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One, you have a beautiful smile that reminds me of peach blossoms and falling snow. Don’t make me choose between the two, because I dig both. So imagine my surprise when I found both of those traits in something as simple as your smile. Two, you’re so real that if anyone attempted to get inside you, they’d probably drown from how deep you are. I volunteer to take a tour, though. If you’ll let me.
My real reason is: 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?).
So now, the million-dollar question: Can you be my friend, Naomi?
But if you do reply, I’ll probably do a year’s worth of victory dances. 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
I’d rather live my twenty-one-year-old life listening to hard rock and having as little contact with humans as physically possible, thank you very much.
Maybe I’ll have an emotional scar from the cheer squad and won’t be able to live my adult life sketching mangas in a dark basement.
Not even the one person I actually notice on the football team. The one with sandy hair and sharp features and hard, glistening abs that could very well be used as a weapon. The one who doesn’t know half the campus exists, while everyone is taught his name the moment they step into Blackwood. But that one? Yeah, I’m glad he knows nothing of my intentions, because I will get over him. It’s just a crush…if a crush can go on for this long.
That’s when it happens. I see the ball traveling my way at supersonic speed. But it’s too late.
And not just any body. The body of the football player whose existence I’ve spent years trying to ignore. And failing.
Sebastian Weaver. Star quarterback. A former senator’s grandson. And dangerous.
He plays the social game so well, I’m jealous sometimes. I wish I could fake it as convincingly as he does. I wish I could smile at people when all I want to do is hide.
He’s still smiling, but he’s not attempting to conceal its fakery anymore. That’s what people do when they’re fed up. They let the masks fall and allow their true selves to show through.
Those who belong to my family need to bring something to the table, whether it’s grades, victories, a senatorial position, or a hotshot lawyer role like my uncle. At any rate, I need to have something to offer.
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.
Dinner tomorrow?” “In the funeral home before they cremate you?”
“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.”
“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. Mom doesn’t hit me. Ever. And the surprise on her face matches my own as burning tears roll down my cheeks.
I want to tell her that I’ve been a grownup since that night twelve years ago. That I figuratively lost my innocence and she wasn’t there for me.
A weird sense of possessiveness grips me by the fucking ball. She’s like this for me. Only me
“Why me?” “Because it’s you.”
“The manga is better.” “Aha. So you prefer manga. Noted. Let’s buy you some and fuck on top of them.”
The thought itself was alarming, but no more than how much I’ve yearned to see her face every day. Or how I’ve looked forward to simple platonic meals with her where I’ve listened to her nerdy side talk about manga and anime and serial killers.
“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.”
Slap! I gasp as the sting registers on my face. He just…slapped me and…I’m wet. Holy fuck. I’m really insane.
“Mmm…a fucking virgin. Even fucking better.” The satisfaction and pure sadism in his tone leave me gasping. “I can feel your blood coating my dick. The best lube I’ve ever had.”
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.
That won’t stop me, baby. I’ll always find a way back in.
I turn to leave when a strong hand wraps around my wrist and brings me to a screeching halt. My lips part as I stare back at Sebastian and then his hold on me. He’s grabbing me like when we’re alone, savagely, without giving me any room… My thoughts trail off when his assertive voice echoes in the air, “But I want you to stay, baby.”
“She doesn’t have a place to sit,” Brianna snaps, twisting her pink lips in obvious disapproval. “Yes, she does.” He tugs on my wrist until I drop onto his lap. I gasp as I land straight against a warm bulge.
What would you have done if you’d shot your spawn inside me?” “Take care of it when it comes.” “What makes you think I want children this young?” “It’s not planned, so if it happens, it happens.”
So, no, you don’t hate men. You just hate your inferiority complex. You hate that you can’t muster the courage to start a conversation or to lose the resting bitch face long enough for someone to approach you. You’ve taken the word introvert to a whole different level and turned it into a hostile situation that you can’t escape anymore.
I’m special. I’m different. At least, to him. Not Sebastian, but the beastly side of him.
The beast and I have an arrangement. I take his darkness and he swallows mine. I get off on his unapologetic dominance and he gets off on my unconditional submission.
We usually sit together, whether with the football team and the cheer squad or alone—or more like, he sits me on his lap, oblivious to everyone whispering and throwing jabs at us. And I love that about him, the fact that he lets no one penetrate his armor. Having meals and talking about politics, law, manga, and anime has become normal. Our time together is something I look forward to every day.
“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.”
He’s a shallow quarterback with nothing behind his physical appearance. He’s not my type.”
“The rascal doesn’t bring his girlfriends home.” “We’re not really…” “We are,” I say firmly, cutting her off.
“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.”
All I can see are dicks that need to be cut off for looking at my girl while she’s dressed like that. My girl. I pause at that thought. Since when did Naomi become my girl?
I’m fucking infatuated with this girl. And the twisted sex only plays a small part of it. Because even without the sex, I feel something is missing if I don’t see her for a few hours. Maybe infatuated isn’t the right word, because I’m on the verge of becoming a criminal to ward any unwanted attention off her.
Do that again and I’ll jam your teeth to the back of your skull, then use them to rip your balls off your dick.”
Naomi: You don’t get to treat me like a piece of meat in front of everyone, you fucking asshole. Sebastian: He was a problem and I had to take care of it. Naomi: By being a caveman? Sebastian: If need be. Naomi: That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Sebastian: None of this is how it’s supposed to be, baby. Now, stop making this a fucking event and go where I told you. I’m going to tear through your ass until the whole campus hears your screams tonight.
Until her. The girl who’s running because I ordered her to. Because she wants it as much as I do. Because she has bursts of violence, too. Only, she’s on the receiving end of it.
I’m the beast and she’s the toy. I’m the monster and she’s the prey.
It might have started with my twisted urges, but they soon mixed with her own fantasies, and now we’re just two fucked-up souls feeding off each other’s depravity. We’re two monsters who made peace with the darkness.
One where it’s only me and her. I don’t give a fuck if it’s the beast and the toy or the quarterback and the cheerleader.
Haunting. Taunting. The red night made me who I am, whether I like to admit it or not. It made me scared of people, of attachment, of allowing anyone close. And most of all, it made me grow apart from the only family I have. My mom.
You enjoy knowing that you can end it at any time. You’re brave to recognize what you want while having control over the situation. So, in a way, you like having the power you weren’t fortunate enough to possess back then.”
“My urge for violence has become less important since you.”
