What I think of you.
Authors note
: This story is meant to eventually transition into rather extreme themes of male-domination and brainwashing, with potential themes of cruelty and outright sadism, if that's not your thing, that's more than fair enough, but I'd recommend you read something else. Beyond that, it's my first thing, so apologies if it's more-so abstract art, than a comprehensible story.
Alex had lusted after Olivia for as long as he could remember, and he had stayed as close as possible to her to try and one day get a chance to act upon that lust, that longing.
A long-time friend to Alex, and a striking beauty, at that, Olivia had long, golden hair, a tanned complexion and a smile which had a bewitching property to it, Alex had known her for years, and for years, had somewhat unsuccessfully tried to ferment a romantic connection to her, to no avail.
Every day, Alex, Olivia, and a number of other women met up at a university study circle, and for hours and hours, they'd often fail to study, amusing each other with jokes, banter and general life stories, all things considered it was terribly unproductive, but as far as Alex was concerned, it made life worth living... and resulted in grades that made life seem rather when he stopped to think about them.
He wasn't quite sure how he ended up in the circle, most likely Olivia invited him, but honestly, the circle seemed Moreso like something formed by the laws of nature, then any specific individual, a collection of eccentric girls, and one guy, who, overall, on the whole, was just happy to be there. The other members recounted in Alex's mind could be summarised as "the rich duchess, the know-it-all, the prude, the normal, and the fucking weirdo." Despite his cruel internal nicknames, he would consider each a friend, whom he trusted with at most, a moderate sum of money, and for the record, he wasn't the one who came up with most of these, Half of these were joking self-referential monikers, and other half were jokes from "the fucking weirdo".
Today, Alex headed to the circle, to be met with an unusual circumstance. Everybody, bar Rachel, the rich duchess, was either sick, or otherwise indisposed. Rachel had a habit of bringing food, and drink to the table, as the only person there who never had to give a thought to money, however, Alex had to admit he wasn't especially close to Rachel, and had never spoken to her much, if ever. So, he expected today to be somewhat awkward, as it turns out, he may yet be a prophet.
"Hey, Rache" Alex spoke, somewhat nervously, but still using a nickname, to try and seem aloof. Alex was many things, and in this instance, he was whatever the opposite of a casual conversationalist was. Struggling to think of topics to speak of, he began stating questions he already knew the answers to.
"Olivia coming today, or she who knows all?"
Rachel, for the most part, seemed somewhat uncertain as to her ability to speak, and curtly responded, "Olvia's busy, and Alice is quite ill, as of yesterday."
"Cool, cool... you still doing piano lessons?"
Rachel seemed to be averting her eyes from Alex and responded. "I finished up my lessons a while ago." Seeming a bit unsteady, she returned a question, "has... have you and Olivia been up to anything?" Rachels eyes maintaining a notable degree of focus as she awaited an answer. She had been waiting for this day for ages, but now she was here, a certain level of discomfort and fear overwhelmed her.
"Uh, nothing much, we watched that movie about the bear on drugs the other day, we had a great time, just... like, talking about the movie and shit, y'know?".
Alex wasn't quite sure how to read the expression that crossed Rachel's face, as she seemed to become lost in thought for a while. In absence of other interesting things to look at in the plain white study rooms of the university, he found himself studying Rachel, like Olivia, she had golden blonde hair, with her hair tied up in a pony-tail, and brown eyes, that seemed to be looking directly into your soul. In a sense, she was about as good looking as you'd expect any stereotypical rich heiress to be, which is to say, very, however, she dressed in a burgundy button up shirt, and a pair of shredded jeans, just about everyone at the table had at one point made a joke about expecting her to be wearing a ballgown, because, as everybody who knew her was aware of, she was absolutely loaded, rich from profits in company left behind by her late parents, although to the best of his knowledge, she had no income, just an incredibly large amount of money left behind from investments which had since been divested, either by her late parents, or by her shortly after her inheritance. Regardless, she had expensive objects on her person at seemingly all times, even the most plain looking purse she carried would turn out to cost the GDP of Albania. (Alex was pretty sure that's hyperbole, but sometimes, he wondered...)
Alex was aware that Rachel had gotten quite a few suitors, both in the university itself, and from some really old fashioned families, that sent physical letters, saying shit along the lines of "Oh, my lady from a most distinguished lineage, I beseech thee to take upon thy hand in marriage..." or some shit like that, Alex had never read one of the letters, but he was assured that's what they all read like by Rachel. Who had recited a theatrical reading of one of the letters to the table a week ago, it had been something of a comedic spectacle, and Rachel filled it with theatrical pomp, while Olivia played Shakespearian sounding music on her phone, the fits of hysterical laughter borne from some of the more flowery prose had sent the table into laughter loud enough they risked being kicked from their desks, which was all the more impressive considering these rooms were sound-proofed to an extent you could probably murder someone with a chainsaw and a noise-maker, and not alert anyone, such was the sound-proofing.
Any rate, despite all these dating/marriage requests, Rachel had remained single; at least to the best of Alex's knowledge, for her entire life, for reasons he wasn't quite sure he understood the reasoning behind, some of the dudes that approached were, as much as his lustful mind loath to admit it, appealing, oft well manner, and other times, the kinda bad-boy that appealed to people who didn't want someone well-mannered. Frankly, he had no idea what she was looking for, and figured she either just didn't want to date, and was possibly flat out asexual.