"You drew stars around my scars, but now I'm bleeding..."
Gaia Ashmore has lived under the radar of her strict mother all her life. Every aspect of her life - from her fashion sense to her career - is controlled by her mother. And even when Gaia mov...
"I'll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush, make you crazy over my touch, but it's just a supercut of us." – Supercut, Lorde
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I HATED HIM to the point of no return because of how easily he made me look like some idiot who had no brains. Sure, he helped me more times than I could remember, but it wasn't like I asked to be helped. If that was the case, I could almost picture myself like a damsel in distress, crying out to him, Oh, I need your help, Ilkay. My femininity cannot handle the depths of struggle in this world. The misogyny is killing me. Rescue me because I'm incapable of anything. Boo-hoo.
I scoffed as I paid for my two books and got them from Greta, who was still too busy ogling at Ilkay through the glass of the shop outside like he was some lottery ticket. Yes, we get it, he's good-looking. I wanted to snap at her. Get over it.
From the moment Greta saw Ilkay, I knew I'd lost the battle of getting the book. It wasn't that he was convincing with his words, but the fact that just his looks alone made her completely forget that I had asked her about them at all. It was infuriating. He was infuriating.
Just as I was about to step away from the counter and run after the villain who stole my book, Greta reached out and held my hand with a suggestive look on her face. I could picture the different things she'd want to say to me after seeing Ilkay. Maybe she wanted his number. Or maybe she wanted to know if he had any older brothers or not. Or maybe she was shipping us together in her world of stories and imaginations - ew.
She looked like she was in her thirties, surely she had better things to do than hit on young university students.
I didn't wait for her to speak first, not only because her next words could be catastrophic, but also because I had a very important book to get back from the dude who just walked out like I hadn't been standing here and arguing in my defence for ages. Before she could say anything, I interjected, "We're supposed to hate him, Greta. He just took the last copy of the book. He's mean."
I shrugged her hand off and walked out of the bookstore. Even the encasing scent of old books and aged ink couldn't calm me down after the bookstore tragedy. I looked around for him; as soon as I spotted him taking his stroll, I followed right after to catch up to him. "Ilkay!"
I ran until I stood right in front of him, not caring about how many eyes turned towards me to catch how awkward I looked running. Wearing a determined look on my face, I met his eyes. He looked careless to my misery, wearing a grey hoodie this time, one that matched his eyes so well. Too well. Not that I was checking him out or anything.
