Alessa’s Story I

Alessandra left home at a young age. There was no abuse, but she was too headstrong for home life. Parents telling her what to do. She hitchhiked which she knew was crazy, but she did it thinking she would only get in a decent car.

As if that made a difference. But for her, it did make a difference. The first expensive car she saw, she got in. The driver was hot. A young arrogant artist, who asked her if she wanted to go to Italy with him.

She did.

Their relationship was insane.

“But it was his sister Xtina that I was in love with. She was beautiful and also an artist. I slept with them both for a long time, but then my art got serious and I moved on.”

Eliza stared at Alessa like she had never met her before. Alessa had told her a lot about her life before. About the Botticelli’s Venus-like start of her career. But the before–her parents, who were both dead, she never really talked about.

“I was adopted,” Alessa told Eliza when she asked her. “Not officially. It was my mother’s sister who had me and then she disappeared. My mother always said I was headstrong like her sister. Said I was going to either be something amazing or absolutely nothing.”

Eliza wrapped her arms around Alessa, she looked beautiful but troubled. Maybe that was always the look that she had? No one ever felt like they could have a handle on her.

Alessa looked at her with a soft smile,

“Any more stories I can tell you to put you to sleep?” 

Eliza pressed her body to Alessa’s under the sheets.

“There is nothing boring about you my love.”

Alessa kissed her. The kiss was nothing about sex or lovemaking. It was a thank you. Eliza had been friends with Alessa for a long time, but being lovers deepened their relationship and she felt like they had their own language.

 

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One comment

  1. Oh it’s great to have some background on Alessa! And I love the picture you painted here of hitchhiking, and then living an exciting life in Italy 🙂
    ~ Marie xox

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