Krigare

sex

The storms that gripped London by the balls this time of year were usually pretty mild, but this season around it was plain barmy. The brief sprint from the driveway and up the old granite stairs was enough to have me soaking to the skin, my hair dripping wet.

I continue to ruffle the rain out of my hair as I make my way through the halls, snickering every time someone tsk's as a result of getting sprinkled.

My feet come to a stop once I'm face-to-face with my locker. Completely oblivious to the people who walked about the hall behind me, I hadn't seen the next series of events coming at all.

The next series of events - of the unfortunate variety, just to specify - being the compelling force that gripped me tight, lifted me an entire foot in the air and tossed me across the hallway like I weighed absolutely nothing.

"Ugh," I groan inwardly. My head slams into the fieldstone wall a tad too hard. Thankfully, I had a rather eventful history with sharp blows to the head.

I recoil quickly, rolling over and then making my way to my feet. I make nothing of the surging pain that comes from the back of my skull. Throbbing louder than the sound of my own heart in my ears, it was hard to ignore however. "Nice to see you too, Red."

Under normal circumstances, a circle of overly hormonal teenagers in dire need for girl-on-girl action would have formed, and begun chanting, "Fight! Fight! FIGHT!"

But today it was pouring, the sound of the rain on the frosted glass windows overpowering the redhead's barks, and my sluggish groans.

"Oliver Krigare," she mocks, crackling her pudgy knuckles. "The girl who thinks she's better than everyone else."

I shrug just a wee bit. I would have even smiled if we weren't in a hallway with heavystone walls that could potentially break my face at any given toss. "I mean, I suppose you're not entir-,"

Another blow - to my nose this time. The rocket jab sends me funnelling back.
"You had better learn to keep your damned mouth shut," she hollers, taking big steps towards me.

Although I seemed to be losing, as a result of being caught off guard, I wasn't going to lose the verbal part of this. "Let's agree to dis-,"

Another blow, to my gut. I double over, and begin coughing, careful to make sure I wouldn't end up sputtering blood all over the hallway - again. Sir Cosby would not be pleased.

And another, to my jaw, that I could tell was going to purple up in no time.

And a third - or a fourth? - to my cheekbone, splitting the skin, the cut burning like hell as it grew more and more exposed to the air.
"Reneé!" I hear Avan's voice holler from behind her, apparently mad, and she turns. Thank God for the Andrews.

Instinctively, I begin to wonder if I should just go for her neck the next time she came at me. A big - perhaps even in the literal sense - problem, gone, with a single snap.
One fluid gesture and minimal effort were all it would take.

I'm lunging for her when I feel a pair of soft, yet strong, hands on me. "Don't kill her. Not here," Axelyn's voice whispers, and I shrug her grip off. Her voice has an effect on me that's similar to a siren.

Not here.

"I'll hit you Krigare," Reneé said then with all of her might, conjuring my focus entirely. Avan then gave her a glare of fucking steel, threatening to give her hell if she tried to do anything similar to me. "I'll hit you so damn hard, and when I do, your witty comebacks aren't going to save you. You're going to bleed till you can't anymore."

I simply stare at her as she walks away, her hench-pissholes following close behind.
My gaze then drops to the floor as I take a breather. I'm about to go about looking for Mason when I notice a speck of something on the flooring, ruining the elegant arrangement of the centuries-old stone blocks.