Luscious Tormentor

!Minor sex references!

As usual, I was sitting at the far back of the class, minding my own business. I lean back, swinging vaguely, back and forth on my chair as I hold my book in between the desk and myself. All I hear are the muffled voices of kids and their constant gossiping as they start to evaporate. I then hear a singular voice, assuming that of course it must be the teacher, and continue reading as my mind resumes cloaking her voice. The teacher then speaks out two words that seem familiar to me. Then it hits me. My eyes blur out the text of my book, my head still facing it, and I start trying to focus on what the teacher was saying but can’t pick up a link. It must be my ears deceiving me – they have to be. I try to sharpen my vision – to focus my eyes back to the words lying upon the book but my brain refuses to cooperate. I hear light footsteps by my right and my pupils subconsciously turn to the corner of my eye, trying to get a view of this person. It wasn’t a clear view, however, he had mocha brown hair, messy but immaculate, he was wearing the normal school uniform, trousers somewhat baggy with his shirt untucked, coating the top of them, tie loosened, and headphones grasping his neck. It can’t be him. It isn’t him. 

The boy sat himself down as his bag slipped off his shoulder, relying on gravity to catch it, and started to get himself prepared for the lesson. My eyes drift back to the book as they watch my hands closing it and sliding it to the bottom of my bag. I then lean backward into my chair once again to observe whatever tedious thing my teacher has to present today. As she begins to expound, I already find myself sighing in defeat and reach into my bag to covertly grab an AirPod. I insert it into my ear swiftly, covering it with the strands of hair laid upon the temple of my head. 

After what has seemed to be an entire day by now, an uneasy feeling creeps upon my figure. I try to shake it off but it lays upon me like a cycle – a cycle that can break through anything that tries to get in its way. I give in and look: left, behind me, in front of me and to the right – the direction where I find him. The boy. His sapphire eyes pierced through me. Filled with something I had never sought before. I rapidly shook my head back to the front of the class, trying to pin all my attention on what the teacher was doing on the board, yet my thoughts held onto the edge of my brain. It was him. It is him. My ears never deceived me. Matthias Makris. The boy who hated me. Of course life had to make something so unfortunate like this. 

My thoughts scramble as I hear my name being called out. 

“Celina, would you care to go to the supply closet and grab some A4 papers? You can take Matthias along with you and give him a small tour, don't you think?” You’ve got to be joking.

I nod in response and we both get up, heading towards the door. I start speed walking down the halls, trying to get this over with, as Matthias tags along behind me. 

“It’s been a while, how’s life going for you?” He questions in that smug voice, the one I remember. Of course he hasn’t changed. 

I don’t respond as he constantly questions me, trying to gain reaction for his own entertainment. But that was my biggest mistake as he started poking the back of my shoulder, acting like the most immature dunce. His constant whines were echoing through the halls at this point. 

At last, we arrived at the supply closet. “Come on! Talk to me. I miss that voice of yours.” He hummed, acting like a five year old who was begging their mother for ice cream. I utter a sigh of annoyance, as he recommenced trying to get me to speak, looking through the closet for the papers. 

“Hey, how about instead of wasting your childish words on rhetorical questions, you actually be helpful and try to find the A4 sheets.” I remark ironically, giving him a sarcastic smile. 

I hear him mutter under his breath “There she is.” With that smug smile plastered across his face. I ignore him and keep on looking for the sheets of paper. I pull out my phone from the pocket of my shirt and turn on the flashlight to get better visibility. My toes carry my weight as I try to look further up the shelves of the closet. 

I hear Matthias rummaging about, supposing he’s looking for the sheets, surprised that he’s in fact capable of being obliging. “Are you actually being helpful for once?” He doesn’t respond until I hear the closet door close. “You actual idiot!” I exclaimed as I quickly turned to face the door, twisting and turning the door knob. Now it was pitch black – pitch black with a tint of light, in a claustrophobic closet, with Matthias. Why should I even be surprised? 

“What?” He questions so innocently I can’t actually tell whether he realises what he’s done.

“This door is broken, we’re going to be stuck in here for who knows how long!”

“How was I supposed to know? I’m the new kid here.”

“Why would you even shut the door in the first place?!” He replies with a shrug, completely undisturbed. 

I carry on arguing with him as he just stands there, probably dreaming in his own world that’s set in the only brain cell up in his mind. “I can't believe we’re arguing over this.” I huff under my breath. 

“Yeah. I can’t believe it either. We should be kissing right now.” 

“Exac-” Wait what.

I then register how close we are – how little space is left between us. I shudder as I feel a cold grip slither onto my waist, leisurely. A cold, heavy draft breathes out and travels onto my collarbone. Another hand clutches my chin delicately, tilting my head up. My eyes follow the movement of my head to see his sapphire eyes glowing in the merest of light, shining through the centimetre gap of the door, piercing through me again. Filled with that same, unknown tone. His hand leaves my chin and trails to a piece of my hair, tugging it behind my ear. I feel myself being pulled by his other hand, pressing our bodies together. His breath was now closer and much heavier. I then felt a rough tenderness on my lips, eager to break me open – eager to eat as if he’s been starved for years. 

He softly breaks the kiss and looks me in the eyes deeply. His beauteous sapphire eyes flaring in the darkness. 

Pleading for more.