Professor Sebastian Jones - Is It Love? Fan-fiction by SW

Chapter 67 - Trying to read some minds

As Nicolae will take care of Lorie, I take this time to unpack a big box of stuff that Igor Bolshoyev has shipped to me with the things I had left behind in my old apartment in Ireland. He has taken the responsibility to clear and put it for rent in my behalf, as I was in a rush to arrive in Mystery Spell as my classes at the University were about to start and because I didn't have mind either due to the death of granny. I kneel beside the box, and I begin to search for something in especial.

There are some old books of magic and recipes as well that belonged to my grandmother. She wasn't only a great and powerful druidess, she was also an excellent cook, and she always had guests at our home for dinner and to discuss politics. And, as always, I didn't attend these gatherings because I was always out with my vampire friends, drinking in the pubs, and racing illegally. I smile bitterly reminding these things.

I continue revolving what's inside the box. There are some photo frames with pictures from a happy life that doesn't belong to me anymore. I'm not that naive little girl there, that didn't know, at that time, that I was taken from my parents by force and lied on my entire life of whom I am and what other powers and abilities I must have inborn but that are still dormant in me. I look deeply into one of the photos. In the frame, my grandmother is pushing me on the swing on a sunny day of summer in one of the parks of our little town. I raise an enquiring eyebrow and sigh thoughtful.

"Who am I?"

I put down the photo frame and continue to revolve the box. One thing makes me smile broadly. It's a small plush unicorn that one of my vampire ex-boyfriends had given me a long time ago. The memories that surround Thomas are always sweet and light, even with his dark past and tormented soul of someone who was on the verge of taking his life when Viktor Bartholy met and deluded and attached him to an eternal life of sorrow.

Thomas is the type of guy that is so sweet, a real darling! He was always available to me and always had a word of comfort when I had my Homeric clashes with my grandmother. The day Thomas has given me the plush is still vivid in my memory. We were hugging and kissing in his car. The temperature was skyrocketing and the windows getting blurred. Impatiently, I started removing his white T-Shirt. He did the same with my black crop that flew fast somewhere on the backseats. When I put my hand on his trousers to open it while kissing him passionately, I noticed something more prominent than the usual between his legs. I stopped immediately what I was doing and looked at him with curiosity. Thomas burst into laughter. With all making up, he had forgotten my gift. He opened the zipper of his trousers and pulled a small plush unicorn from inside of it.

Thomas: It's for you, Khawla. To you always remember who you are.

I got the unicorn, and I answered him ironically, moving my gray-blue eyes from the plush to his piercing hazelnut eyes, and back to the plush, and back to him.

Khawla: An unicorn?! Come on, Thomas! I'm not a unicorn!

Thomas bent forward and passed his lips feathery on mines, while his hand went to the buttons of my black jeans to unbutton it. Then, he slid his fingers deep inside my wet and welcoming pussy and answered me in a sensual voice while twirling his fingers inside of me driving me insane and getting little moans of pleasure from my mouth.

Thomas: No. But you're a mythological creature, just as the unicorn is. So, remember that always, you aren't an ordinary person in no meaning of the word ordinary. You're simply astonishing, Khawla. Because of this, I love you. I love you so much...

I let out a long bitter sigh remembering this. And, until today, I don't know what has made Thomas broke up with me. It was all of a sudden, when our relationship was at its peak. Maybe he had realized that I only liked him and that I didn't feel in the same way he felt, and he got afraid of ending up with his heart broken. And, for sure, I would break his heart at some point.