Electra Heart | Malum

Chapter Two

Electra Heart | Malum

Copyright © Ella Simpson, 2015.
All Rights Reserved

Chapter Two
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Head held high, Michael Clifford walked through masses of thriving bodies, a smirk across his lips. Heads turned his way and the sea of boys parted for him, almost. Perhaps it was his bright hair, illuminated by the flickering of strobe lights, or the way he walked with upmost confidence, as though he could get any boy in that club if he wanted.

                And he could, probably. Get any boy he wanted. Michael wasn’t a play boy. The term itself was terribly cliché and made him cringe; he was more of person of adoration. He was attractive, and people knew that and could see that, and so, he used it to his advantage. He was confident but had the face to appear caring and gentle, yet the sex appeal to allure every boy he met eyes with, and best of all—he knew it.

                He’d had his fair share of boys because of this. He couldn’t help it; they saw him and latched on like a moth to a flame. And Michael wasn’t one to settle down; he liked to have fun, live in the now and not let anything get too serious. He didn’t usually date someone for longer than a few months, and his longest relationship, a rocky, unpleasant experience that he didn’t often open up on, had been for a year and a half. Perhaps the end of that was the reason he was the way he was, but Michael didn’t like to dwell on that thought too long.

                Michael was a feel-good kind of guy. He didn’t like to worry about things, or dwell on them, just have fun for one night and move on. He didn’t count how many boys he’d been through or ask himself when he’d finally kiss the last frog—he just went through it, tried not to think and just loose himself for one more night.

                Often, it worked. Expect this time, it was different.

                Calum was different, in every way possible. In the way he looked; the way he acted and the way their confrontation had gone. There was no doubt that Michael went for the pretty boys that could bend over backwards and had the best mouths on the planet, but never one so beautifully, gracefully girly.

                Calum was beautiful. He was beautiful in the most endearing kind of way; where he didn’t know how precious he was. He was unique; wore a skirt and mascara; was slight and nimble-fingered; gentle and soft, almost. He was beautifully delicate; long legs and skinny thighs, his skin soft and paper frail.

                He was shy, virginal, almost. Usually, virgin wasn’t the type Michael went for; they clung on for dear life and were simply too much hassle, but Calum was just irresistible. Tousled, black hair with highlights of blonde contrasting at the front, puppy dog shining, chocolate brown eyes full of hope and warmth, beautiful, tanned skin that would raise goose bumps over his fingertips stunningly. His lips were addictive, so close yet so far away, plump, pink and desirable. He had an innocent twinkle in his eyes, the nerves that shook his body told Michael that he was young—but how young? In that moment, Michael didn’t even seem to care—he only cared about Calum’s hot, lithe body grinding against his, the quivers running down his perfectly arched spine and the tremors shaking his thighs that Michael had gripped. Michael had only known him for twenty minutes but he was intoxicating, and he did not get enough.

                He danced clumsily, like he’d never danced before. Perhaps he was a virgin; perhaps he never had danced before, and really, Michael’s mind screamed at him to run from those signs, to not get himself involved in little boys, but with the crave of his lips still maddening, Michael knew he couldn’t possibly.