He Is Really Here

Novel’s POV

“How do you want it, Novel?” he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

“I don't know... I have never done it before,” I stuttered.

He didn't respond with words, but with his mouth, which found its way to my neck. My knees grew weak, and I almost fell, but he held my waist firm as he nibbled my neck.

“Ahh,” I moaned.

“That's a good girl,” he continued as he sucked and bit my neck.

I was so wet and could feel it. He slid his finger under my pants.

“Ahh!” I cried.

He put one finger in, and I moaned in ecstasy. “Ahh!” He pulled it out, and when I was about to question him, he put it in again. He continued at a slow pace.

“Faster, please!” I cried out.

“Say my name while I fuck you with my fingers, Novel. This is a little punishment. Would you be a good girl?”

I nodded, and he pressed harder.

“Ahh, Alexei! Please, faster!”

He was about to go faster when I heard a beeping sound. It sounded like my alarm. Wait, what was going on?

“Alexei, can you…” I stopped halfway because he was no longer there, and the beeping sound was too much.

“Stoppppp!” I jolted awake, and the first thing I did was throw my alarm clock on the floor.

“Ughhh,” I groaned. “I hate Mondays.”

Why? Because Mondays of sophomore year are chaos.

I hurriedly took a bath and wore a blue tank top and high-waist jeans. I put on a little bit of makeup. I couldn't look like an ugly bitch who didn't sleep well because she was almost disvirgined in her dreams. I paired my outfit with black Mary Jane heels not too high, when I say heels.

I took a cab, and when I arrived at the school, I hurried to the worst class of all and it's compulsory, I can't even drop it: Media Ethics and Law. The lecturer is Mr. Maxwell, an old man in his fifties. He has this bald head, and he dresses like it's the 90s. He loves money; well, everybody loves money, but he's the worst.

I took a seat at the front, as usual. “I love Mondays.” (I don't, but the front seat is only open on Mondays).

“Ahem, settle down, class,” Mr. Maxwell said with his usual expression that says, “I don't care; do what you want.” How did he expect the class to be organized?

“I think you all may want to listen to this,” Mr. Maxwell said, then continued, “Your seniors will be joining you guys as of today, so take notes from them.” He said this, then left the hall.

This is so absurd. Everybody scrambled out for their next class. You must have noticed I don't have friends, and you are right I don't. I'm just some lonely…

“Watch where you're going,” a girl said, taking me out of my thoughts.

“I didn't even touch you,” I scoffed.

“What? Did you just scoff at me?” she shouted.

I don't know why, but I kind of liked that she was pretty and all fitting a main lead in some romance novel but I usually don't like blondes, and she was a blonde.

“Well... sorry. I think we’re good now,” I smiled at her.

I was about to walk away when she dragged me back by my hair the hair I suffered to style this morning. I was about to fight back when an angel came in between us.

“Betty, you can't go about fighting everybody you see on the road because we had a fight,” he said to the girl.

So, her name was Betty. It fit her bitchy character. But the boy? He was hot. He was 6'3" and had these icy blue eyes that complimented his pale skin. He had this jet-black hair, and I felt like running my hands through it. That would have been cool if I wasn't in this messed up situation.

“Sorry, I apologize on her behalf.”

His voice was also divine, so I nodded in acceptance with a smile.

“Thank you,” he said, then walked up to the girl named Betty and dragged her away.

I hate Mondays, and things could not get any better. I received a text saying we have a get-together. “Why me?” I felt like crying.

After all my classes, I hurried home so I could catch a nap before the get-together. I know you would say, “If I don't like it, why am I going?” but it's compulsory, and our lecturer is going to be there at least, that's what I thought until I got to the venue.

“I could have done my research about this place,” I said to myself as I walked past sweaty bodies dancing to deafening music. I was dressed in a hoodie and baggy jeans, and this was clearly a club, I think.

I made my way to the private room that they booked. I thought it was a restaurant. I struggled past drunk teenagers, adults, and so on, and finally, I got to the room. When I entered, I was so disappointed. There was no lecturer, but maybe there is.

“Please, is there a lecturer here?” I asked a girl with black hair.

She looked at me like I was a dummy.

“I mean, I came because they said they would add points,” I explained.

But instead of replying, she burst into laughter. “Guys, she fell for it!” she said to the other people in the room.

“Pay up, Williams! I told you the nerds would fall for it,” a boy I had never seen said to a guy beside him, and they were all laughing. That's when I knew that I had to go.

I immediately slipped out of the room when they weren't looking. On my way out, I bumped hard into a chest.

“Ouch,” I cried, rubbing my head.

When I looked up, I saw him. He was already looking at me.

“Am I dreaming?” I said out loud, the words barely a whisper 

“No, you're not, Miss Novel.”

 It was him and He's really…..