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Post by GRAZIA CAPRICE DE LUCA on Nov 21, 2010 21:10:43 GMT -5
 
Considering the ball was raising money for the hospital she was a nurse at, Grazia was more than happy to trade in her scrubs for a gown that hugged all of her curves that she'd earned more of post-baby, and support the cause. Around her, in the room that had been impeccably decorated, were many posh-looking women with expensive designer label gowns and the same pair of Jimmy Choos and they hung effortlessly off the arms of tuxedo-clad men like they were walking accessories.
Sometimes, Grazia thought she should aspire to be more like those women, but she worried that she didn't. There was always a fear in the back of her mind that her husband would rather she act like one of those mail-order mannequins, all carbon copies of one another, or that no matter how many layers of mascara she swiped over her blue eyes or how many times she threw up her hair, that she would always look like a hardened baker's daughter from Brooklyn. It didn't help that she was four and a half weeks pregnant. It wasn't that she was showing, but the knowledge made her feel ten times as emotional as she already always was.
As she let out an exasperated sigh from her lips painted a ripe strawberry color, she stared off at her husband across the room, looking incredibly grown up for once without losing his natural devil-may-care charm that had made her fall for him in the first place. Sure, he was 'the other guy' when they met, but they were young, they were feverish, and he was a rock star. Grazia would not have changed a single line to their story thus far. It had been a while since it had been just the two of them and in an adult setting, at that, and Grazia was eager to finish her phone conversation with their babysitter so she could head over to him again, proudly show him off as 'her's'.
“No, eight-thirty is her bedtime on weekends.” Grazia's unimpressed blue eyes iced over the clock that she could see only out of her peripheral vision. Apparently, Isabella was under the impression that she could stay up later or that was the idea she was trying to sell to her sitter. “It's fine, Amanda, I'm not upset.” Grazia assured the worried voice on the other line. She really wasn't, Amanda was a sweet girl, barely thirteen, and Grazia completely understood that she was just trying to please everyone involved. “You didn't interrupt. If she knows I said so, then she won't argue anymore.” That was the truth. Grazia had no choice, but to be the disciplinary of the family. “Thank you. We'll see you around midnight.” Finally, Grazia hung up, tucking her phone back into her satin black clutch and made a beeline straight for her husband, lifting up the side of her dress off her hip with one hand as her heels click-clacked against the floor.
“That was Amanda. According to Isabella, you said she could go to bed at ten tonight?” Wearing a devious little smirk, Grazia asked Marco with her eyebrows raised into her hairline as she brushed her shoulder against his.
[/size] been a long cold 538 words. lonely winter unfinished. feels like years marco. since its been clear outfit. slowly melting notes?. its alright REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0 [/color].[/blockquote][/size] [/center] |
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Post by MARCO ANDRE DE LUCA on Nov 23, 2010 21:39:43 GMT -5
There was no way Marco would have preferred his wife to be more like those docile beauties. Sure, they were attractive, but so was his wife. In fact Marco was convinced that Grazia was the most beautiful woman in the room. More than that though, what he loved about his wife was her fiery nature. Someone so meek and soft spoken with Marco just would not work. He needed a woman who could match his passion. Which, was sort of a nice way to say he needed a woman who could hold her own against him in screaming matches that would inevitably happen. Grazie was exactly that. She wouldn’t just sit back and take Marc’s hot-headed temperament. She let him know when she felt like he needed to pull his head in. Which was a lot of the time. The De Luca house was often the scene of a fight, but they usually always ended with happiness. They had a rule- not to go to bed angry at each other. It wasn’t always easy on them, but they tried.
Watching his wife across the room, Marco smiled gently. She looked stunning tonight, she really did. When she’d come out of the bedroom back at him, it had literally taken his breath away. She looked more beautiful these days, he thought, then when they had first met. When he had looked at her then, he had felt lust, passion, desire. Now when he looked at her, he saw all that, and so much more. He saw family, his daughter, their lives together.. While he was still basically a child, he loved his own child and the life he was making with Grazie. Sure, he spent more of his time being a pal to Isabella than he did disciplining her, but his wife had all that under control. Besides, their daughter loved him. It was such an amazing feeling for Marco, hearing Isabella cackle with laughter and know he was the one making her so happy.
Marco tilted his head to the side. Grazia was glowing. Which added even more to her beauty. She must have done something to her skin. Exfoliated or used a lotion or whatever it was women did. Making a mental note to tell the woman how beautiful her skin was, Macro turned from her. She worried too much about Isabella. It was their night, she should just let the sitter handle it. It wasn’t often his wife got time to relax, so Marco was going to make sure she did tonight. First, with some champagne. Moving to the open bar, Marco ordered himself and his wife a glass of champagne- the kind he knew she liked. However, before he could collect the glasses and surprise his wife with one, the man felt her at his shoulder.
O-oh... Busted. Isabella had been sad that they were going out, so of course he had tried to make her happy by saying she could stay up late. He knew his wife would not approve though. Pulling a sheepish grin to his features, he turned to look at the beautiful woman. “It wasn’t me?”
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Post by GRAZIA CAPRICE DE LUCA on Nov 26, 2010 2:30:52 GMT -5
“No?” Raising a single brow, perfectly arched over her blue eye, Grazia feigned humble surprise with the smallest of smirks creeping onto her face. “You're right. It must have been my other husband.” She toyed as she slipped a hand on his back and pressed herself closer to him, smelling his fragrance. Marco had a way of always smelling delicious and it drove Grazia wild, it always had.
