You may have stolen me
- Locked due to inactivity on Nov 26, '22 3:54am
Thread Topic: You may have stolen me
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C1 owns a bakery shop and is excellent at what she does. She has planned her whole life out. She's never had romantic feelings for anyone, and she plans to keep it that way.
C2 walks into her shop and falls in love with her baking. In love with her.
A week later he is confessing his love to her, begging for her to come with him.
C1 rejects him, but C2 simply can't accept it. He gives her time to think about it.
Eventually, C2 kidnaps C1
(Also, C2 is pretty much a madman. As in, if C1 tried to run away he'd threaten to cut off her legs, you know, things like that)
I already have a character for C2 but if whoever joins wants to be that character I'll be C1. -
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DO MY EYES SPY AN ICONIC PLOT 👀
One C1, please -
XD
Coming right up!
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Appearance:
Personality:
Bio:
Other: -
Name: Dahlia Mason
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Appearance: Fair-skinned with long, dark brown curls and soft, stormy gray eyes.
Personality: TBD(too lazy to describe)
Bio: She had always had a passion for baking, as it was something she had done often with her parents as a little girl. She wants to start a small bakery business, and to spread her excellent recipes and good food around the world.
Other: She is about to be ✨yoinked✨ -
Name: Nickola Candrevo
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Italian
Appearance: Black hair, tan skin, deep blue eyes, tall, slender but muscular
Clothing: Dress pants and a button-down shirt, wears a suit when he's doing something important.
Other information:
He's a madman
You'll be sorry if you don't do what he says
He's extremely rich, and lives in a mansion in Italy. He also has a home in America, where he's been staying for the past year, but the mansion there is not nearly as lavish.
He's fluent in English, but he'll sometimes throw in some Italian words in there just because. -
"But. amore mio, you do not understand," Nickola said, pleading with her. He had a desperate look in his eyes as if she was tearing something very dear and precious to him. She had rejected him. He gripped her hands in his over the front counter of the bakery. "I can give you anything your heart ever desires, I will shower you with love like no other man ever can or will. Let me court you, Dahlia. Or...perhaps you need some time to think, yes, time to think, about me, about us."
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Dahlia took a step back, slipping her hands away from his and looking nervous and unsettled. She took in a shaky sigh, composing herself and hardening her expression. "Nickola, I said no. I don't want a relationship."
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He had been pleading with her for a whole ten minutes. Other customers were wondering what on earth was going on. Many of them were waiting to make their purchases.
Nickola was suddenly silent. His face was blank, void of emotions. "You don't love me?" he asked in a steady voice. -
Dahlia clasped her hands together, looking rather unsettled. "I don't love you, Nickola. Not that way," she said, her arms crossed. "If you aren't going to buy something, please leave. There are customers waiting."
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"I will still give you time to think, cara," he said as he stood up straight. "Please consider. You would be so happy, nothing I care about nothing more than your happiness."
He let out a sigh. "Il mio cuore..." Nickola said softly, then turned around sadly and walked out of the bakery. -
Dahlia frowned softly, watching him leave. Why couldn't he just accept that she wasn't interested? She sighed quietly, before turning to the next customer with a polite smile. "Hi, how can I help you?"
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It was about 1 in the wee hours of the morning when Nickola dialed Emma's number into his phone and hit the call button. He had a request.
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Dahlia rubbed her eyes, exhaustion weighing her down like an anvil. She closed her folder of recipes, a new addition to the papers written in shining, fresh ink amongst timeless recipes. She slipped into bed, pulling the covers over her head and groaning softly.
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Nickola frowned at the phone when it went to voicemail. He tried calling her again.
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