<MILAN, ITALY>
Saturday, September 5 4:00pmI was almost done packing. I packed all the shoes, clothes, and accessories I was taking. I'm still going to keep some of my belongings here in case I come and stay for the night.
I heard my door opening thinking it was my mom I turned around but It wasn't my mom.
It was Aleksander.
He hasn't been at the house for two days. After the dinner he stormed out of the house and was gone and no one could reach him, not even his dad or mom.
He looked at me with a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes and continued to pack. He walked up to me gripping my waist pulling me to him, making me feel him. Damn, why is he hard?
"What do you want, Aleksander?" I asked.
"You to stop packing and to get on all fours" He said and I could feel the tension of his smirk.
I gave him a disgusted face, "no" is all that I said.
"No?" He questions, getting closer to where my chest is touching his upper stomach "I think you meant yes" He whispered. "No I mean no I don't wanna have sex with you" I said bluntly.
"Seriously we have been fucking and just out of the blue the answer is no I thou-" I cutted him off immediately.
"Remeber I'm just a fuck" I said and his face softens for a quick second before his face goes back to his original emotionless face.He doesn't care for anyone's feelings.
He only cares about himself.
Always has, always will.
"So what your just a fuck you didn't think thos was going anywhere did you let's be for real we dated and you cheated on my and now were enemies there's no going back" He said and I digged my nails into my palm feeling anger heat up in my body.
"You basically called me your own personal prositute" I said and he scoffed.
"Unbelievable"
"Don't treat me like one of them," I started "Because I'm not" I said, letting my hands fall to my side. "Well your not going to be anything more than a fuck to me"
Ouch, that hurts.
I felt my eyes burn with tears and I stormed out of the room before he could see my face. I grabbed my keys and phone before running out of the door. I started speeding down the street while tears slid down my cheeks.
Fuck I hate crying.
Why am I crying for him?
I hate him.
I fucking hate him.
I'm never letting him touch me.
• Short chapter, my bad
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Word count: 466
Next update: August 5th
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A dangerous game
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