#BLWCwp
Strawberry Milk
The light breeze of the wind made the hem of Zaanja's mini skirt go up, but she didn't care about it. All she cared about was the strawberry-flavored milk in her hands. The sweet taste it was leaving in her taste buds, and the slurping sound she was making. She weirdly likes the sound of...it. She chuckled at the thought.
She cut class because she was bored, and maybe, she just didn't want to listen to the professor talk about what happened in the past forty-five years of her life instead of discussing how to cut a piece of fabric properly, or how to create a pretty dress in a short amount of time. Honestly, being a fashion design student was a lot more fun than she expected, except for Mrs. Roberts who liked to compare everything to her life. Even with a single needle, she had something to say about it. She and her blockmates had gone through it every single day and Zaanja was starting to get irritated by it. I went there blah blah when I was your age blah blah. Same old stories.
Slurping the strawberry milk loudly, she leaned on the stone table and enjoyed the cloudy day. She liked to romanticize everything because it was fun. She liked imagining that she was living her best life—she was—or thinking that there were no deadlines that were about to rob her of a good night's sleep. Things that made her happy, because school sucked.
She crossed her legs and enjoyed her strawberry milk more. But her phone vibrated in her pocket before she could even finish the last drop.
"Ugh," Zaanja groaned and fished her phone inside the mini skirt's pocket.
"This better be important. I am currently enjoying my stay here at my favorite spot drinking my favorite strawberry milk." She said to the person on the other line. To be more obvious, she slurped on the straw loudly which made the person on the other line chuckle. She huffed. Annoying.
"How does it taste?" His deep husky voice invaded her ears. It made Zaanja bite her lip and cross her legs. As if that weren't enough, she squeezed her thighs tightly. Goodness. There was just something about his taunting voice that made Zaanja's nerves go wild. He was a fucking menace to her lady parts—in a sexual way. If that made sense at all.
"Uncross them, Zaa." He chuckled. Zaanja groaned and looked around. The man knew his effect on her and he was enjoying every single bit of it. That's what he does best. She wasn't even complaining, though.
"Where the heck are you and why can't I see you?" She rolled her eyes and slumped on the bench. Zaanja started to look around the place. All she saw were random strangers walking toward their next class. And a couple who were arguing on the far east of the field. Way to go.
"Walking. Fourth floor, Zaa. Look up." And there, in the hallways, holding his cell phone in his right ear and the other was inside his jean pocket—who was looking at her enjoying the afternoon breeze—was Viol Dominic. His eyes were trained on her, looking so hot and distracting.
The person who'd been invading her mind for five months. Who'd been keeping her busy whenever she was bored, and who'd been making her day more exciting all the damn time. So tall, handsome...and a little bit hers. She smiled at the thought. Hmm. Aside from busy days in Uni, Viol never failed to entertain her in another way. Food trips, long drives in the south, and late-night talks and naughtiness.
She met Viol in a party, which she thought was just a one-night thing but ended up being each other's casual hook-up for five months. Well...if that's what they call our relationship right now. Zaa thought, but this arrangement was far from a hook-up for them.
