May Death Do Us Part | RB ✔︎

SNEAK PEEK - DIRTY BLOOD

I look into her eyes.

Deep brown irises surrounding a lifeless black pupil. Her body is draped in a cream colored sheet which hugs her curves. Long blonde hair frames her face and her lips twist into a shy smile.

"Hi," she says softly, her cheeks tinting red.

No.

She was supposed to leave.

I huff, dropping my hand over my face and drawing out an exaggerated groan. Standing to my feet, I make my way around the room in an attempt to find her clothes. I manage to find a black sweater and a pair of leggings.

I toss them to her, tell her to get dressed and get out.

The hurt on her face says enough.

She knows she was just used. She knows it was nothing more to me except a night of euphoria. She knows my reputation. She knows I sleep around. She knows I don't do relationships.

So she doesn't try to fight me. She slides her legs into the stretchy fabric and throws her sweater over her head.

She leaves without another word, but her hair screams sex. Her smudged mascara screams sex. Her lack of shower screams sex.

After Maria leaves, the room feels lighter. There's no weight that comes with the heaviness of another body. There's no stressing about pleasing anyone with my 'disrespectful' nature.

When she leaves, I can breathe. The weight is off my chest. There's no more standards I have to abide by.

I'm not a gentleman.

Nothing about me is gentle. My tone, the way I approach people, sex, the way I let down those who want to be in a relationship with me, those who think they can change me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm respectful. But only when I'm shown respect.

Marla, she was asking me to take her back to my home and show her a good time, so I did.

I pull my black boxers up my thighs, letting them sink low on my hips.

I head for the dresser, pulling out a pair of gray sweatpants and a black shirt, tugging them onto my body.

The sun, just rising, casts a purplish hue over my bedroom. The light is dim and with a mutter beneath my breath, the candles in my room are automatically lit. The sweet smell of pine hits my nose and I sigh, combing a hand through my tussled hair.

I rub at the back of my neck and the door is pushed open by my brother. Mattheo stands in front of me with a look of confusion. A raise a brow at him and he clears his throat.

"What the hall are you wearing?" He asks, crossing his arms.

I examine his outfit, noting that he's wearing the same thing that I am. I furrow my eyebrows and gesture to my outfit.

"Clothes?" I say.

"Yeah, shitty clothes. You're stealing my style, you dick." He grumbles, moving towards my closet and ruffling through the suits hanging there.

"You just called your own style ass." I comment, hearing his huff.

"My sense of fashion is looking homeless. Yours is suits and ties. Don't make it any different." He grumbles in response.

I roll my eyes, yanking my shirt off as he tosses a suit in my direction.

We're leaving for Hogwarts today. It's the last day of winter break, meaning that Matty got back from Novaline's vacation home to pack our bags for going back to school.