Porcelain

So, There's This Guy And He Might Want To Kill Me...Long Story.

Michael dropped me off at home and Malala's body tensed the second we met the doorway. I laid my hand on her head, not only for her assurance, but for mine as well.

"Thanks.", I told Michael.

"I'll see you around?" he asked.

"Give it a few days. I call you; don't call me."

He laughed, and drove off. After making sure he was really gone, I took a deep breath.

Quickly drawing a knife from my boot (I was surprised Michael hadn't noticed the secret sheaths in my shoes. So much for being a top notch agent), I unlocked the door. The alarm didn't go off, which did not surprise me. After all, someone had managed to get into my house; the alarm would be off.

Malala growled and I could see a figure of some sort sitting at my kitchen table. I closed my door, locking it, and aimed my sights on the intruder.

From his build, it was obvious it was a male, and my mind tried to match the build with anyone I knew. Fortunately, it wasn't James. Unfortunately, I had no idea who the hell was in my house.

I approached him slowly, my hand twitching to throw the dagger already.

Malala gave a whine, and I threw the dagger at the pitiful sound. He had broken into my house, so I didn't really need to give him an excuse.

Surprisingly, he caught the knife by its blade, his head not even turning to look at it. I clenched my fists angrily, wanting to know who this son of a bitch was.

It didn't help that he was looking through my laptop as if it was normal for me to walk home to that.

My body was tense, ready to pounce at the mysterious guy, when he stood up from the chair and approached me. And then, I became confused.

He was...admittedly gorgeous. He had dark amber eyes that were hooded by his long eyelashes. His hair was black and his mouth was full. He had a beautiful jawline, and I was tempted to reach my hand out to touch it. He must have been a foot taller than me, and I could see muscles underneath his black shirt.

My mind was on overdrive because of my immediate attraction to this man, and yet, my body was still tensed, prepared for a fight. And this was why I was confused.

Malala snapped me out of it, growling. I sucked in a hormone-filled breath.

But, holy crap, was this guy hot.

He slowly moved his hand towards me, and without really thinking (because if I had thought, I would not have attempted to hurt someone so freaking gorgeous to begin with; I'm shallow, okay?), I swiftly blocked his movement, and moved my other hand to punch at his crotch.

He blocked it, smirking, and I, frustrated, tried to kick his legs out from under him.

He dodged it, and we went into a dance of sorts, throwing and kicking and blocking and dodging. I had never sparred like this with anyone, and although it was entertaining, it was also irritating.

It had come to the point where he had actually grabbed my waist to flip me over his shoulder midway into a kick that I questioned our actions.

"Who are you?" I asked, a little out-of-breath from what had taken place.

His hands were still on my waist, and he raised a brow. I was extremely aware of the warmth radiating from his hands, and I wondered if it would be wrong to strip him down. And then, I wondered who I really was in this moment.

"You don't remember me?" he replied, his voice a mellow husk. Please, darling, I would never forget someone like you.

God, I was horrible with a pretty face. I'm surprised I didn't bed Michael when we first met; I'm shameless.

I shook my head, carrying on the conversation outside of my mind. He frowned, and I felt horrible for erasing the smirk off this man's face.

"You don't remember stabbing my brother in the crotch?" he asked. "Killing my sister with your carelessness?"

Immediately, I ripped myself away from him (even though a part of me wanted to be okay with dying in this guy's arms), and Malala circled him, ready to rip him apart.

"James' brother? But I've never-"

The boy.

"You were there." Awe and fear in my voice, I backed away, getting ready to fight for my life.

"Sh...", he said gently. "I'm not here to harm you."

I wasn't that attracted that I would believe him, and so I didn't. Malala snapped at him, her eyes flashing.

"I'm sorry.", I whispered. "I never meant..."

He approached me cautiously, ever so gently. I let him wipe the tears off my face, and he held my head comfortingly, as I balanced my confused and sorrowful state.

"Don't be. James deserved it.", he said, almost to himself. "Let's get you calmed down, and I'll explain everything."

Thanks for reading!

I might get weird looks about the whole Taylor Lautner thing, but he was the first one that really matched the description when I had written this guy out. I released his name earlier than the chapter, but it's no big deal. I'll be updating on Friday, so keep a look out.

Vote, comment, share, etc.

Thanks!

~Amira.