Ruin (boyxboy)

Lamb

       (A/N): Still don't own anything :)

        If it looks like a rat, smells like a rat, and talks like a rat, then it’s probably a freaking rat.

-Alan-

        “Name?” The girl at the registration desk didn’t even look up, just paused slightly as his finger hovered over his iPad. I’d woken up at seven so I could make early registration at eight. Tables were lined outside the student center in prison-like fashion, with about twenty upperclassmen with clipboards standing behind each one with bored looks on their faces.

        “Alan.” I answered

The girl looked up with an exasperated look on his face. “There are over eighteen thousand students on this campus, and you want me to look you up by your first name?”

“Sorry. Uh, Alan Ashby is my full name, but I don’t know my uncle could’ve-” I awkwardly stopped after I realized she wasn’t listening anymore.

She typed away before saying “Well Ashby, it looks like you’re registered for nineteen credits and no major” she raised her eyebrows at me.

What was she? A profiler? Jeez.

“Um yeah, that’s right.” I rocked back on my heels.

Her eyes moved quickly across the screen. “Ok, here’s your campus map, mailbox number, student email. Everything you need is in here.” she thrust a enveloped packet into my arms. “If you have any questions, you can ask your RA”.

I hope she meant Resident Advisor, because if she didn’t I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.

“Ma’am, do you know where I can get my student ID?”

“Next!” she shouted.

“Uhm, ma’am?” I tried again.

She turned to face me “I have a line of about a hundred kids. I said if you have any questions, go ask your RA.”

What was her problem? Bitch. This is one of the reasons I don’t like girls.

As I was busy turning around to give her a death glare, I smacked into a tree, or at least what felt like one.

But trees aren’t warm.

And they don’t have one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight? No not eight, but definitely a six pack.

Also, had I been feeling said person’s six pack? Oh dear god, I had been counting. I had touched each muscle. As an added bonus, my hand was still pressed firmly against his abdomen.

I jerked my hand back and squeezed my eyes shut.

I heard a laugh. “Were you just counting my abs?” Oh sweet baby Jesus, his voice sounded like a movie star’s, or a singer’s. The type that makes you want to jump into your TV.

Wow, I had watched too much Netflix back at home.

I bit my lip and thought about what to say. Well, there really was no way out of it.

“Sorry, I jus-”

That is the moment I regret. If I could go back in time, I would have. I had no idea that one look could devastate me. Weeks on, I would regret that look, for one reason only.

His eyes held my ruin.