Skin of a Sinner

by Avina St. Graves

“You fucked with my girl.” Roman chuckles darkly, glancing at me before saying, “And you should never fuck with my girl.”

cliche but ok

We never used to be able to high-five without one or both of us flinching, so when she hugged me for the very first time two years ago on my birthday, it was like I saw the light. Then, when she hugged me last year, I’m pretty sure I understood why people find religion.

mmm i’ll accept it

“You taste like every sinful thought I’ve ever had.”

aye yoooo

“You went too far.” “No amount of blood spilled will ever be too much for you.” “When will it end?” He smirks. “When I’m in a grave, and even then, Hell won’t keep me from you.”

ykw

“The next time something happens, you call me. Even if it’s just to ask which shirt you should wear or if you're out of snacks. I don’t give a shit if I’m working, sleeping, or half-dead; you grab that phone, and you call me. I’ll pick up whatever you need, even if I’m six feet under, Bella. There isn’t a god in existence that could stop me from getting to you. So you pick up that phone and call me before you even think about calling the cops. Got it?”

need them this clingy

“What about when you fed me undercooked chicken, and I was out with food poisoning for a week?” I say pointedly. He’s silent for one beat, then two. “But did you die?” I gape at him. “I was so dehydrated from throwing up, I thought I saw God.” “No, you saw me. And I’ve apologized.” His voice drops a level, and I can feel the guilt seeping out of him.

BUT DID YOU DIR

“I’m going to see you every day, and it’s going to kill me not to pounce on you.” Mickey pushes himself onto his back and raises himself on his elbows so he’s staring down at me with a grin. “On that note, no skirts, no shorts, no low-cut shirts, and—I never thought I’d agree with the teachers—no shoulders. For God’s sake, you better put away the shoulders. They’re too tempting. And those thin little tank top straps? So breakable,” he rambles, talking so fast I almost miss what he’s saying. I'd believe him if he told me that he was drunk or high.

help

My religion starts with “Isa” and ends with “Bella,” and I’d worship at her altar every night. Blessed be the meal I’m about to eat and all that.

held it any longer. I don’t think she realizes how stressful being a virgin in a men’s prison is.

i cackled

“An added bonus,” she says slowly, wrapping her tongue around each syllable like she’s making sure she says it right. “An added bonus?” There’s a flare with how she says the words. And now, cue the fireworks. “An added bonus? You—” “Baby, you’re so good at repeating things.” At this rate, she might shoot me. I could blame

i love them fighting

The blonde bombshell sidles up to Roman’s side and feels up his abs, completely ignoring my existence. But I say nothing. Do nothing. I bite my tongue and watch. She doesn’t owe me anything. It’s not my job to stop her. “Need a hand taking the edge off, handsome?” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence. Roman’s hand is on her forehead, pushing her back until she’s a full arm's length away. “Not interested.” A missing blotch of makeup the size of Mickey’s thumb marks the middle of her forehead. She blinks up at him in shock, but I have to hand it to her, she recovers quickly, plastering a saccharine smile on her irritatingly pretty face.

pls picturing this sent me into orbit

“You don’t what, baby? Know how to suck cock? If you did, we would have a big fucking problem because someone else would need to die.”

HELP

As she closes the distance, I reach my hand out for her. Instead of taking it, the little shit grabs my arm, spins around, then throws me over her fucking shoulder. Just like I taught her. Ain’t no way will “the student becomes the master” bullshit fly here, but shit, am I impressed she pulled that off on the first try. I didn’t even see it coming.