Forbidden Things || Cobra Kai

33 On My Mind

It was hard to concentrate on anything in the summer sun with a hot girl nearby. It didn't help that they were both sweaty and hot, wiping the perspiration off of their foreheads from time to time, and everytime she did he would watch her. He knew he shouldn't be, it was weird on so many levels, but he couldn't help it. His eyes were drawn to her every time she lifted her arm to her forehead, something about the simple action so graceful and elegant despite the heat and work they were doing.

Demetri was sure it was all some kind of reward and punishment wrapped up in one big bow. A reward for what? he had no idea; a punishment for what? again, he had no clue. All he knew for sure was that the view in front of him was far different than the image in his mind. Entirely different, actually.

Penelope was working on her second car - wax on, wax off - while he was still on his first one. His arms were aching, but not from the waxing alone. Sure, the continuous circular motions were straining, but the real tension came from the night he'd shared with Frankie, who was all he could think about.

When he looked at Penelope, all he saw was Frankie, despite the girls having radically different heights, weights, hair colors and styles. He had to remind himself of where he was and what he was doing, constantly stopping for a water break to cool down. It was why she was so ahead of him and he was so far behind, leading him to do everything in his will power to refocus and complete the task at hand. But as the sweat ran down the side of Penelope's face, all he could see was Frankie on top of him, staring down at him as she wiped away the bead of sweat with her hand, grinning at him like a sex maniac.

He felt perverted. No, he felt extremely perverted.

He was sure something was wrong with him. Fantasies weren't uncommon, but he felt as though he'd given himself whiplash with how fast everything in his mind had progressed. Normal fantasies had turned into fantasies about Frankie, which only evolved when they started sleeping together. Then he'd accidentally let it slip that he'd had those fantasies and she made him share them with her, sometimes leading to her recreate them. It was heavenly.

However, his mind's creativity didn't stop there. While everything else felt like a reward, this was the punishing part; the point at which he felt extremely dirty and it made his gut twist and turn and pull in good and bad ways.

While he couldn't stop thinking of Frankie while looking at his friend Penelope, he was also thinking of her, too. Sometimes he thought of them at the same time, in his bed, doing things he had and had not experienced.

He couldn't deny that at one point, maybe still, that there was some kind of kindling in his chest when he met Penelope. Who wouldn't like her? She was sweet, kind, pretty, among many other things. However, to Demetri it was fairly obvious she did not feel that same first spark. Her eyes were on another, so he didn't add anymore attention to that barely lit fire.

It got squashed by his first kiss, anyway.

Frankie had managed to not only put out that little fire but completely obliterate it.

She was more than fire. Frankie Harris was lightning, a heat and energy so sporadic and intense that it was beautiful in its entirety. When she struck, all he could do was watch; he'd always found lightning strikes to be rather pretty, brightening up the darkened sky for a mere second but it was a stunning display. She was also the thunder and the high winds, encapsulating everything a perfect storm could be.

He'd always liked the rain, too. Though he didn't like to run through it; he didn't like mud or feeling the cold droplets on his skin; he didn't like thinking of the sediments and minerals in the water. He only liked to watch from the window; he liked the downpour and the dark clouds; he liked the aftermath. The evidence that something had happened was incredible to him; how the smell of the air changed, how the sky could either be clear or still overcast; how the leaves had collected their share of the shower. It had always been magical to him.