𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧

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Blaire 》

As soon as we get to his house, he plops down on the couch. Blood stained, bruised eyes and cheekbone. His nose wasn't broken, sadly, but it was in bad shape. Though he rests on the couch with all his bloody glory. "Oh hell no." I fold my arms over my chest, scolding him to relieve my own anger at the world. "Go wash up the blood or take a shower. Do you really want to risk the chance of anyone living here getting AIDS from you?"

He turns hid head slowly, giving me a lazy smile, arms resting behind his head. "I like it when you're salty. And no," He sniffles, face cringing afterward. "getting AIDS -I think- requires having an open wound. And I don't bite." He smirks, his eyes daring. "at least not that hard."

I swallow back the puke rising in my throat.

I roll my eyes, walking away from him. "You're impossible." I grumble, walking to the kitchen sink and rinsing my bloody hands. Then drying them from the towel on the rack. I hear him hum, as if thinking about something annoying. "I'm only impossible when you're being a smartass." His voice keeps getting louder, as if he's walking around. But I didn't expect him to be right behind me when I turned around, making me gasp quietly.

I place my hands on my hips, scowling at him whilst pressing my butt into the sink to get as much space away as possible. "Being correct doesn't mean you're outsmarting and/or bloating." I point a sharp finger at his chest, but It's nowhere near the hardness or Levi's. "You just need some knowledge in your hollow head." I knock on his head twice. He just watches me with a satisfaction, as if he foresaw this conversation from miles away. His beaten up face with that pleased one he's got is not the most charming thing I've seen. Not charming at all. He looks like an ogre. A purple one with all those bruises. I sigh when I see he isn't going to say anything back, hanging the kitchen towel on his shoulder before walking away.

Three seconds pass before I shriek and my fight or flight instincts kick in. I feel him grab my hand and twirling me twice. I catch myself grabbing his shoulders to steady myself. But when I realize he'd brought his face closer to mine. So, I take a good two steps away from him, bumping into the counter behind me, yet again.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my breath getting caught in my throat in panic when he starts to walk closer. He leans in, his mouth next to my ear. "I know what this is missing." His voice was low. I grip the edges of the counter until my knuckles turn white. "Personal space?" I laugh, more for the sake of my wellbeing than humour.

He lowers his head to rest in the crook of my neck, hands feeling my back up. I internally gag at the feeling, nowhere near Levi'stouch and everything i dont want to feel right now. He chuckles lightly. "No." I feel him shake his head. "Music. I'm sure you like that, hmm?"

Any other day, I'm a sucker for music. But with him like this, I feel harassed more than anything. "I'm not sure. I don't feel like doing anything really." I laugh again. It's all I can do, laugh about this while trying not to appear too repulsed. "What about just watching a movie and eating popcorn. Only you have one bowl and I'll have another?" His hand finds my bandage, lingering there as if he's checking what it is as my request falls upon deaf ears. Once it's confirmed that it's a wound, he applies pressure on it with his nails.

It catches me off guard, making me flinch forward and hiss in pain, back now steel rod and my chest pressing into his own. I accidentally moan roughly in pain as I try to fight him off, that's exactly what he wants. "Stop, please." I plead, gritting my teeth with my eyes squeezed shut as my eyes burn with tears. "Wrong word." He sounds turned on by this. Like he was feeling good while causing me pain.

He starts to kiss my neck while breathing deeply. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as his hands start exploring my skin with disgusting hunger.