Page 59
Story: The Love of Priest 2
"You like it?" He raised a brow at her.
Britain's smile widened as she nodded her head. "Yeah, I do. It's a lot less conservative than what I thought my engagementring would be, but I love it. You did great, P." She craned down, applying her plump lips to his.
"‘Preciate it,Gioia." He suavely smirked at her before pecking her lips once more.
With all the chaos going on, they hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to each other. To distract her from the trauma she would soon have to confront, she had plunged into the overwhelming task of packing up her apartment for their move to Italy. Priest, on the other hand, was busy handling the logistics of this across the world move. He had a lot on his plate, especially with the added pressure to remain under the radar with the public believing he was dead.
Having Priest close to her at the moment gave her a sense of relief. She had been battling the pessimistic thoughts of almost losing him a few days ago. The media had been setting the streets ablaze with his death, and it was preventing her from coping how she wanted to. Every television channel she surfed was airing the details of Priest's alleged death, and the internet was just the same. Britain had tons of questions about how Priest was planning to pull this off, yet she refrained from asking them. He seemed to be flustered by everything that was going on, so she didn't want to stress him out more with her concerns.
His fingertips traced the outline of the deep plunging dimples on the small of her back. Her shoulders were alleviated of all the tension she had been carrying around for the past few days. An amused chuckled drifted from Priest as she gently rested her head on his shoulder. He turned his head a bit, sitting a light kiss on her cheek. "You wanna talk about it?" he throated out, already knowing something was bothering her.
She simply shook her head in response. Moving to Italy was one of the biggest risks she had ever taken in her life. She was afraid that if she and Priest talked about it, it would just turn into her opening a can of worms for their relationship. Britainfelt like Italy was just something she had to do without over-calculating it and questioning herself. If she psyched herself out, she was sure she would stay in New York.
"Okay. Let's talk about something else," he suggested.
"Our wedding," Britain murmured, hoping she could steer him away from the tense and cold conversations he wanted to have.
Priest let out another amused chuckle as he shook his head. "No, Brit. I feel like we need to address the elephant in the room," he told her with a bit more seriousness.
Whenever anything harsh or traumatic happened to Britain, her mind immediately transitioned into fight or flight. The majority of the time, she suited herself up for flight and completely stored the tragic events far in the back of her mind. She was the queen of what she calledhovering, but now that Priest was involved, he didn't feel right allowing her to do that.
"An elephant wouldn't be able to fit in this small-ass apartment," she laughed, completely disregarding Priest's seriousness.
Priest sighed as he lifted her head from his shoulders. His dark orbs seared into her soft brown eyes. He could sense the sadness she was trying to mask with a smile. She had the same look in her eye when she arrived at the trial when Priest expected her not to. "Let's be serious for a minute," Priest requested.
A deep sigh drifted out of Britain as her shoulders slouched. She wasn't sure how she could tell him that the deeper the conversation got, the more she would be consumed by fear and turn away from the idea of moving to Italy. If he wanted things to go as planned, it was really in his best interest to just allow her to hover.
"Priest, I don't think this is the time to talk about it," she attempted to dismiss the much-needed conversation. "I stillhave to pack, and you need to figure out how we're getting to the ramp without you being spotted."
"All that stuff can wait. I need to be sure you're okay and we're on the same page," he said.
"P, we're fine," Britain asserted with a light smile on her face.
Priest shot her an unconvinced look as he shook his head. "Don't lie to me, Brit. We don't do that to each other."
Figuring that Priest would just continue to pressure her for a conversation, Britain brushed his strong hands from around her waist and rose from his lap. She stood up, returning to the stacks of boxes she still needed to pack and label.
He leaned up from the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, eyeing her as she picked up one of the framed photos she had collected from all the walls of the apartment. The photo happened to be of the both of them during a helicopter ride over the city. In the picture, they were both wearing the massive headphones given to them when boarding the helicopter. Britain rested her head on his shoulder as she snapped a photo of them, all smiles.
There was no doubt that Priest was the one she loved and was destined to be with. He brought her so much happiness without the toxicity she was used to from her past dealings. He built her up to her highest power and never made her feel any less. She didn't want to let a move to Italy take that feeling of the utmost love and happiness away from her, but she was terrified of what their new life may come with.
Britain let out a light sigh before wrapping the picture in bubble wrap and sitting it in the opened box. She ignored Priest's dark and hollow eyes as they seared into her and continued her process of packing the pictures. Whenever she got to a picture of her and Priest, she would just stop and stare at it, reminiscing on the moment the photo was captured. "Awe,remember this?" she asked as she handed the picture over to him.
A smile graced Priest's face as he gazed at the picture. "That was the night we said I love you to each other," he recalled. Priest felt a calmness wash over him. In the picture, his tall stature stood behind her. He had his lips pressed against her cheek as she showcased her full smile. They were both walking on Cloud 9 after they professed their love for each other. That night, they went back to Britain's apartment and tore each other's clothes off. Looking back only made them laugh at how much they had each other head over heels.
"That was a wild night," Britain joked, causing Priest to agree.
He stood up from the couch to assist her with wrapping the photos in bubble wrap and placing them in the nearby boxes. "P, I have this handled. Just go rest or something," she assured him, not wanting him to strain his injuries by helping her pack.
Priest scoffed a bit. "If you don't want to talk, you don't have to. I'll talk, and you can just listen," he suggested as he grabbed another picture from the stack to bubble wrap it.
"Priest—"
"Brit, just listen.”
Britain eyed him briefly before nodding her head. "I know you’re scared—" he began but was quickly interrupted.
"I'm not scared. I'm apprehensive," she corrected him.
