Requested by: InSaNiTyOtAkUeVe
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He seemed to detest you. Well, if his incessant tormenting was anything to attest to. It often made you question whether loving him made you a masochist.
Your phone was your safe-haven; a place you turned to when you had no-one else. You often stayed up on it all night, just so that you wouldn't dream. Your dreams had been nothing but torturous ever since the devil began bullying you.
He appeared to relish in your pain; he crushed your hopes; undermined your achievements; ridiculed you opinions. He truly was the worst type of person.
Although, despite not getting anywhere near the recommended amount of sleep, you were still one of the top performers in your class, constantly getting As in all your tests.
Yet...somehow you found yourself falling deeper in love with him the more your school life progressed. He was to blame for your insomnia, and your reclusive personality.
"Hey (Y/n), texting your boyfriend?" Karma jeered.
"Oh wait, you don't have one. You know, you'll never make friends if you're always glued to your phone." He mocked.
You knew he was waiting for a response – something to indicate that he had been heard. In spite of acknowledging his desires, not once did you look up from your phone screen. You had long decided that you were much safer online. You heard a growl, presuming that being ignored was offending him greatly.
Good.
That was how it felt.
In what you regarded with malignant spite as the very worst thing that could have possibly happened to you, though most commonly referred to as 'the heat of the moment', your cellular device, sorry – your life – was ripped from your hands and tossed to the ground with ferocity.
A horrified gasp tore out of your throat as you fought to hold back the tears threatening to stain your features. Your face was a disorganised contortion of emotions.
You could feel a wild conniption.
Snapping, red-faced and bursting at the seams with vexation, you slapped Karma across the face as hard as you could, leaving in your wake a mark nearly the same colour as his hair. He stood rooted to the spot, beyond perplexed. His eyes were wide and he was looking at you with undiluted shock.
For a brief minute, he got a sense of trepidation.
When he recollected his thoughts, he smirked, grabbing a tuft of your hair roughly.
"Ah!" You cried, struggling.
"Do you really think I'd let you go after what you just did?" He questioned rhetorically.
You snarled at the red head, and got an amused fit of laughter in response. Placing his free hand on the back of your neck, he leaned in to whisper in your ear.
"I didn't think you had the guts."
Tightening his hold on your (h/c) locks, he proceeded to force his lips on to yours, smirking when he felt you gasp. This gave him chance to immediately push his tongue into your mouth, exploring the unfamiliar territory. The speculation that this might be your first kiss flitted through his mind, but he simply continued abusing your mouth.
Unintentionally, you moaned into his mouth, cheeks flushed. When the need for air became too great, he broke the kiss, watching as a string of saliva reminded you that this had indeed happened.
He wiped the sides of your mouth, opting then to leave you with your broken phone, now lying forgotten on the floor nearby.
As he turned the corner, he twisted his head back in your direction.
"You should defy me more often."
