Thread: Just a Pretty Face ::: {Ariamella & November Bleeds}

Prologue Beautiful, he breathed in my ear, turning my insides to liquid and my body threatening to do the same in his arms as we danced, his hands on my hips and my back pressed against him. He was just so... so yum. You are so beautiful. I could've said the same about him, but he probably already knew that. It wasn't five minutes ago that he'd come and asked me to dance, to which I'd obviously accepted. We were basically a perfect match, unlike the shy, awkward boy who had asked earlier. I kind of felt bad about what I said to him, but he needed to know the truth. I mean, I was only saving him from future embarrassment if he kept asking out girls like me . I knew I was a ten, but him? He was a four, maybe a four-point-five, but that was probably just me being really generous. In contrast, the man I danced with now was almost perfect, a real piece of man candy who had strong arms and a delectable butt. It was obvious that took the time to work on squats at the gym, and I figured that if he looked this good with clothes on , how good would he look with them off ? If I was lucky, maybe I'd get to find out later tonight. Hey, can I ask you a question? His voice brought me back from my thoughts, lips nuzzling at my neck, and I could sense it he was gonna ask if I wanted to go home with him. Guys always asked me after the first dance. Mhmm, I answered, smirking at the looks of envy from the other girls. No no no, all you bitches can stare, but you can't have him. You're obviously not me. Well I was wondering... Yes? I prompted him, suddenly turning around so that my breasts pushed gently against his chest as I snaked my arms around his neck. He would've liked that. They all liked that. Why is it that you only agreed to dance with me now that I look like this? I froze at the question. What do you mean? It was his turn to stop now, and he took a step back from me. You humiliated me in front of your friends when I asked you to dance earlier. You know, the whole 'girls like me are too good for guys like you ' thing. Or did you already forget? His voice was icy cold now, the chill reflecting in his eyes that had turned from a warm ocean blue to a hard blue-steel color. I- well- that- that was you? My voice faltered for just a second before returning to it's usual tone whenever shit like this happened. Come on. You and I both know that girls like me don't go for guys like him- your former self or whatever the fuck he was. I do have standards, you know. But I mean, it's okay now, right? He took another step back from me as I took a step forward, raising his voice so that the people around could hear. Aren't you listening to yourself? You sound like a total bitch. No, you are a bitch, and you don't even realize it. His sharp laugh cut the air, and I was suddenly aware of the growing onlookers. He stepped close again and held me in a mock embrace, whispering, There's more to people than physical appeal. Find what that means, or you'll find yourself in the shoes of everyone you look down upon simply because they aren't as attractive as you are. He stepped back for the last time and walked away without even a simple goodbye, leaving me dumbstruck as the subject of gossip among the throng of people who witnessed the humiliation of my first, very open, rejection since maybe about my freshman year of high school. I turned away then, acting like what just happened didn't affect me. Fuck him anyway. 8 Months Later Victoria King lay with her stomach on the beach towel, soaking up the California sun that had just risen to it's full height at noon. Mild waves lapped at the white sand, the blue ocean reflected the clear blue of the skies above, and distantly someone was playing some pop song that sounded like Katy Perry. But for all the pleasantries of summer, the girl could only think of the scene in the club eight months ago that still felt as if it had just happened yesterday. Of course it didn't help that he had come to visit her last night, reminding her again of the curse he set upon her one year to fix her personality and find 'true love', otherwise her consequences included losing her own fantastic facial and bodily assets, and not being able to find love for the rest of her life. And he had come to remind her that she only had four months left to save herself. Whatever. She had been half-tempted to tell him to go shove the details up his ass, but she held that sharp tongue of hers only because deep down, she knew the curse was real. Already she could feel the subtle signs of her beauty leaving her- acne broke out more often than it did before, keeping weight off seemed to get a little bit harder over the course of the previous eight months, and her hair was losing shine little by little. They were small things that only she noticed, but they bothered her all the same. As she turned over on her back, a wolf-whistle from her left made her swivel her head in that direction, finding a group of guys around her age making obvious gestures about her body. One winked at her, another flashed her a grin, and another leaned over and whispered something, making them all snicker. Whatever attention they continued to give was lost on her she had already turned away, knowing that even if she reciprocated the signs of attraction, they wouldn't come over and talk to her. That was another part of the curse she could only attract men who cared more for subtance than looks. According to him , it was supposed to aid in fixing her own personality problems, but how was that possible when none of them would stay long enough for her to show them she was trying to be genuine? Sorry, you're just not my type. I'm sure you're a nice girl, Tori, but we don't really click. She knew that it really meant, Tori, you're a bitch, but all of them had been tactful enough not to say that. Only one of them had been straightforward about it. Tori, you're pretty, but I just prefer women with a bit more substance. No offense, but you're kind of... I don't know. Sorry. The worst part was that she could only say, I know, and let them go. It had gone on like that for eight months, and now here she was, sitting alone and getting uglier by what seemed to be like the goddamn minute. This all seemed to be like a twisted version of 'Beauty and the Beast,' except in her world, she happened to be Beauty who was turning into the Beast. What kind of sicko would make that happen? Oh, right. Dual-personality men who thought it was funny to give a girl an ultimatum. It's not like all she cared for was how a guy looked... She appreciated intelligence... Humor... Sex... But admittedly, all of that was dependent on how she felt about his face. Internally, she cringed. It was easy now to see her faults, but it was hard to correct them. Having a deadline made things even harder, and having a large consequence for not meeting that deadline only doubled the difficulty. Her failures only succeeded in making her more bitter toward men, but she couldn't help it. Maybe that's why Beast always seemed so angry with the world, because he was alone without a chick to love him. Tori sighed and sat up on her towel, putting her arms behind her to slightly lean back, and she closed her eyes. God, at some points she just wished she could pick a guy and tell him to love her, but unfortunately that wasn't how it worked. She didn't own a castle that she could trap dudes in, and she didn't have enchanted singing pots or candle sticks that sang about how awesome she was. With only four months left on the clock, it occurred to her that it may be useful to just throw everything out the window and opt for desperation, but... Nah. She liked to think she wasn't that pathetic.