Bad Girl In Disguise (SAMPLE) I ✔

E S C A P E

Being tired is part of life. Of course you get tired from time to time since there is no avoiding it. And I have accepted that a long time ago. But honestly, I wish we had unlimited strength and stamina. If I hadn't been so tired, Lucas would be kicked to the next country.

He walks towards me cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal. But the slight fear in the bad boy's eyes says otherwise. He probably feels like he's approaching a raging beast. I glare at him for awhile before giving up and letting him sit beside me.

He looks around the simple room. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of the battered punching bag. I smirk. Good girls don't know how to fight and punch. But bad girls do.

His eyes finally landed on me. He takes in my sweaty and exhausted state. I gulp down the rest of the water in the bottle before throwing it behind my shoulder. It lands on the trash bin I put under the bench. That is literally the only reason I have a trash bin in this room.

"Your hands!" Lucas suddenly said. I look at my bruised and cut up knuckles. They look hideous, which probably means I will need to cover them up for school tomorrow. Lucas takes my hand softly, careful not to touch the bruises. I almost roll my eyes.

"Nothing I never handled before," I say. He goes to the first aid kit lying in the corner of the room and brings it back to me. He takes out bandages and some ointment. 

"Let me help you with that," he says. He takes the ointment and I immediately jerked my hand off his grip. It hurt since some of the cuts brushed against his skin, but I managed not to wince. He looks at me like an adult would to a troublesome kid.

"I don't need help. How the hell are you even in here anyway?" I say, trying to change the subject. He shrugs.

"I followed you from school," he says. My eyes widen a little.

"Stalker much?" I say, a bit creeped out by his action. How did I not notice him following me? I guess my anger blinded me for a second there. I was too much in a rush to get home and get all my pent up rage out. I should be more alert and careful.

"I just wanted you to get home safe," he says softly. For that one second, he looked vulnerable. His shield cracked for just a second, and I could glimpse at the boy inside him. But he mended his cracks quickly and smirks smugly to cover up what he just did.

"I don't need your protection," I almost spat. If I don't know what is happening, I immediately go defensive. It's an instinct in me. And I don't know what the hell is happening now, so my walls are up and guarded.

He chuckled a little, and the sight of his genuine smile almost shocked me. He looked like your typical brooding bad boy. But happiness aparently isn't that foreign to him.

"Everyone says that," he says. But then his voice turned dark and serious as he continues, "She said that."

I tilt my head in confusion. I stare at him with an eyebrow raised. His mask is deteriotating. The sadness. The weakness. All of his feelings on display for a split second.

But then, his smirk returns and it ends.

"Whoever this 'she' is, I think we would be best friends," I say, my tone thoughtful. He laughs before slinging an arm around my shoulder. I slap it off.

"Yeah. I guess so," he said.

:

I sit on the window seat in my room, alone. I finally convinced Lucas to leave me alone and go back home.

It's night already. My room has the best view in the house. I can see the city that seems beneath me. The glimmer of the lights and the cars moving like ants. The city is far from my house, so the people I could see are like specks of dust. I run my finger down the cool glass, pretending I'm in the city.