SEEN TOO MUCH, I GOT THE BLUES

STORM

The receptionist is cheery and talkative. She has asked me who my parents are, where I was studying before, all this before I have even been handed my timetable.

After trying so much to try to make me talk and seeing it futile after giving her one-worded answers, she finally hands me over the class timetable and I bid her goodbye with a tight smile.

I am walking looking at the sheet without really knowing where I am looking when I bump into something solid, hard, and tall that smells so good like rain, and freshly cut grass and I want to sniff and get lost in it.

My bag slides across the floor the sheet getting torn and me falling on my butt. Hard.

I look up, only to find piercing green eyes looking right back at me. And he is not smiling, nor apologizing for making me fall. Worse, he is not helping me stand up!

“Watch where you are going,” he says this all while looking at me, a wicked smirk on his perfect pink lips. I part my lips to say something but nothing comes out, as I am stuck by the sheer beauty of the boy looking down on me, as I am still on the floor. He lifts an eyebrow, catching me staring at him and I angrily look back into his eyes which have a playful glint in them.

“Take all the time you need,” he suggests, splaying his hands out in an invite for him to fully check him out.

A hot blush spreads across my cheeks and I stand up angrily, but with grace, and collect my backpack, shooting him daggers. I still haven’t said anything yet to him, and I hold up the torn sheet in his face.

“While you are still at the ego horse, fetch me one of these,” I talk to him unaffected on the outside by his proximity to me and the fact that he is the most handsome boy I have ever laid eyes on.

His eyes widen just a fraction as if regarding me through a new lens and I am pretty sure he is giving me a chance to take my words back. When he still doesn’t take the paper, I raise my eyebrows in question and he outright bursts out laughing.

His laugh echoes across the empty hallway.

“New girl has a lot to learn,” he comes close to me, caging me in by the wall, and I have to fight every urge in me not to step back and put my back on the wall, away from him.

He circles me, and I can swear he sniffs at me. I roll my eyes, typical wolf thing.

“I have a name, you asshole. And didn’t your mother teach you anything at all? Respect when it comes to girls?”

All of a sudden, my back is against the wall, and his body is caging me in, but still not yet touching me. I shake a little on the inside at the sudden elevation of this moment. “I respect girls well enough, especially when they are all tied up and screaming my name, begging me to disrespect them, and call them disrespectful names,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that makes me get goosebumps along my neck, as I feel the whisper of his breath on my skin.

What the hell is going on? He is one of the marks!

It takes all my strength and inner willpower to push him off, disgusted by him and mostly myself at how easy it is for him to rile me up. No one has ever riled me up.

But again, I have never been this close with a boy, ever. Unless it’s when I am daggering them or holding them in a chokehold. Then I have no time to think about how their body seems to fit my body perfectly and how their closeness is making me feel things I have never felt before, my whole body coming alive in just a breath of a whisper. And for a flash me imagining myself being tied up, being disrespected.

“You are disgusting,” I say harshly, picking up my bag and leaving. Fuck! Now I have no idea where my first class is.

“Go to your left, second door,” a voice says from behind. Him standing there with my torn sheet, and then winks at me before I storm in the given direction.

What the fuck was that?! This is the only question ringing in my mind the whole time I am in the classes, already having studied the syllables ahead.

I am not meant to be distracted by them. They are hunts, a task I have to do … for my dad. I touch the back of my neck, feeling the start of the long scar that starts from the side of the neck across my back to my hip bone.

Dad! No!

I shake my head to keep the memory away, it is ever painful, it’s all I can see and dream of when I sleep. I have ever slept peacefully, not a single night and I am pretty sure I am going to sleep well when the last one of them is dead.

I always still wonder how I made it alive, and how I managed to find myself away from the spot my life changed. The scar was from when I was thrown off to a tree, hitting it with my back, my spine was broken but I am a werewolf so I healed but the mark never really faded.

When I blacked out, in between shifts, I don’t remember what happened and how I ended up on the other side of the woods, and my family house on fire from a distance. I knew they were all dead, I could smell the burning flesh.

I rub my eyes tiredly, feeling the overwhelming wave of emotion on my whole body. I pack my bags, not feeling like staying longer in this class, it’s my last one anyway, and head out.

Days, when I think about my family and what happened always, lead me to go into a hermit, retreating into my haven- my car- and just driving aimlessly until the pain subdues, but it never really goes away.

Right now, I just want to retreat in my small apartment, in a comfortable bed, and just be alone.