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I want to get to know you. The girl behind the rare smiles and the ‘fuck the world’ attitude. The girl who wears her black hair short and her lips pink. The girl whose headphones seem to be her only friend (what do you listen to, by the way?).
Just don’t get any ideas about what this is. I can only be your friend, Naomi. If you go and fall in love with me, I’ll have no choice but to disappear. And that’s just sad. And unnecessary. Impatiently waiting, Akira
it scares me. The fact that I have no one and am all alone terrifies the shit out of me. But no more so than the idea of actually reaching out to people and being vulnerable just so they can hurt me. Both are horrifying monsters I think of every day.
Jesus. His abdomen is as firm as the ground against my back, only it’s soft enough to sleep on. Or rub my face against it. Or any other activity that includes touching it.
“Get off me.” “Shhh. I’m not done.” “Done with what?” “With you.”
The only image that comes to mind is that of a beautiful petite woman who’ll be destroyed to pieces by the end of this bet. And if anyone’s going to be doing the destroying, it’s only fair that it’s me. I won’t take it far. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself. I wipe my mouth with a napkin, meeting all their gazes. “I’ll do it. I’ll fuck Naomi.”
“If it isn’t the immigrant. Aren’t you late?” I roll my eyes. “I was born here.” “Oh, so your mommy is the immigrant. It’s hard to keep track with all of you people coming here.”
A reporter is asking Sebastian about the reason behind his energy as we pass behind them, heading to our locker room. It happens so fast, I don’t even see it coming. One moment, I’m walking, and the next, Sebastian turns around, grabs me by the waist, and tugs me against him. “The reason is her,” he says, and then his lips meet mine.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I hiss, finally snapping out of whatever spell his scent just cast on me. His eyes twinkle under the lights as if he’s finding pleasure in whatever show he’s putting on. “Which part? Kissing you? Or doing it publicly?” “Both!” “Why? You’d rather I did it in private?” His thumb strokes the bare skin above my skirt, grazing the line of my belly. A tender sensation blossoms at the bottom of my stomach with each caress. “I can take care of that.”
“Now, Naomi. If we’re going to have a healthy relationship, there shouldn’t be any violence present. Unless…it’s the type of violence we both agree on.”
“Who said I want any relationship with you?” “You should. I recommend it.”
“You hate being a cheerleader and throw every tantrum under the sun to be kicked off the squad. However, the dean and the coach keep you on because of the checks your mommy writes to the college. You were raised by a single mother of Japanese origins and you have a tendency toward passive-aggressiveness and straight out aggressiveness when your race is brought up. You use sarcasm and self-deprecation as a defense mechanism, but you don’t react well when those tactics are directed at you. You barely smile because you like being angry at the world and everyone in it and prefer to be an asocial
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“Now I know what you truly are,” he says. “And what is that?” “Tsundere.” “What?” “It means someone who’s hot and cold. Violent on the outside, despite being soft on the inside.”
“I’m the one who faced social discrimination and did my best to give you a comfortable life. I’m the one who works day in and day out so no one looks down on you. What did your father do in all of that?” “I wouldn’t know, because you won’t tell me.” “I’m protecting you.” “Just like you protected me from your boyfriend when I was nine years old? If Dad were here, that would’ve never happened!” She raises her palm and strikes me across the face so hard, I reel from the shock of it.
“When I kissed you yesterday, you didn’t moan.”
“S-so?” “That’s the bet. I’ll kiss you again. If you moan, I win. If you don’t, you win.” I open my mouth to protest, but it ends on a gasp when his lips claim mine.
“Were you ready for me, Tsundere?” he rasps near my ear, still tugging on my nipple, twirling, stimulating. “Ready for you?” My voice is too breathy and strangled, as if I’m relearning how to articulate properly. “You left these tits uncovered because you wanted me to feel them.” “That’s…not true.”
“But they’re ready for me. Can’t you see how much they want my mouth on them?”
“I’m anything but quiet. I just don’t like to talk when it’s not needed—which is most of the time.” “You’re talking now.” “That’s because you’re being infuriating.” “Oh, baby. Do I get on your nerves? Do you hate how you melt against me even though you think you hate me?”
“Come with me.” “Where?” “As the loser, you don’t have the right to ask questions. You just follow along.” “I won’t move from here until you tell me where we’re going.” “Somewhere where your mother won’t hear you moaning.”
A weird sense of possessiveness grips me by the fucking ball. She’s like this for me. Only me.
“My dick misses your lips. I think it was love at first sight.” “Shut up.” “The only way for me to do that is if you get on your knees again.” “Never.” “Never say never, baby.”
“I told you, I find no pleasure in taking without consent. In fact, I’m more interested in fighting for it. Guess what? You just gave me a reason to fight, baby, and I won’t leave you alone.”
Why does he look so beautiful when he laughs? Shouldn’t there be some sort of a hazard warning for that?
“Feel that, baby? That’s your wet cunt begging me for more.” “Shut up!” “Are you embarrassed by how much you want this? How much you really love the debauchery of it?” “No…” He slides the panties away from my pussy and pounds two fingers inside in one go. “Your tight cunt disagrees.”
