Jealousy Comes to Lovers, as Moths to a Flame.

Alexis lay awake, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she slept. He allowed one finger to dance delicately across that butterfly, treating it with the utmost respect.

His treasure.

He did not know why she had chosen him, nor did he care to question it in too much detail. What did it matter why she lay with him? The fact remained that she was there, enveloped softly in a scarlet kiss, as her body had earlier held him.

A smile spread across his lips as his mind replayed the looks on their faces when she had walked across the hall towards him. He revelled in the memory of men's fallen expressions as she ignored all of their advances. As she walked past their cheap smiles and outstretched hands, and instead locked lips with the only man in the room who did not own a Rolex, or a Mercedes.

As she locked lips with him.

Alexis smoothed one hand over the silks that hugged his bare skin. He was glad he had taken her here. A person of such beauty deserved all the splendors he could give her. He dreaded the day when she should see him for what he really was. The day when she would see that he didn't belong in the same class as she did, or even the class below. But for now he shook off these thoughts: worked himself free of the doubt that she could ever want him, in knowing who he really was; fought against the jealousy that already accompanied the thought of that butterfly beneath another hand, and smiled.

For now at least, he could live this lie...and be happy.

The End

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