Chapter Text
Rio’s sitting at a clothed-covered table, legs spread apart, leaning on his chair lazily nursing his fourth glass of gin. Twirling the liquid in the glass absentmindedly as he takes in the scene in front of him for the hundredth time. At least fifteen people are dancing in pairs to a soft jazz song, way too many kids running and yelling all over the garden, and he hears Aunt Carmela gushing about how beautiful the evening is with the stars shining, the twinkling lights and candles, and whatnot. Even an hour ago or so he heard a lady say, “Oh, love is in the air” when the bride and groom were having their first dance. Cheesy af.
Rio takes a long breath; his lungs fill with the scent of lilacs scattered all around the garden. Leaning his head on the back of the chair exhaling while staring at the full moon. That’s when he decides he’s done.
It’s not like he doesn’t appreciate a little romance and beauty, nah, he’s just had enough of mothers with single daughters’ side-eyeing him, like lionesses fixed in on their next prey. Though, he doesn’t blame them mamas. After all, owning multiple businesses at thirty-three –the details don’t matter– and looking the way he does? Shit. Not his words.
He's paid his dues. Came to his younger cousin’s –Ric– wedding, did the whole best man duties and whatnot. Hell, he even went above and beyond to make sure the dumb fuck won’t screw anything up for his wife-to-be, Rachel! And you know what? He even promised to do his best when they made him swear to behave and not take girls behind bushes or the nearest bathroom to give them a preview of the best time of their lives! So, now that he can’t even have that he’s bored! He thinks they really owe him a big fat “Thank you, Rio.” after all his sacrifices.
Though they insisted he bring a date with him, but Rio drew the line at that real quick. Ain’t got nobody like that to bring around his entire family and give them the wrong ideas. They know by now that he ain’t about that life – ‘least not right now.
With that thought, he drains the remanence of his drink in one go and abandons the table to make his way towards the “safe zone” –aka away from the kids and horny mamas– to join the other men for a hefty cigar to savor for the rest of the night.
Rio’s making his way through the dancing crowd with a mission when he bumps into a shorter and much softer body than his own. He groans as the surprise impact forces the air from his lungs, but he still reaches out in reflex to steady… her.
The first things he notices after the crash are the sweet scent of vanilla filling his senses, the soft silky material of her polka dot dress against his hand resting on her ribcage, and the smooth feel of her bare arm under his right palm. He lifts his eyes immediately to meet with the eyes of his little obstacle. As soon as their eyes meet, he’s stunned by her blue orbits shining under the lights. Her irises are so damn large you can barely see the whites of her eyes! He forces himself to peel his gaze off her eyes before they suck his soul out. So, he drags his eyes to delve into the rest of her. Red hair, soft eyebrows, lush lashes, rosy cheeks, pinkish full lips slightly open to allow her tongue to peak out and wet them. He can still see the remanences of her lipstick.
He’s still holding a tight grip on her when she clears her throat while staring at him expectantly. Rio lets go of her immediately and shoves his hands into his slacks pockets, shaking his head to clear it, “You good?” he rasps. Pointing to her shoulder –the one crashed into him– with his chin.
“Am I good?! This is probably going to bruise in like, five minutes! Watch where you’re going next time!” she sneers, and then she’s pushing him aside with her pointer finger pressed on his chest.
He’s taken aback by her accusatory tone that is in complete contrast with her sweet and feminine undertone, and all he can muster is, “Excuse me?” frowning, trying to take the upper hand. Though, it’s too late. She’s detangled herself from his weakly built spider web and is out of his trap.
Feeling astonished, he stares at her behind as she gets farther away. He takes in her soft red curls, her flowy green polka dot dress –which she’s lifting the front end with her hand to walk freely– and lower to her round hips as she sways them. Letting out an irritated huff before making his way towards the cigar he needs more than ever now.
“Oh man, were you just talking to Beth Marks?!” Josh, one of his cousin's close friends, says with utter amusement.
“Don’t know any Beth Marks.” he says distractedly, trying to go through the cigar options to pick out his poison when he comes across ‘God of Fire’. Yeah, that’ll do.
“Yeah, the redhead you were just talking to. She roasted you, didn’t she?” with a shake of his head and a chuckle, he takes another drag of his shit choice of a tobacco. Rio decides to ignore the guy. Focusing on cutting the tip off of his cigar, getting it ready.
But Josh continues, “That woman is the devil himself. When they say looks are deceiving, man, they don’t lie!” Josh says in between sips from his whiskey with a stupid grin plastered across his face.
Rio nods along. Grabbing a zippo to fire up his roll and starts taking quick puffs, rotating it so the fire can spread evenly. Once satisfied, he settles farther down into his seat, spreading his legs while his eyes search for her. It doesn’t take him long to find her profile talking enthusiastically with a group of guests while taking dainty sips of the amber liquid in her glass.
Rio takes a long drag of his cigar, pushing the smoke out slowly, his eyes glued on Elizabeth. Looks are deceiving, Josh said. Well, count him as already deceived.
Beth's dress (But imagine in green. Either Sacramento green, or Forest. Can't decide.)