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Bhodi
“What did you do that for?” a quiet voice asks, starling me.
“Shit! You scared me!” I cry, spinning on the spot to see who spoke. It’s the rainbow haired crier. “Oh, it’s you…are you okay?”
She looks pale, her eyes red from crying, tear tracks still visible on her cheeks. That’s not what disturbs me though. It’s her arms. They’re covered in deep scratches and dried blood. Hell, some of them are still bleeding.
I’m about to demand to know who hurt her, reaching out to take her hand in mine, when I spot the dark lines underneath her nails. I still.
I understand the need to cause pain to chase certain demons away, but I’ll never understand the desire to turn that need inwards upon yourself. I inflict pain on others, not myself.
This girl needs serious help. Way more than I can give her. But where do I turn to get it for her?
“You didn’t have to do that for me,” she says in a small voice. She’s quiet, shocked almost, but there’s strength there when she speaks. It’s like she’s not used to having anyone fighting in her corner before now, which makes me more determined than ever to help her however I can. I can’t just leave her to flounder knowing she needs support, to focus on my assignment instead.
“He was way out of line,” I say simply, forcing myself to calm so that I don’t scare her.
“I can handle it.”
I glance at Malia again. She’s trying to be tough. I want to say that she doesn’t need to be, so that I can wrap her in my arms and be her strength instead.
“With all due respect, you can’t, little lady,” I tell her softly, but she still scowls at me. “You were really upset in there, rightly so, but st—”
“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me!” she exclaims. It takes me aback, her sudden show of fire. Maybe she should have stormed to the front of the class and shouted at the prof, instead of me.
“Look, I was just sticking up for you in there. I think he was out of order,” I insist.
“I didn’t ask you to! I don’t need sticking up for. I’ve got this!”
“No, you don’t! You ran from the room crying!”
She slams her palm into my chest and I grab her tiny hand in both of mine. She pulls away at the contact and the earbuds I gave her drop into my open palm.
“I don’t need anything from you.”
“Yeah?” I challenge, stepping into her space and causing her to back up. I follow, encroaching on her personal space. Her back hits the wall and I cage her in, putting my hands against the plaster on either side of her head. I lean in close and she has to tilt her head right back to meet my gaze. Fuck she’s so tiny. My dick stirs at the fire in her eyes. She’s a little firecracker. Which is why I hate seeing her so beaten down by the prof. I’d rather press her buttons now, poke her to make her mad and get a reaction, because I prefer the spark in her eyes and the fire in her belly to her silent tears and shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can see that.”
Her breathing is so laboured her chest is heaving. Even in her modest tank top, I can see the tops of her breasts rising and falling. With every breath I feel the heat of her against my skin, I’m standing that close to her. I lean down, down, down, fully focused on her lips.
Suddenly I’m parched and I’m dying for a taste of her. Only she can quench my thirst.
And I’m sure she’s looking back at me the exact same way, coming up, up, up to meet me on her tiptoes.
I swear the lights all along the hallway get brighter as time stands still and we hesitate on the precipice, neither making the first move. The tension in the air thickens and I snap.
Somewhere along the corridor a bulb blows.
It’s a violent clash of wills; I don’t know who moved first but our tongues battle for dominance. I groan and press my entire body against hers, showing her how crazy she makes me as I mould every hard pane of my flesh against every soft one of hers.
Glass shatters over my shoulder but I don’t even flinch. Armageddon could happen right now and it wouldn’t draw me away from her. Even the four horsemen of the apocalypse and the devil himself couldn’t drag me from her lips.
She tastes of strawberries and darkness and I fucking love it. My hand fists roughly in her hair and she moans into my mouth. My cock throbs between us. I redouble my efforts, kissing the shit out of her, a promise of what’s to come if I can just get her out of this damn hallway.
The lights flicker and surge.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” An irate voice fills the space and we jump apart guiltily. We’re both staring at one another, breathing hard. Fuck. I can barely breathe at all. I’m out of my mind with how much I want this girl and it’s more than just physical, even if my dick throbs so bad it hurts.
“What the fuck is this, Bhodi?” The prof’s harsh tone makes me wince and I take a step back from Malia. My intent is to protect her but her eyes flash with hurt when I move.
