Say You Hate Me

sour patch kids

"Since when do you like fucking sour patch kids and apple juice? Did Elsie take over your soul?" Aaron chuckled as I placed the large bottle of apple juice and sour patch kids packet beside the till and payed the amount.

I don't fucking like sour patch kids. Or apple juice. Fuck no. But yeah, Elsie does. It's been three weeks. Three fucking weeks. She can barely look at me, it's like every time she even gets a glimpse of me all she thinks is murderer.

I don't care what people think, I never have and never will, but this is Elsie.

She's not just anyone, she's different. It physically pains me when I see the fear that flashed through her eyes. She really was scared of me.

Fear. The look on her face haunted me. Fear was the renowned building block to being a successful mafia don. It was a powerful emotion that if applied correctly could make or break any situation.

I've seen hundreds of pervert bastards stare at me, absolutely petrified. Yet, when there was merely a glimmer of horror in Elsie's eyes, I was recklessly ignoring my father's calls and skipping missions.

"Piss off," i grunt in response as Aaron gives me a playful shrug.

The cafe. The toilets. she had avoided me like the plague in school as promised and I loathed it. I couldn't even work out why. I suppose I missed annoying her; it had almost become routine for me to share a snarky insult or two. And now, it was like a piece of the puzzle was missing.

She could barely look at me in the women's toilets. Her eyes were trained on the polished floor like it was the most interesting thing she'd ever laid eyes on. Annoyance drills through my veins.

She couldn't even look at me.

But then she did.

Shit, it felt good to look at those emerald eyes again.

"Is the Grayson Lorenzo daydreaming?! Whatcha thinking about?" Aaron grinned, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I'm not fucking day dreaming," i growl and he laughs.

...

I push the door open slowly, peaking my head around to see if she was there.

She wasn't. She avoids our room almost as much as she avoids me. So that's basically constantly. Fucking annoying.

I don't even know what I'm doing or why I bought all this stupid shit. I'm going crazy.

I approach her neatly dressed bed, positioning the sour patch kids and apple juice on the bed. I had also bought fucking flowers earlier. Fucking hell.

Once I was happy enough with how my display looked I wrote

'I miss your annoying voice. Talk to me sweetheart.'

On a ripped piece of paper from one of my books, placing the note down beside the gifts.

all I could do was try?

I stare at her bed longingly for a few minutes, inhaling the vanilla scent that surrounded it. I hated vanilla. The ice cream, cakes, everything vanilla really. But fuck, I love Elsie's vanilla.

The way it tickles my nostrils and softens my anger.

I slam the door on my way out, bumping into a small frame that goes toppling forward. Shock propels my arms forward to catch the tiny human in front of me. As she collapses into my arms I get a rush of that goddamn vanilla.

Elsie.

"Ah shit!" She yells as she clutches her face in fear, her cheeks a perfect rosy shade. She glances up at me appreciatively before seeing who I actually am. Her face falls into an annoyed groan.

Glad to know she's happy to see me.

She rolls her eyes and catapults herself out of my arms, stumbling onto her feet.

"No thanks for saving your pretty ass?" I murmur, a smirk teasing my lips.

"No," she smiles sarcastically, "murderers like you don't get thanks."

She gives me another dazed look, almost trying to convince herself of what she was saying. Although, she seemed pretty sure of it when she said it. Her words trickled into my system like venom, clawing at me and getting on my nerves. I bought her all that stuff as well.

I give her a glare, analysing her face. I had the urge to count every single one of those freckles peppered across her small nose and cheeks. She gives me yet another roll of her eyes and I feel my pants tighten. I shove past her, aiming for the nearest toilet to sort out my situation.

I hear her scoff behind me before pushing open the door. Hope she enjoys the gifts, fucking pain in my ass.

...

A week later

It's been a fucking lifetime since I've teased Elsie, or even pissed her off. I can't process properly. I had quit smoking but this past week I've found myself on the roofs with a cig more than ever before.

Tonight, I'm here again. The brisk night air, the dark sky, the stars. As winter approached rapidly, i lived for the pitch black skies earlier in the afternoon.

I removed the cigarette from my lips, tilted my head back and blew out some smoke, sighing peacefully.

Thoughts about Elsie danced through my mind.

She'd been wearing this new pyjama tank top. It was made of a flimsy, thin material that her nipples poked through.

It'd been difficult to stop myself from ripping the fabric off her body and taking her right there.

The other thoughts filling my brain, were much less enjoyable. Igor had been trying to infiltrate our mafia, sending teams of his Russian dipshits to kill our soldiers or destroy our shit. A sigh erupted from my throat as I scrubbed my face with my palms. Fatigue was dragging my eyelids down and blooming in purple hues beneath my eyes.

I toss the cigarette to the ground carelessly, stomping on it twice before turning to the exit.

I needed that buzz only alcohol can offer. just my luck, Nick had just messaged me the address to some house party.

I guess that's what I'm doing now.

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AUTHORS NOTE!

BORING CHAP IK BUT STUFF PLANNED FOR THE NEXT ONE

IM GOING TO TAKE AROUND 2-3 DAYS TO POST NEW CHAPS

SORRY ITS SLOWER THAN BEFORE

ALSO PLEASE COMMENT, I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE FEEDBACK X

XOXOXOX