When they were younger, his fumes were messier, often greasy and sweaty from performing with his heart and soul, but at the time, it appealed and it used to make her blood boil that she couldn't pounce him in public considering she was involved with Calvin, the drummer, at the time, and then as time went by, he began to smell more of a musky aroma to her, more manly, and not so much the little boy, and even now, after all this time she still very much wanted him.
They weren't perfect, and sometimes that was the hardest thing for Grazia, accepting his flaws, but at the end of the day, all the worst things about Marco were better than the best things about anyone else. She wouldn't trade all his bad habits in for every inch of Brad Pitt's impeccable body.
The side of Grazia's chin rested faintly on his shoulder as her eyes glanced around the room, locking with one or two people she recognized, before they circled and spotted the bar the couple was perched in front of him. She hadn't noticed before, but her first thought was only about how much she would love a drink, pregnancy was her after thought that caused her to stand up straight and take a step away from her husband.
“Are you getting a drink?” She asked, trying to sound as if she was asking casually. “I don't think I'll drink tonight.” Smiling, she nodded very simply. Now wasn't the place to tell him, was it? They hadn't discussed having another baby in such a long while, she didn't want him to pass out. There were doctors at the benefit, and she herself was a nurse, but Grazia still tried to avoid making people fall unconcious as often as possible.
On top of it, Marco could have such a hot temper sometimes. Grazia really didn't want him to cause a scene.
[/size] been a long cold 425 words. lonely winter unfinished. feels like years marco. since its been clear outfit. slowly melting notes?. its alright REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0 [/color].[/blockquote][/size] [/center] |
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Post by MARCO ANDRE DE LUCA on Nov 26, 2010 8:53:37 GMT -5
Marco felt his patterned ‘you can’t hate me because I’m an adorable puppy’ lopsided smile tug at his lips. When it wasn’t something such a big deal that he needed to get angry, this was his default reaction. And it worked a charm, most of the time anyway. At least tonight he had hopes that it would work. His wife didn’t seem too upset, which was a good sign. That, or she was saving it up ‘till they got home. Oh well, he’d take what he could get. As long as they weren’t having a screaming match in public. “Ah yes.” He agreed, turning to smile even more at the beauty. “You’re less attractive husband. Because the roguishly hansom one who thinks you are the most gorgeous woman in the room wouldn’t do a thing like that.” It was amazing, the things he could get out of with some flattery. Or well, the things he thought he could get away with. It didn’t always go his way.
Pulling the woman towards him, Marco pressed his lips to the soft skin behind her ear, kissing gently. While his hands cradled her back. “You are, you know...” he whispered into her ear, as he swayed her gently to the music. “The most amazingly gorgeous woman here.” That was less of flattery to get him out of trouble, and more a husband just wanting to make his wife feel special. That, and the fact that he really did think she was the most amazing woman in the room. Then he was bias, so who could exactly trust his judgement? Sure, he could agree that other woman were attractive, but no one had that... something special that had kept him coming back when they had first met. Even when he shouldn’t have wanted her.
Frowning slightly, Marco looked up to cancel his silent champagne order. Stepping away from the bar, he took Grazie with him. One arm still around her middle. “I was thinking about it, yeah. Why don’t you want anything?” He raised his eyebrow, worry etched into his dark features. “Are you not feeling well? Need to sit down? Maybe we should just go home..” He wasn’t sure why he was so worried really. It was just that for some strange reason her refusal to drink was striking him as rather ominous. He hoped everything was okay. This was supposed to be their night out. He wanted his wife to enjoy herself.
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Post by GRAZIA CAPRICE DE LUCA on Nov 29, 2010 18:30:48 GMT -5
“That’s the one.” Smirking, Grazia nodded. On the inside, though, she melted. It was absolutely shocking to her that after all this time she wasn’t totally immune to Marco’s charm, but charisma seemed to ooze naturally out of his pores. “You know, he makes up for his looks with his skills in the bedroom.” She winked, playfully. Spitballing was one of her favourite things to do with Marco.
At first, when he had mentioned it, she just took it with a grain of salt and assumed that Marco was just using his sweet-talk, thinking she was actually upset about him letting their daughter stay up, but when he pulled her closer and spoke right into her ear, feeling his lips vibrate against her skin with every word, she believed that he really thought so and it was his perception of her that made Grazia feel as if she was the most gorgeous woman in the room. It was open to interpretation, but if Marco thought so, she didn’t care about the real verdict at all.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Politely, Grazia told her husband with a smile, leaning her neck into him and replied, her voice low and almost dark. She locked her blue eyes up into his dark and very Italian eyes and allowed herself to get lost for a moment.
Grazia laughed at how many questions Marco asked all at once. All she had said was that she wasn’t going to drink that evening. Maybe, he had caught on to her. It really wasn’t her style to turn down a drink. Did he know she was pregnant? How? Grazia always thought her sneakiness was one of her strengths, was she losing her touch?
“You don’t have to cancel it,” Piping up, she shook her head at him. “You can drink,” Grazia told him what he was probably already well aware of. She was his wife, not his mother after all. “I just don’t want to. I feel fine, but you know, I’m on a health kick.” It was a lie. She had eaten her daughter’s snack pack cookies for breakfast, the healthiest thing Grazia had done all day was brush her teeth, but the excuse suited the moment and she didn’t want to tell him so casually that they were expecting again. “I’ll drink vicariously through you, Marco.” Grazia finished with a simple smile.
[/size] been a long cold 395 words. lonely winter unfinished. feels like years marco. since its been clear outfit. slowly melting notes?. its alright REAL SLIM SHADY !? @ caution 2.0 [/color].[/blockquote][/size] [/center]
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