I’m infuriatingly attracted to the other side of the coin. The dark, shadowed one. And that’s dangerous. Because it might lure me in and never let go.
“How do you know that word, anyway?” I try to elbow him, but he anticipates it and twists his body out of the way, grinning. “I used to watch a lot of anime.” “Otaku,” I mutter. “I know what that means, and since you do, too, then you’re a geek as well.
Does this mean he’s akira?
“Aha. So you prefer manga. Noted. Let’s buy you some and fuck on top of them.” It takes everything in me not to crack a smile at the tone of his voice. “Does everything need to be about sex with you?” “Eighty percent of the time. I’m trying to free your dormant fantasies, after all.” “I…I don’t have fantasies.” He lowers his head, surprising the hell out of me as he stares straight into my eyes with his imploring ones. “The stuttering just proved you do. I knew you were special.”
“Do you hoard them?” The amusement in his tone pisses me off. “Yeah, and masturbate with them. Happy now?” “No. Now that you put the image in my head, I need the details. Or a demonstration. Both are acceptable.” “In your dreams. Besides, it’s all digital now. No one buys physical manga anymore.” “The geeks do.” “I’m…not a geek.” “Oh, sorry. An otaku.” “Screw you.” “Believe me, there’s nothing else I’d rather do. But we have to balance things out for that twenty percent non-sex part. Or maybe I should reduce it to ten percent. What do you think?” “I think you have sex problems.”
I’ve never found one compatible enough to say it to.” “Then keep searching.” “Why would I when you’re right in front of me?” “I’m not one of your toys, Sebastian.” “No, you’re more. If it were anyone else, they would’ve screamed bloody murder the night I asked you to run, but you played along, fought and clawed.” “Anyone in my position would’ve done that.” “Not while having fuck-me eyes.”
The fucking bet again. No idea why she’s so insistent on something childish when I haven’t even thought about the thing. It doesn’t matter anymore. It probably never did.
Her tough love persona is so fucking alluring, I want to sink my teeth into her flesh and taste it up close and personal.
“I’ll let you go and you’ll run. If I catch you, I’m going to take you, use you, abuse you, and fill your cunt with my cum and make you choke on my dick until you’re crying and begging me to stop.” His voice lowers to a threatening range. “But I won’t stop.”
The promise in his words is like my worst nightmare and my most coveted dream. Right in wrong. Wrong in right. Yin and yang.
“I’m going to ram my bare dick into that tight cunt of yours and rip you apart and you’re going to take it like the dirty whore you are.”
Heads-up. I’m your number one fan, so don’t forget about me if you become a manga artist.
One day, you’ll be having a signing and I’ll show up with a copy of your work and kiss you in front of all your other fans. They’ll probably cause a ruckus and I’ll tell them it’s the perks of being your number one. As if I’ll let you kiss me. You won’t have a choice. I’ll ban you and ask security to escort you out. That won’t stop me, baby. I’ll always find a way back in.
“It’s not like you want to join us, anyway, is it?” “No, thanks. My bitch battery is full for the day.”
“But I want you to stay, baby.”
“The forest. At seven.” I gulp as images from that weekend assault me all over again. It takes all of my will to ask, “Why at seven?” He strokes my cheek with his nose, making me shiver. “Because it’s night and you become my whore at night.”
I’ve always wanted someone I could bare my soul to. Someone I could tell anything without them judging me.
Akira was the one person I could slowly open up to and even talk to about porn and stuff. He didn’t see me and couldn’t judge me. Or so I thought.
“I’m not falling for him!” “I might believe that if I hadn’t seen the way you look at him. It’s like you’ve waited your entire life for him.”
“What are you doing here?” I whisper. He doesn’t usually come to our department. He reaches into his pocket and gets out a bottle of apple juice, my favorite, and throws it in my direction. I catch it between clammy fingers as his detached voice wraps a noose around my throat. “I thought I’d come see you since we didn’t have lunch together.
“Is that what we have? An addiction?” “An addiction. An obsession. A madness. Take your pick. Oh, or maybe it’s shallow, too.” I release a shaky breath. “I was agitated by Reina and I just didn’t want her to know…” “Know what?” How deep it really goes for us. Or at least, for me.
Since we ditched anyway, I take Naomi to my devil’s lair. Kidding. Just my apartment.
She laughs, the sound is like fucking music to my ears. I love knowing that she’s a closed off person on the outside but is a mushy girl with me. Only me.
“Can you turn it off?” “Maybe I want to continue watching it.” “Sebastian!” “Yes, baby?” “Don’t you want to…you know?” “I don’t know. Why don’t you remind me?”
“What are you laughing at?” “You and your uncle have a loveable relationship.” “I call it ‘he’s a pain in the ass’ relationship.” “It’s loveable, anyway. I like seeing you this way.” “What way?” “Human, I guess. Real.” “You, however, are always real.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “I’m more real with you.”
I looked forward to spending time with her, to hearing her talk about stupid serial killers and the latest podcast she’s obsessed with. Even her rock music is growing on me. Sometimes, when she falls asleep on the couch, I watch how peaceful she is.
