Fuckboys | On Hold

03 | discretion

03

discretion

I SHOULD BE a fucking spy.

Discretion is the keyword - and right now, that's all I am.

Discreetly hiding behind the row of opened lockers, discreetly concealing myself, complete with creeper Ray-Bans and a pink ball cap. I'm even thinking, and breathing discreetly.

I've thought the word discretion so many times, it doesn't even seem like a real word anymore. That's when you know you're being discreet.

From the shelter of my locker, I pretend to be rummaging through my bag. 7:45 - fifteen minutes before the first lesson, the prime time for an appearance from His Majesty.

I look up, and there he is. 

It isn't the first time I've seen him since we've been history. A small school like ours, people are bound to run into each other - but my breath still catches in my throat as I stare.

Brown hair, brown eyes. Striding down the hallways like he's some sort of Armani model, unwavering in his confidence. Running a casual hand through his hair - the hair I used to braid when he laid his head on my lap, looking up at me and the sky in the lazy afternoon sun.

I miss you.

I pretend to be looking at the contents of my bag again as he passes by in a whirl of cologne. 

Withdrawing my hand from my bag after a few seconds, I peer over the top of my locker.

Seth is standing smack dab in front of a classroom door, like he's king of the fucking doorway. But of course, everyone shrinks a little trying to get around him, avoiding him like he's Midas with the touch of gold.

I get it, though.

Seth's the type of intimidating in the way that no one really knows who or what he is. He isn't the traditional bad-boy with a attitude problem, but something better with his honest hazel eyes and messy brown hair. His face isn't all angles and sharpness and danger - it holds a little touch of softness to it, and its the face that makes you think of flowing lines, concrete edges with Picasso's sharpness and Monet's blurriness all fixed into one.

And God, those eyes. Right now, they're fixed onto a burly senior, glittering with mirth as they laugh about something. It's five minutes to first period - Careers - but Seth leans back on the glass walls of the classroom, where everyone inside has their eyes fixed on him.

I curse a little internally as a pretty brunette moves in the way, and I blow out a loud breath, balancing on my tiptoes over the rows of lockers -

Hot breath blows into my ear and I jump back.

"Jesus CHRIST." I clap a hand over my mouth as I stare at Seth in horror. People all around us stare, but one glance from Seth sends them scurrying away.

Wait - fuck, what?

He gives me a little smirk that freezes me in my tracks. His movements are slow and deliberate as he winks, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey, sweet pea. Shouldn't I be the scared one right now?"

His voice is smooth, curling around me. Instinctively, I relax, but I tense right back up when I remember what I'm supposed to be doing.

Get yourself together. I draw in a breath, steadying myself, before I lean forward and trail my finger lightly up the line of his stomach. He sucks in a breath, almost imperceptibly, but I smile anyways."I don't know what you're talking about." I purr, my voice low as I stare up at him, my lashes shielding my eyes.

For a moment, as he looks at me, I think that his gaze swirls with something more than lust. 

But then I remember her hands clawing up his back, those same eyes closed and his head tipped back in ecstasy. 

I take a step back, and his eyes harden. "What do you want, Alessandra? You made it clear that you didn't want anything to do with me."

I choke back an equal mix of laughter and disbelief. "If I recall correctly, sweet pea, you were, miraculously, the one who left me."

He draws out an exasperated breath. "Well, if I recall correctly, I left you because you asked me to."

The red haze of anger clouds my vision, but I shake my head, catching myself. My voice is low when I finally speak. "I'm not here to debate with you about who the blame lies on. To be honest, I don't give a fuck. I just wanted to talk to you - but I see now that you're just not ready for that." I give him a mocking smile. "So good work, Seth. Keep being the little immature baby you've always been."

I turn away from him, ready to leave, but his voice rings out. "So you're happy to leave? To go without a fight, just like before?"

I'm barely thinking when I turn back to him, reach where he's standing in two long strides, and slap him. The sound of it echoes through the empty halls, and there's no doubt that the students inside classrooms can hear it.

My palm throbs as I stare him down, his face shell-shocked and drawn. "Don't you dare tell me that I didn't fight for you. I hope you have a good time lying to Meredith."

And this time, it's me - not him - that gets to walk away.

A/N 

i'm so sorry for the super long wait! i hope it was worth it, though ;) 

leave me some comments/theories about who you think meredith is and what the history between seth & alessandra is and i'll drop some hints for ya <3 

thank you so much for reading, as usual, and i'll have another update real soon! love y'all lots 

mor x