m e k h i (incomplete)

f i v e

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f i v e

Amber orbs doesn't move from the male before her, back pressed right into the doorframe with no intention of budging anytime soon. Shock spins her stomach, eyes wide and teeth sinking hard into her lower lip, to stop anymore panicked sounds coming out of herself.

She lets her eyes brush him, bond whispering wicked and cunning words in her ears.

Mekhi was the epitome of a male.

Broad shoulders and chest, chiselled abdomen. Smooth skin, colour the warmest shade of brown, lush and heavenly to the eyes. The black ink painted onto his skin, made for the perfect contrast. Ink dripped from his all of his fingers; his left arm covered in an entire sleeve. He has more, once across his heart, a name she can't quite make out in the dim light, and a few sprawled across the back of his collarbones, some lingering on the base of his neck and drawing up to his neck.

Dark, thick waves of black hair sat, a few sleek strands coveting his eyes. Teal hues were always so intense, so rich in colour and it reminded her of the shallows of the water at it's highest point. They were beautiful.

The male was shattered and broken; it didn't take much to figure that out. She could see it the way his skin beneath his eyes were dark, and the way his face was hollow, little life left in his features.

She found beauty in him, so much that it hurt to look at him.

He was a male, but he was a lycan.

The species intimated her. She just about gotten used to Alden – the male who had been in her classes for the last few weeks. Lycans scared her. They were tall, powerful and scary. The whole Kingdom reeked of lycan, and it made the wolf feel skittish, unnerved.

A maddening red flush strikes her cheek, growing nervous at his nudity. A squeak comes from her lips involuntarily, and her face flares, wanting the ground to swallow her up. Amber dips to her toes, feet curling harder in the carpet, and hair billowing around her.

She won't meet his gaze, a hand curving to the back of her desk chair, where she'd left some washed clothes that had yet to be put away. She always slept in oversized shorts and a bralette. Fingers throw him black material, face still not curving up to him.

He's shuffled into them, clearing his throat between speaking again.

His voice makes her blush even more. It was deep, raspy and rough in a jagged tone. Not close to smooth or perfection. She could listen to it all day.

"I'm sorry," it stuns her.

She didn't get apologies often. Red-lips part in surprise, eyes flittering up to him carefully, hiding behind her hair. The glass of water is set down onto the desk next to her, half of it having spilt out. She keeps her mouth shut tightly.

He clears his throat again, beckoning out to her.

"Your first night here. In the woods-," she grimaces at the memory, rubbing her shoulder and shifting on her feet, refusing to meet teal hues that could break her apart. She didn't want to be broken apart any further. There wasn't anything left.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention. I'm not like that. I'd never do that to any female Not to you. I didn't mean to scare you, I promise," she tucks a curl behind her ear, eyes not lifting.