Youre awesome, so here's a dedication! Thank you :)

Ah. The bitch really knew how to use her nails. My face felt like it was fucking on fire. What was she? A psychopathic sadist in hiding?

Fuck, man. Chantelle. I mean, yes, I did marry another chick. But what the actual fuck. She didn't have to tear out my face with those killer nails of hers.

I did say sorry, right?

It felt weird pushing her away as she tried kissing me. Nobody in their actual mind would say no to Chantelle.

I just couldn't sleep with a woman knowing another was at home. Sure, we were as good as unmarried, but I didn't want to be that cheating dick.

Truth be told, I was crazy for Chantelle's body. She had a glorious one and knew how to use it. The first time we slept together, I almost asked her who had trained her.

She was that amazing.

I now felt angry and restless. This was actually the first time Chantelle and I met and we actually didn't tear each other's clothes apart.

This time, she tore apart my face.

It was a long walk of shame as my security guard gave me the eye.

I have on multiple occasions turned up with torn shirts, lipstick stained clothes, bed heads, and once, shirtless.

Sadly, a combination of a hot body and sound mind were rare and that particular girl had thought it extremely kinky to throw my shirt out the window.

She was kinda right.

As I stood inside the elevator, I contemplated what I should do to my face so that my employees don't get any ideas.

I didn't even know any shit about first aid and cleaning wounds and all. Shit.

I walked into my house, wincing with pain as I removed my suit. I was about to take off my pant in the living room, when I looked up.

Oh right. I probably shouldn't strip before my wife. But then, I probably should. But no. Not for her.

In all honesty, I forgot she was in my house. We rarely talked. I seriously couldn't handle all her sass.

There was a random moment when I wondered what it would be like if she loved me. Just, what would she do now?

Well, she doesn't love me and neither do I love her. There was simply the inconvenient Truth that we were married.

She'd better not fucking ask me what happened to my face.

She was looking at me with a weird expression. An expression that translated to 'What the fuck, dawg?'

This is weird to admit, but that expression looks like one a rapper in a music video speaking about his hoe's cheating ways, would wear.

I have No fucking idea why that is so.

She walked into the kitchen and came back with a box. I was scratching my face, when she, without warning, slapped my hand away.

What does she even want? Pure confusion prompted me to comply to her. I sat down.

She opened that box of hers and pulled out some tube and a piece of cotton.

She leaned closer to me and there was a moment when I stared at her lips. Just one moment.

I saw her up close for the first time, as she cleaned the cut on my face. Every feature fit together perfectly.

I took in her delicate lips, tiny nose and her nose ring. Her olive skin shone,but it was her eyes that held me captive.

I could only stare at her stunning eyes for a few seconds, before I had to look away. The warmth and sparkle in them were extremely attractive.

Okay. I'm losing it. Attractive?

I was waiting for her nosy questions.

Where were you?

Who did this to you?

Were you with a woman?

If she were to come up with some shitty dialogue like "I can smell it off you", I swear I would shoot her dead. Infact, If she were to bother with even a single one of them, I would tell her to fuck off.

If I were to tell her that Chantelle, my French girlfriend did not take the fact that I had gone off and married without so much as telling her , then I'd be screwed over.

She would run to my mom and bitch and cry about me and my cheating ways, and we would have a regular soap in front of us .

To hell with all this shit. I was tired.

Her concentration as she cleaned with scientific precision was pretty darn amusing.

She suddenly held out her hand. Did she want to hold onto my hand and show me how our heartbeats were in sync?

I was amused by the very thought.

It was almost as if she was thinking the same thing, for she rolled her eyes theatrically before grabbing my hand roughly. She started cleaning the scratch marks on my hand.

Oh. That.

After she was done, she came up with a dialogue that took her from negative points for being a pain in the ass Indian chick to whom I was incidentally married to some level of awesomeness.

"Don't worry. I'm not gonna ask you which feline inflicted this on you".

I could only smirk.

Seriously, I can't go on updating if nobody takes a moment to star, comment or follow.

Please do, or I'll have to stop posting :(

I'm casting Tom Courtenay Clack as Vidyut okay?

Love always,
LD.