The Hurt Game

❧ five

As I stood in front of the mirror, checking if my outfit was the right choice, bubbles of anticipation grew inside of me. I changed positions every other second, checking to see any mishap in my outfit, a small detail that needed to be fixed.

I took a deep breath. I smoothed my black skirt while facing the mirror. I nodded my head once, exhaling as a small smile appeared on my lips. I was ready.

Let's do this.

My phone buzzed on my desk and I walked over to it, unlocking it only to see a notification of Instagram. Someone had replied to my story. I swiped my thumb across the screen and quickly typed a reply to the person.

With my phone and purse in my right hand and my shoes in my left, I descended the stairs quietly. I left my shoes in the hallway and quickly took a peek in the living room, trying to sense movement in the kitchen. My father was nowhere in sight, nor in hearing distance. Daniela had been out to buy the groceries.

A car door slammed shut faintly. My body went rigid, completely still for a singular moment before it sprung back to life. Nerves erupted in my stomach like fireworks and my heart was beating faster. Taking a deep breath I walked towards the hallway.

The doorbell rung and my heart jumped in my throat for a moment. I stood in front of the door and counted to five in my head before swinging the door.

The first thing I noticed was the familiar, black leather jacket. It must have been his go-to jacket to wear, because I hadn't seen him wearing anything else over the past couples times. Underneath his jacket was a black shirt, but the jewellery he wore, was a contrast to the black. The dog-tag was glistening in the sun, shining brightly and almost blinding me. Another necklace hung around his neck. He was clad in blue jeans and some sneakers. His hands were shoved in the pockets.

Attractive as fuck.

My heart skipped a beat when my eyes met his. As usual a smirk grew on his lips as he stared down at me, eyebrow raised. He looked as smug as ever and he was handsome while doing it, and for that I wanted to curse him.

"You can take a photo if you want," Royden spoke up.

I rolled my eyes at him and took a couple steps back to slip my shoes on. It were simple, plain white sneakers, but they fit with the outfit and they were my favourite pair. I could always walk in them no matter where I went.

"As if you haven't been staring," I replied to him. It were almost the exact same, if not the same words, I had spoken to him almost a week ago. Time had passed quickly between working my shifts, reading and writing, and meeting him at the café to have a coffee and a conversation.

I closed the door behind me after having made sure I had everything with me. Before I could turn around, though, his hands were on my hips. I jumped in his grasp and was rooted in my spot. Royden spun me around, so I faced him and he kept me in place.

His dark eyes seemed to darken even more when they sneaked down my body, checking me out within a second. My breath was knocked out of my lungs with the gentle way he held me and yet the strong spell he had on me.

Being this close to him, I noticed a couple of scars lining his cheekbones. They were all faded, small and almost invisible holes and lines in his skin. Only one seemed to be the most recent of them, for the scar on his jawline was still visible. It was not irritated or red, but it was clearer than any of them. Or it had been a nasty cut and it had healed the best it even could.

How did they get there?

"You look gorgeous," Royden said. His voice was low, a soft rumble that seemed to vibrate through me. My cheeks heated underneath his stare and his compliment. My heart leaped in my chest and my stomach flipped. I bit down on my lip gently and his eyes flickered towards them. "You always are."