[Olivia]
I sit on my bed, writing. Writing my fantasies, about him. He was always at the back of my mind, wherever, whenever, and I hated it. I hated how he could just whirl into my thoughts and I would daydream about him all day long. He walked into my dreams stealthily, because he knew he had my heart. My thoughts were always a frenzy of him. Chestnut curls and berry lips swirled together with emerald coloured irises. He was always there. And he knew it. He loved it.
My fantasies aren't your normal fantasies about unicorns and glitter. About being someone else or hoping to be a princess one day.
They were...sexual fantasies. All about him. But he didn't know, and i never wanted him to find out. Because that would be embarrassing; him finding out that i was sex deluded about him?
I had always tried to stop writing about him. What he did to me, how he made me feel. But my head was always wrapped around him, every single time, I would lose myself in his mesmerising voice, and I couldn't help it. I needed a release.
And those fantasies are what what made me crave him. He was entrancing, captivating me with his delicious, low voice and charming smile.
He knew I was crazy about him, he knew I absolutely wanted him.
But I couldn't have him. Because he was twenty five, and I was only eighteen. And, he was my piano tutor.
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"Olivia! Dinner's ready!" My father shouted up the stairs. I stopped midway, writing, and got up. I closed my book and walked to one of my drawers, opening it and shoving my book underneath the piles of clothes. Nobody could know that I wrote things like this. Making sure it was completely hidden, I went downstairs, seeing my father and Emma, also known as my stepmom, at the dinner table.
I sat down and began eating, both of them looking at me.
"What?" I asked them, my voice muffled by the food.
"Are you going to tell us how school went? And why are you wearing those clothes?" Asked Emma, raising her eyebrow in distaste at me, looking at my clothes. I raised my eyebrow back at her, chewing the remainder of the food in my mouth before deciding to reply to her.
"School went normal, and why are you uncomfortable with my clothes? Last time I checked, I could wear what I wanted to around the house." I replied, looking down at my bubblegum coloured pyjamas that had brown teddy bears on them. She glared at me, her stare making me squirm in my seat.
"Mr Styles is coming, Olivia, remember? He rescheduled your piano lesson to today, and I think you should change into something more appropriate because he will be here in about,'' Father said looking at his watch, "Ten minutes." My eyes nearly popped and my mouth became dry at the mention of Mr Styles. Father looked at me, mentally telling me to go, so I got up, huffing and going back to my room.
Why couldn't I just have my lesson in my pyjamas? I'm sure they would suffice, but then again, it's Mr Styles, so I wanted to look good for him as well. Battling with my conscience internally, I finally changed into something more presentable: some black leggings and a sweater, comfortable and cute. I left my hair in a messy bun and left my face natural. My face was clear anyways, so I didn't really have to do anything to it.
The doorbell rang, and I looked at my clock. Exactly seven pm, on the dot. I smirked to myself.
Perfect timing Mr Styles.
