Note: The flashback in this chapter gets a little…wrong. Nothing too bad, but I don't recommend it for people who are easily disturbed.
Certain women are like butterflies….just as beautiful up close as when observed from a distance, and if you don't catch them and pin them down at exactly the right moment, they fly away and never come back.
Olaf took another swig from the wine bottle in his hand and smirked.
Damn, my thoughts are poetic. I should totally write this down.
And it was true, too. He had waited so long for the perfect moment- he'd been through so many failed relationships that it just wasn't funny. But now he had his elusive butterfly- he'd found his opportunity and grabbed it, and now Violet was his.
Don't get so proud of yourself just yet. Remember what happened last time?
"Don't remind me." Olaf said.
The voice in his head was right- there had been another butterfly-er-woman in his life at one point. He could still remember her face- her wild, sun-golden hair, pulled back into a ponytail with pencils stuck through the elastic, her almond-shaped brown eyes. She was allot like Violet, Olaf figured: Witty, resourceful, with a wild spirit that could never be tamed. In fact, she was EXACTLY like Violet- with one crucial difference- she had loved him. For all Olaf could tell, Violet hated him, and with good reason too. Olaf gave the large ornate bird cage in the corner a guilty look, remembering what he had used it for on one occasion.
Don't be so hard on yourself, Olaf. Violet loves you. She just doesn't know it yet.
Olaf snorted. Yeah, right. Reality check: she'd rather commit suicide than live with me.
But Violet was definitely worth it. He could tell. And who knows, maybe she was just playing hard to get…or something like that.
After all, how could he forget that night?
Olaf locked the door to the bedroom behind him, took off the coat of his wedding tuxedo and threw it into the corner.
"So…I guess you're going to kill me now?" Violet asked, her voice slightly shaking.
Olaf laughed, a sound that made a chill go up Violet's spine.
"My dear Contessa," Olaf said, grinning as the word crossed his lips- he'd been dying to call her that for ages. "Why would I kill you? That'd be like…" He paused to search for the right analogy. "…Like drilling a hole through the canvas of a priceless renaissance masterpiece."
Violet's face conveyed a look of fearful confusion.
"What are you talking about?" She asked.
"Why, you of course." Olaf said, drawing closer to his young bride and smiling wickedly. "And how ravishing you look in the moonlight."
It was true- she was gorgeous. Her fair skin practically sparkled in the moonlight, just like her sapphire-blue eyes. Her gorgeous, gemstone eyes… She was taller and more…mature looking than most girls her age. That was probably the reason he found himself attracted to her.
And it was undeniable that he was attracted to her.
Olaf reached out and put one arm around Violet's waist.
"Oh, I get what this is." Violet snapped unexpectedly. She pushed Olaf's arm away angrily and stepped backwards, further away from him. "Did you think it was going to be that easy?" fear undertoned the anger in her voice. "I'm not stupid, Olaf. It's not like I was just going to let you…"
Before she could finish, Olaf cut her off. He grabbed the back of her head, pulled her close to him and kissed her. As their lips locked together, he could feel Violet's face heat up. Wether it was from shock, anger or something else he was unsure, but he liked the feel of it.
Once he broke the kiss, Violet stared at him, her mouth open and eyes wide with a mixture of shock and confusion. She looked like she was about to say something, but couldn't find the right words.
"You'll catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that." He said, smiling and clicking his tongue playfully. He extended his hand and gently pushed her jaws shut. Her skin was smooth and warm against his fingertips-perfect.
He put his arms around her again, this time pulling her in close so she couldn't get away, and reached for the zipper on the back of the white and blue wedding dress she was wearing, slowly pulling it down and sliding the dress off of her arms.
"You can't do this to me!" Violet said hotly, still as fiery as ever, even now. Olaf grinned. He liked that about her. "There have got to be laws against this sort of thing!"
Olaf laughed again.
"Oh, Violet." He sighed "Violet, Violet, Violet. We're married now, okay?" He ran his fingers through her waves of dark brown hair, twirling a lock around his finger. "Anything that happens in this room tonight is totally and completely…" He paused and drew in close to bring a dramatic emphasis on the word "…Legal."
Olaf smiled. He remembered that night, all right. He remembered how she had screamed and tried to get away, her soft, warm flesh pressed against his, how she had tried to resist crying, but eventually had let a few tears slide down her cheeks, smearing the makeup she had been wearing, and how she had finally succumbed- realising that there was no point in fighting it anymore.
She was his. And there was no escape.