking wanted to taste her so much I think I drew blood in my palm because I was clenching my fist too tight. My cock was dying—not literally—for the feel of her warm wet pussy.

God, another shiver just ran through me. I needed a release fast.

Then, I noticed two small dips on either sides of her cheek. She had dimples!

“I didn’t realize that before.” I stared at her face more carefully, trying to catalogue every new discovery that my eyes could see. Her eyes were warm honey-coloured. Her eye lashes were long and every time she blinked, the lashes rested firmly onto his cheek bones. She had sprinkling of small amount of freckles on her nose that you couldn’t see unless you were really trying to spot them. My lips finally tipped up when my eyes finally found her gorgeous mouth. I loved that mouth of hers. When—not if—I got the chance, I would spend my day licking and biting and suckling those delicious pink lips. I promised to myself.

The nameless curly brunette smiled back at me, showcasing those lips of hers that I adored so much. Hell, I loved her smiles too. I wanted to make her smiles all the times.

 That was how I met the nameless curly brunette or as later I found out her name is Penelope (cute name for cute lady) in that awfully dull event. I am grateful that my father forced me to attend that stupid event for if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t meet the woman of my life. She was—is—everything that I never knew I needed. I am forever lucky to have met her. Because of her, I learnt to forgive my late mother and myself. She taught me that there’s always tomorrow no matter what kind of end-of-the-world feelings you’re having. And tomorrow with her is the best kind of promise ever.

~ ~ ~
       
          So, what do you think? It got some vulgar/crass words, I know. In my defense, I keep reading these mature/adult/erotica novels, so it caught up on me. I don't know when I will finally finish this story since I would be busy with college stuffs at the end of this month. *sigh*

          That is all I could share for today. See ya later in my next post. Ciao.

Author Wannabe,
Liely

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