Roofers.

20. Punishments: Part 1

Scarlett POV.

I wasn't going to play this game the way he wanted to. I wasn't going to give in. To play nice. I was his fucking dominant for fuck's sake, not his weekend plaything, and he was going to learn the difference the hard way if need be. My anger was justified, I'd given him rules, and he'd broken them without so much as a second thought. 

It's funny really. In fact, it's utterly hilarious. I recalled on last night, for example, at the quake of midnight when he called my phone over and over and over — desperate. I didn't answer. I simply ignored it, cutting my phone off each time it rang. I left all his messages on read, completely shutting him out. I was busy after all; I was busy trying to find other things to occupy my time instead of actually doing my homework.

I walked through the hallways, on my way to my final class for the day. I had masterfully ignored Jules all day; I tried my best to stay productive; to learn to function, even with a disobedient submissive. I was his dominant, not the other way round. I had control, not the other way round. I had to remember this. I had to follow Dante's words of wisdom.

It was working. The talk of the day was that Jules, and the girlfriend were acting rough today. With Jules not being as touchy or as attentive as usual, though, Jenna tried to aggravate it. Some deduced that the whole thing was a consequence of Jenna's constant nagging or something along those lines. If only they knew, huh, Jules?

I spotted Jules as he leaned against his locker, tired-looking and wary eyed as he grabbed books or whatever else he needed from it. He wore an orange hoodie today as if in an attempt to gain my attention; I thought it looked nice. But I kept walking. I refused to let him get to me. He slammed his locker shut, catching some attention from the surrounding students as they rushed to class. He turned around, gripping his backpack as his eyes locked to me. He stopped in his tracks for a second, biting his lower lip with a sense of urgency looming over him. His eyes glazed over with expectancy. I continued to walk passed him, paying no mind to his presence; barely gracing him with so much as a glance.

I was having fun with this. Maybe a little too much.

Later that day, I was at home.

My mom wasn't here, neither was Darnell. They were allegedly in Spain for some sort of business venture, but I could tell by the spontaneous mention that it was most likely a getaway holiday for the two of them.

I didn't really care too much. I liked being home alone; I was alone here most of the time anyway, so this didn't feel too weird. I was in my room, allegedly asleep. Ginger sauntered onto my pillow, pushing her small paws into the bed, and she made herself comfortable. Once again she was my only company. I stared up at my ceiling, still unable to fall asleep within these cold confines of my sheets. Jules was just as stubborn as I was I guess.

A couple moments of eerie silence consumed everything, but it was interrupted by the echoing sound of the doorbell that blasted throughout the house. I ignored it the first time, assuming a kind of natural force had caused it to ring or some type of defect was present. Who came here this late — ever?

As much as I tried to ignore it, the sound persisted. Perhaps there really was someone there. I wasn't a rookie, though; I knew good and well that you don't just walk up to every random who knocks on your door at the late hours of the night. I grabbed an old softball bat, swinging it around aimlessly between my fingers as I made my way down the stairs.

The doorbell rang again.

"I'm coming!" I yelled in annoyance. For shit's sake, whoever it was lacked patience.

I made my way to the door, checking the monitor before I opened. I grinned at the cold and tired looking submissive boy who stood on the other side as he fixed his hair and checked his clothes. I dropped the bat by the door and slowly opened it.