POV- ASHLIEGH
I walk into English lit and look at Mr. Francis Collins giving me a glare worthy of rotting sunflowers.
What? I'm like one minute late! Huh wateva! I care a damn. I refrained from sticking my tongue out at him and walked to the last bench. I plopped down on the seat and prepared myself for a nap. Well what do I say last night was tiring...well, you know what I mean. It was one hell of a night. Anyway I knew it was Shakespeare today, might as well savour it with my eyes closed. Before I could retire to my beauty sleep, not that I need it, I'm pretty hot without it, but anyways, I am dragged out of my thoughts when the one and only Adonis enters, in that idiotic leather jacket. Da-yum.
And the worst part? The smug bastard knows all the eyes of the girls are trained on him. He arrogantly walks, no wait scratch that, twitches that hell of a sexy ass to the bench beside mine without even considering giving me a look. But why do I care? Wait....hold on what the hell....that motherf*cker wasn't even flustered, after that antic I pulled off in the corridor?
Whatever, I may just have to try a little harder. But how could he not be affected? Well, that's news to me. Hell it worked on all these guys out there. But, yeah Olsen you do know he isn't just any other guy. So I guess that says it all huh!
Sigh. This is gonna be hell lot of a work....
My thoughts were cut off by Mr. Francis's words, "So today is the movie day, more like a educational projection, but I know you kids don't call it that anymore. So let's begin; we're dealing with one of the most unique Shakespeare epic, Taming of the shrew."
As the boring playback began, well no offense but I'm not much of a Shakespeare person so...
Anyways I cleared my desk of all those thick brain twisting things they called books. Don't judge me I do my reading when it's needed, not every day and second of my life. So boo....whoa! WHAT.THE.....
And that's when I feel it.
POV-DAMIAN
All my so called "player" plans begin reflecting in my mind and I hit the bull's eye. I let my hand move in its own accord as it slid into Ashleigh's shirt and let my fingers trace her smooth as silky vanilla skin. I made small circles and smirked at the most surprised gasp I've ever heard not to mention sexy as hell too. I started moving my fingers across her flat abdomen and slid it over her curves, whoa she's got it all right!
Back and forth.....
Back and forth.....
Boy! I could get used to this. My hands moved onto the small of her back and began tracing circles over her spine. Round and round...
I looked at her face to look at the expression I was expecting, confident that I had elicited a response. Well this caught me offgaurd. She just sat there expressionless. Nothing, nothing at all.
Am I dreaming? She's unaffected? She had the most stoic "I-don't-feel-a-thing-this-is -so-boring" look, I'm sure my jaw's on the floor. I thought she'd be all hot and bothered and so wanting to get with it by now.
But how? What is she like iron-man? Wait...more like "iron-woman"
She probably has a female version of Gravis talking to her in her suit. What? I should seriously stop watching superhero movies.
'Is she so insensitive?' my mind desperately asked me or wait...my eyes widen in shock 'am I losing my charm?'
The bell rang and I was still debating with myself when realization hit me that my hand was no longer in her shirt.
And then I smelled that strawberry scent as she walked past me, indifferent to anything that happened. She did not even spare me a glance as she walked away. What? Was I that 'invisible'?
Fucking iron-man
She is definitely a shrew who needs to be tamed... nonetheless she was as smoking hot as a barbecue....well that could be fun, I smirked at my thought, wait what?! No! I guess not, why do I even care!
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Romance"Let's play the PLAYER!" Esthevan said as his smirk grew wider. And I knew we were in trouble. This story is about two people, who barely know each other. But do you know that thing called fate? Yeah, it only pushed them together. Ashleigh Olsen, th...
