Leaving The Playboy

Leaving The Playboy

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Nov 26, 2017
Then tell me," I shouted at him. "Why Vivian? Why my best friend?" "Please, give me your alcohol," he says calmly reaching for the drink I'm drinking. "It's the alcohol talking. Give it to me, Ana." "It could be Sarah, Jenny... But why my best friend?" I cried out. "Just stop drin...." "Is this because you know I'd be jealous more if you're in a relationship with my best friend?" I said and took more sip of the alcohol. "Well, congratulations, Mark. You just made me jealous... So jealous. I don't even know why I fe..." "You want to know why?" he spoke up. He didn't wait for me to respond. "Because I know it will hurt you the most. Ever since you left, Vivian has always been here. Then there's this one night I was so drunk and looking for you, but no you never came. Instead, Vivian was there. Then we ki..." "Don't say it. Just let me be," I cut him off while poking his hard chest. "Don't let me see you again. I might kill you." "Ana..." I remained still. "I hate you." "I know," he said. "But, Ana.. I..." "I hate that... I love you.. I love you so much," I let it out. "I just love you so much... I want to have you back.. But... It's too late.. I guess karma is a bitch, huh? I just want to tell you... I'm sorry for leaving you... But this revenge? It's too much. You're hurting me too much." He laughed. "And what? You didn't think you hurt me too when you left?" I can now see tears forming from his eyes. "Ana. It took me months to move on over you but... I still can't..." --- Anastasia Taylor: 18 years old; has divorced parents; mother's strict; father wants to get her; was in a bet with the playboy; was in an agreement with the playboy; asked the playboy to be his boyfriend; left the playboy for her father.. ya know what just read it, I'm almost out of limitations.
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He once told me no one knows the real him.I didn't think he meant it, and not in a good way. He is a straight A student, and everyone knows it, not to mention he is on the swim team. All that though isn't the real him, the real him hides deep within himself. ---------- "Can you please tell me what that was?" I nearly shout at him. All I get is silence. He keeps his back to me. "Please, I need some explanation." I beg. I stay still as he stops dead in his tracks. His body is tense and it's scarring me. He turns around slowly to face me with his hands at his sides. His eyes meet mine, but there is no spark of any emotion in them. They are cold and dark making me look away not being able to hold his deadly stare. I feel uneasy under his gaze, and i feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face. "No, I won't explain because it's not important." He says in a low, almost, growl. I flinch and look back into his eyes. I feel hurt by his words and I don't know why, but I know he sees it in my eyes. His faces flashes with regret but it's quickly covered up with his faces going back to it's hard cold look. I feel my heart stop and my face go pale. His look terrified me making me hold my breath. "Breath." He orders. I start to breathe again and just blink at him. "Now go." He orders me again. I flinch involuntarily at his tone and jump back slightly. "Please don't let me walk home alone." I beg in a quiet voice, looking down at my feet. The next thing I see are his black combat boots right in front of my shoes. I look up into his eyes and he looks down into mine confusion written all over his face. "How come you aren't running yet?" He questions searching my eyes. "I just can't walk home alone, please I'm scared." I hear him chuckle. "You aren't afraid of me? What can possibly be scarier than me?" He asks. "Well, I know you will keep me safe." "Why is that?" He questions raising an eyebrow at me. "You haven't hurt me." "Yet." He mutters, but I roll my eyes.

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