Britain's smile widened as she nodded her head. "Yeah, I do. It's a lot less conservative than what I thought my engagementring would be, but I love it. You did great, P." She craned down, applying her plump lips to his.
"‘Preciate it,Gioia." He suavely smirked at her before pecking her lips once more.
With all the chaos going on, they hadn't gotten much of a chance to talk to each other. To distract her from the trauma she would soon have to confront, she had plunged into the overwhelming task of packing up her apartment for their move to Italy. Priest, on the other hand, was busy handling the logistics of this across the world move. He had a lot on his plate, especially with the added pressure to remain under the radar with the public believing he was dead.
Having Priest close to her at the moment gave her a sense of relief. She had been battling the pessimistic thoughts of almost losing him a few days ago. The media had been setting the streets ablaze with his death, and it was preventing her from coping how she wanted to. Every television channel she surfed was airing the details of Priest's alleged death, and the internet was just the same. Britain had tons of questions about how Priest was planning to pull this off, yet she refrained from asking them. He seemed to be flustered by everything that was going on, so she didn't want to stress him out more with her concerns.
His fingertips traced the outline of the deep plunging dimples on the small of her back. Her shoulders were alleviated of all the tension she had been carrying around for the past few days. An amused chuckled drifted from Priest as she gently rested her head on his shoulder. He turned his head a bit, sitting a light kiss on her cheek. "You wanna talk about it?" he throated out, already knowing something was bothering her.
She simply shook her head in response. Moving to Italy was one of the biggest risks she had ever taken in her life. She was afraid that if she and Priest talked about it, it would just turn into her opening a can of worms for their relationship. Britainfelt like Italy was just something she had to do without over-calculating it and questioning herself. If she psyched herself out, she was sure she would stay in New York.
"Okay. Let's talk about something else," he suggested.
"Our wedding," Britain murmured, hoping she could steer him away from the tense and cold conversations he wanted to have.
Priest let out another amused chuckle as he shook his head. "No, Brit. I feel like we need to address the elephant in the room," he told her with a bit more seriousness.
Whenever anything harsh or traumatic happened to Britain, her mind immediately transitioned into fight or flight. The majority of the time, she suited herself up for flight and completely stored the tragic events far in the back of her mind. She was the queen of what she calledhovering, but now that Priest was involved, he didn't feel right allowing her to do that.
"An elephant wouldn't be able to fit in this small-ass apartment," she laughed, completely disregarding Priest's seriousness.
Priest sighed as he lifted her head from his shoulders. His dark orbs seared into her soft brown eyes. He could sense the sadness she was trying to mask with a smile. She had the same look in her eye when she arrived at the trial when Priest expected her not to. "Let's be serious for a minute," Priest requested.
A deep sigh drifted out of Britain as her shoulders slouched. She wasn't sure how she could tell him that the deeper the conversation got, the more she would be consumed by fear and turn away from the idea of moving to Italy. If he wanted things to go as planned, it was really in his best interest to just allow her to hover.
"Priest, I don't think this is the time to talk about it," she attempted to dismiss the much-needed conversation. "I stillhave to pack, and you need to figure out how we're getting to the ramp without you being spotted."
"All that stuff can wait. I need to be sure you're okay and we're on the same page," he said.
"P, we're fine," Britain asserted with a light smile on her face.
Priest shot her an unconvinced look as he shook his head. "Don't lie to me, Brit. We don't do that to each other."
Figuring that Priest would just continue to pressure her for a conversation, Britain brushed his strong hands from around her waist and rose from his lap. She stood up, returning to the stacks of boxes she still needed to pack and label.
He leaned up from the couch, resting his elbows on his knees, eyeing her as she picked up one of the framed photos she had collected from all the walls of the apartment. The photo happened to be of the both of them during a helicopter ride over the city. In the picture, they were both wearing the massive headphones given to them when boarding the helicopter. Britain rested her head on his shoulder as she snapped a photo of them, all smiles.
There was no doubt that Priest was the one she loved and was destined to be with. He brought her so much happiness without the toxicity she was used to from her past dealings. He built her up to her highest power and never made her feel any less. She didn't want to let a move to Italy take that feeling of the utmost love and happiness away from her, but she was terrified of what their new life may come with.
Britain let out a light sigh before wrapping the picture in bubble wrap and sitting it in the opened box. She ignored Priest's dark and hollow eyes as they seared into her and continued her process of packing the pictures. Whenever she got to a picture of her and Priest, she would just stop and stare at it, reminiscing on the moment the photo was captured. "Awe,remember this?" she asked as she handed the picture over to him.
A smile graced Priest's face as he gazed at the picture. "That was the night we said I love you to each other," he recalled. Priest felt a calmness wash over him. In the picture, his tall stature stood behind her. He had his lips pressed against her cheek as she showcased her full smile. They were both walking on Cloud 9 after they professed their love for each other. That night, they went back to Britain's apartment and tore each other's clothes off. Looking back only made them laugh at how much they had each other head over heels.
"That was a wild night," Britain joked, causing Priest to agree.
He stood up from the couch to assist her with wrapping the photos in bubble wrap and placing them in the nearby boxes. "P, I have this handled. Just go rest or something," she assured him, not wanting him to strain his injuries by helping her pack.
Priest scoffed a bit. "If you don't want to talk, you don't have to. I'll talk, and you can just listen," he suggested as he grabbed another picture from the stack to bubble wrap it.
"Priest—"
"Brit, just listen.”
Britain eyed him briefly before nodding her head. "I know you’re scared—" he began but was quickly interrupted.
"I'm not scared. I'm apprehensive," she corrected him.
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