Allure

ELAINE

Dante's apartment is overwhelming compared to my more modest one.

As soon as he opens the front door, I'm greeted by blue light filling the space through the floor to ceiling windows of the living room. The sitting area is straight across from the entrance, decorated with comfortable looking sofas and a tall electric fireplace. A large, open kitchen lies on my left. Between the kitchen and living room spaces, a hallway containing three closed doors is revealed. A door to my right is opened to a small, half bathroom.

"Wow," I breathe, taking in the view of the city lights through the massive window in front of me, "your apartment is beautiful."

I look to find Dante's face. He's smiling down at me, but his expression is laced with some emotion I can't read. "Thank you. It has the best view in London," he brags.

I don't know how to respond to that. It's true, though. This is by far the prettiest angle of the city. I walk over to the window and look out in admiration. The floor of his apartment towers over most of the surrounding buildings. Below, I see lines of cars zipping down the city streets. Pedestrians walking down the sidewalks look like tiny specks of dust from here.

"Would you like something to drink?" Dante asks from behind me.

I don't feel like drinking anything. My stomach is growling, but I don't feel like eating anything, either. I just want to lie down and cry. I reply, "I'm okay. Thank you, though."

There is some clamoring behind me. I turn to find Dante rifling through his refrigerator. He pours water from a filtering container and brings the glass over to me. "Nonsense, Elaine. You should hydrate," he says. He holds the glass of water out to me.

The gesture is actually really sweet. I take it from him and offer him a nod of thanks before taking a drink. He's right. The water does wonders to soothe my dry mouth and burning throat. I finish the glass with a few large gulps.

Dante smiles softly. "See? You feel better now, no?"

I nod at him and confess, "Yes."

"You cannot forget to take care of yourself during this time. You are only given one body in this life. You must treat it well."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes at his lecturing. He's so much nicer than I thought him to be. Like maybe there really is a soft heart behind his hard exterior.

Dante takes the empty glass from me. "Come. I will show you to my shower," he orders gently. I follow him in silence down the quiet hallway of his apartment. He pushes against one of the doors, and it opens to a large master bedroom. A mahogany four poster, king sized bed is positioned against the center of the wall. A dark colored, tufted comforter sits on top of it. Two side tables of matching mahogany rest on either side of the bed. The walls are painted a dark grey, almost black, yet the furniture does not clash with them. Like each and every shade in this color palette was hand selected by experts to ensure a cohesive image of luxury.

Dante opens another door, which is attached to his bedroom. The door leads to an impressive bathroom suite. A porcelain standalone tub sits under a small window. Beside it, glass walls encase a stand up shower with two waterfall shower heads build into the ceiling next to each other. The tile in the shower is a dark matte grey - a perfect shade against the black walls around us. The darkness of the bathroom's color scheme makes the suite feel royal and powerful.

I glance again at the two person shower. I wonder how many women Dante has showered with in here. I don't know why I feel jealous at the thought. He and I are only barely acquaintances. He is free to do as we wishes, as am I. We owe each other nothing. Still, the idea bothers me.