He was beautiful in the way only rose-colored glasses could depict him. And I hated him for it. If I could, I would throw him off a cliff and rid me of the torture.
Instead. I found myself tumbling out of coat cupboards and kitchen pantries at house parties. Locked in his arms, hooded desire mirrored on our faces. The way he smiled at me. From the corner of his lips, as though he was whispering me a secret from meters away. What a dirty, clever mouth.
I wanted to tear myself away. To return to my safer life. Black and white thoughts and easy choices. How dare he send me coded notes to secluded spots. How dare my treacherous heart meet him every time. Matching beat for every frantic beat of his heart.
We had not known at first of course. We had been two university students studying law. As both our parents had wished. I, to obey and learn it. He, to manipulate and gain from it. A single smile flashed between us as first-years. A glint of gold in a river.
The smile grew into a nod as we passed each other. The nod grew into silent conversations. The conversations led to… well, broom cupboard make-out sessions. He had led me, hand in hand to a deserted classroom. All it took was one look, one glance. And in one movement we crashed into each other. The heated link between us was snapped and replaced with a hunger that purred with every kiss, every stroke. Weeks later, I knelt between his legs in a supply cupboard, my hands raking up his naked brown chest in possessive strokes. I learnt his name. And with it our world cracked.
He was the son of a super villain. I, a superhero.
We were born enemies. Sworn enemies.
I remember the fear I saw in his body, flashing in his eyes. Not of his father. But of me. He had feared me. What I would do? How I would use this information against him?
But my skin was flushed crimson from the kisses he had run up my neck. My hands shook to touch him. To kiss him. To sooth him. So, I broke the moment of uncertainty with a single kiss on the side of his jaw. And he turned his face to catch my lips.
“This isn’t… work,” he had drawled into my mouth, eyes flicking up to mine, “this is play.”
“Play.” I had agreed, reaching up to press my hand against his cheek. He had leaned into it. Even our skin betrayed me, my hand stark white against the beautiful dark of him. This close I could see the golden irises, the hawk like nose. The vulnerability in his confidence.
How dare our love warm me until it burned. Hurt.
And despite the risks, the carefully laid plans in case it got out. The pain of lying to my parents.
I wholeheartedly dived into it, reveling in him as much as he did me.
And now, watching our parents go toe to toe on the roof of a hotel, we watched our façade hit the road. 342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡDIbUQ5RFI1
I passed him the binoculars, sitting in the back of a pickup truck. He sighed, pulling me closer as we waited for the sign of backup from either hero or villain. 342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiwnZjYixvV
He looked at me, my eyes barely able to see him in the dark. And he gave me a smile, at odds with his usual cocksure attitude. 342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeS7XiXUFsV
"Don't worry," he said, his eyes full of stars, "you're worth the fall." 342Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkBZr4oafX7
