[18+ ONGOING]
Josephine Devereaux has spent her entire life wishing she liked change & spontaneity. But when she gets accepted into Southern Chicago U's forensics program, change suddenly isn't so scary. Fast forward two years- she's a junior at the...
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Josie and I had a mutual understanding.
Or at least I hoped it was mutual.
I don't think either of us knew what the fuck was going on between us. But I think we both knew that there was something.
The mutual understanding consisted of her tormenting me and me just taking it because how else was I supposed to stay around her?
I sit on the couch of the girls' apartment next to Blanca. I hold a glass that's half sparkling water and half vodka. It tastes like shit. But god knows I cannot spend any second longer sober.
When I noticed Josie wasn't in the common area, I figured she was getting ready. Then when I saw Calliope skip out of her room, I decided to head over. I'm not sure what possessed me to do that, but I wasn't surprised. Knowing that she would no longer push me away was a dangerous realization that I planned to take full advantage of.
When I reached her room, ready to knock on the already open door just so that I was let in first, I didn't expect to be stopped in my tracks.
God, she was such a fucking sight to look at. Seeing her in clothes that clearly gave her an air of confidence and desirability made me feel weak in my knees. Looking at her physically hurt.
Seeing the reflection of her side profile in the mirror, her features contorted into one of frustration due to the fact that her hair wasn't cooperating, was adorable. Her outfit from the back hugged almost every inch of her upper half, a loose pair of jeans that only fit snugly around her ass accentuating her figure. Her long, golden brown locks were down, and she seemed like the she was trying to tie a bow to hold half of it up. I couldn't help but smile at the fact that whenever I see her, she always has some variation of hair that consists of it half held up.
So I decided to interrupt her struggling to ask if she needed help. And when she turned around, I was ready to just leave the house and never return.
The top she was wearing was one of those types that pushed a girl's tits up in a way that gave an illusion of an hourglass shape. I didn't know what they were called, but I'd seen them enough on girls to get an idea of what their purpose was. But in that moment, I realized that there wasn't a single soul on the fucking planet who should ever wear it again considering Josephine Devereaux most likely blew them all out of the water.
God really wanted to fucking kill me by blessing this girl in every damn way possible.
After I tied the bow, the giddy smile on her face was so electric that I knew I could never go back to a point in time where I wasn't always willing to be at this girl's beck and call. She could tell me to shut the fuck up and go slit my throat for her while wearing that, and I wouldn't even hesitate.
And worst of all, she didn't even realize what she did to me.
Every time she looks at me now, she looks at me as if I'm not real. As if she can't believe that I'm this person now. And while I can't blame her for being skeptical due to our rocky past, it kinda pains me to think that she has trouble believing that I want her.
