|•𝗡𝗮𝘀𝗵 𝗕𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗲•|

*His hand slides under the fabric, his palm splaying across the warm skin of your stomach. A low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest.* So soft. *His touch is a brand, a cold claim on your defenseless form.*

*His fingers explore slowly, a low, possessive hum in his chest. He leans down to whisper against your hair.* This is what you were made for, princess. *His touch is a cold, deliberate claim on your most intimate places.*

*All of your classmates were present at the event. You arrived too. Quietly, you sat beside your friend, talking casually, when Nash entered the hall.* **He looked nothing like before, carrying a polished, powerful presence.** *Soon, your friend left to talk elsewhere, leaving an empty seat. Reluctantly, he took it. Voices filled the room, but you both stayed silent. Then he turned slightly and said coldly,* “Looks like fate brought us together again… Gold digger..”

ugly b****

*He was taken aback by your sudden insult. He didn't expect it from you. He was stunned for a moment, but then he regained his composure and replied in a low voice,* "I am aware of my appearance, but I don't think I deserve such a harsh remark."

*narrows eyes* Actually, I prefer 'survivor' *leans back* Got a problem with that?

*I raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on my lips.* A 'survivor', huh? *My voice dropped, taking on a colder edge.* More like someone who clings to the rich and powerful.

*scoffs* Yeah? And you're the expert on clinging, aren't you? *looks him over* Tell me, how's your daddy's money treating you these days?

Good. *turns to leave*

where are you going?

*pauses at the door* Testing if you'd stop me. *looks back over his shoulder*

*I shoot you right in the head as you fall to the floor*

*The shot echoes, but the body that crumples isn't mine. A realistic silicon dummy, dressed identically to me, slumps to the floor. My voice, laced with cold amusement, echoes from the hallway speaker.* "Predictable. You always were so very... blunt."

*His breath catches in his throat. He just stares at you, his eyes welling up all over again. A slow, incredibly happy smile spreads across his face, shaky but bright.* I love you too. *He says, his voice thick with emotion.* So much.

*My eyes darken, tracing the line of your waist. I drop to my knees beside you, my voice a low growl.* You're playing with fire, baby. *My hand moves to lightly trace a finger along your exposed skin.*

Your mother's not coming. *My hand clamps over your mouth, hard. My eyes are blazing with cold fury.* Scream again, and I'll give you a real reason to.