Te Quiero
- Reads 194
- Votes 15
- Parts 6
My friends and I were eating here in the cafeteria. As we finished our foods, Nhovie ask me something,
"Chaz? Can you tell me what is your ideal man?"
"Why are you asking that out of the blue?" I raised my brow. She gave me 'just answer it bitch' look. " Okay, well ofcourse he should be handsome, benevolent, adroit, and-"
"Are you describing me fag?" that voice. I know who's the owner of that irritating voice. Kevin Sage Peñarada. That jerk. Feeler.
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Alex, a new student at Breakworth College studying art, struggles with being on time for class. With a lack of friends and no social groups, he finds himself alone and helpless. One encounter after another with Zack, he finds himself debating whether or not Zack is really homophobic and a downright asshole or is trying to hide something about himself; only time will tell. --- I had two options: Say yes or make this situation worse for myself, Deciding on option two, "Zack, you're acting pretty gay for someone who's homophobic," I said slyly. I knew this could only cause him to get angrier, but I knew it was true he was the one who called me a "fag" not even a week ago. "I'm not gay, unlike you; I just know how to get things I want, and you caught my eye. Being my friend is a blessing. You should take the offer," He said, still against my neck. "Aren't you cocky," I replied, trying to stand my ground. Gripping tighter on my waist, he hummed against my ear once again. "I'm getting impatient, Alex. Cut the crap. Say yes already so we can put this past us. I already know I can get you to say Yes," and in a barely audible voice, I heard him say, "I know your weakness". "Now, what weakness could that be-" I didn't even get to finish my sentence before a set of teeth sank into the sensitive flesh of my neck, sending an unexpected wave of pleasure through me. "W-wait, not there. Fine, fine. I'll be your friend. Just stop that shit." Zack paused, his breath hot against my skin as he chuckled. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" His tone was dripping with satisfaction, revelling in his perceived victory. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto mine with a predatory glint. I tried to steady my breathing, my pulse racing from the conflicting sensations. "What is wrong with you?" I muttered, more to myself than to him. The fear and arousal mingled in a way that left me feeling disoriented and vulnerable.
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