"I miss you," Zac says, looking into my eyes. His eyes are an icy-blue. When I look at his frozen irises, I always feel an electrical chill running down my spine and my breathing stops. I could get lost into his eyes forever. God help me.
I miss you.
"Improve your aim next time," I retort, rolling my plain brown eyes. There's no way I'm going to fall for his lies again.
Zac steps closer to me, making goosebumps trail my skin, as he holds my gaze intently. "I'm serious. I really miss you, Lia," he says softly, reaching for my hands.
My heart races furiously when he says my name with his silky voice. I feel butterflies in my stomach and my entire body trembles at his touch. I hate the way he's making me feel without even trying.
I really miss you.
Immediately, I move my hands away. "I have to go now, but I hope I run into you one day... with my car," I say coldly. I can't let him see the effect he has on me.
Before I can leave, Zac holds onto my arm with a tight grip. My heart is fluttering again and my mind is racing with infinite thoughts. I feel my palms getting sweaty and my body is tingling from his touch. Why did my stupid body enjoy his touch so much?
"I was an idiot. I'm sorry," Zac says, trying to make me look into his goddamn beautiful eyes again. Those eyes that make my knees weak. For a moment, I felt my breath being taken away, but I shake my head.
No, I'm just suffocating from his bullshit.
"You will be sorry if you don't let me go, right now," I told him firmly. I can't let him in again. I can't drop my defense.
"I made the mistake of letting you go once. I'm not letting you go again," he says, pulling me closer to his chest. I feel like I'm experiencing the aftermath of flying. The world is spinning around me, making me feel dizzy. The only thing I can hear is the beating of my heart.
No, no. I won't cave in.
I made the mistake of letting you go.
"The only mistake you're making is confusing me for someone who gives a damn," I snap, venom dripping in my words. I push his hard chest, trying to pull away from his grip, but he wraps his arms around my tiny waist. His grip has tightened on me considerably and I feel myself getting more breathless.
"Look at me," Zac says. He knows I'm avoiding his gaze. It's easier that way, but he's so stubborn. He tilts my chin up with his smooth hand. My heart stops momentarily when I look into his cold-blue eyes. His gaze is piercing through me and I swear he''s going to steal my beating heart.
My mind is screaming at me to protect myself.
Look at me.
"There's something about your face..." I begin, scanning my eyes across his handsome pale features, "that makes me want to punch it."
"Would it kill you to be nice?" Zac says, his pink lips frowning. God, I could kiss those lips... if they didn't spew out so much shit.
"I would say nice things, but I'd rather tell the truth," I retort, snorting slightly (my bad habit).
"You think you're being smart, don't you?"
"Me, being smart? How would you know?" I laugh rudely, snorting as I did so. His face twists slightly, as if he's trying to control his temper. I can tell that I was getting on his nerves. Good.
"Can we just talk properly? Please," Zac says. He's pulling me so close to him that we are inches away from kissing. There's sorrow across his features, his blue eyes glinting miserably. Seeing him so sad causes a deep ache in my heart, almost as if there's something punching my chest.
"I'm sorry. I don't speak idiot," I say. It hurts me to say this. It hurts to even push him away, but I can't let him break my heart again. I have to stay strong and move on.
He finally lets me go. It's like I resurfaced from under water -- I feel like I can breathe again.
"I hope your day is as pleasant as you," Zac tells me morbidly. I glare at him. I really want to slap him and kiss him and then slap him again. Why do I feel such conflicting emotions for this asshole?
I walk away from him. Silence is the best response to his bullshit. It was definitely difficult seeing him again. My stupid ex boyfriend.
I miss you...
I arrive home. Home sweet home.
After seeing him, my mood is simply black. My body is still shaking from his touch and my heart is thudding like crazy. He made me feel so weak, so dizzy from that confrontation. I can barely think straight.
I throw myself on my creamy sofa, my face sinking deep into the matching sofa cushions, as I scream my frustrations aloud. I hear someone coughing. I look up and see my sister, Jenny, who is staring at me blankly. She doesn't seem at all surprised by my emotional outburst.
"How are you?" She asks calmly.
"I'm a healthy, white, middle class girl. I'm great, can't complain," I retort, rolling my eyes. My mind torments me yet again as I think about him. His piercing, cold-blue eyes that destroy me. His messy, jet-black hair that I love to run my fingers through. His strong, muscular arms around me, making me feel safe and scared at the same time.
I scream into the pillow again.
"If you scream any louder, our neighbors will think you're a slut," my sister responds nonchalantly. She grabs the remote and switches the channel, watching something horror-related.
I pick myself up and put my knees to my chest, as I hug the cushion close to me. It's like my comfort blanket.
"How are you?" I ask Jenny. Despite my hammering heart, I try to calm myself down.
"I didn't have my morning coffee, but I didn't kill anyone yet. So I'm good," Jenny replies, not taking her brown eyes off the screen.
I sigh. I want to talk about my love life, but my sister is not the person for that. She's too busy with her movies and video games to bother with other people's affairs. She doesn't even bother talking about her own love life. Last time I asked, she simply responded with, "I'm in love with life" - and that's as meaningful as our conversation went.
I whip out my phone to message my only friend I had left - who didn't back-stab or abandon me like the rest.
Me: Hey, girl. Wanna hang out?
I got an instant response. Of course, Bree is always on her phone.
Bree: Sure. Coming over :)
I lie down on the sofa again and I try to make myself comfortable. Closing my eyes, I try to erase him from my mind. No such luck. Flashbacks of him embracing me in this sofa torment my mind. The way he holds me tightly, caging me in his strong arms, like he'll never let go. The way he softly breathes against my neck, fluttering my heart with his every breath. The warmth of his chest as I rest my head against his cozy body. And his soft, soft lips kissing my forehead, before I fall asleep.
God, I remember him so vividly that it hurts. My poor, weak heart.
In no time, my friend arrives. Bree has a spare key to our place, so she lets herself in. By this time, Jenny is eating a slice of pizza while staring at the television screen like a zombie. I didn't have to open my eyes to know that.
"Hey, is Lia sleeping?" Bree asks my sister.
"No, she's training to die," Jenny replies.
"Why?" Bree asks.
Now is a good time to open my eyes. I see the confusion plastered across Bree's face. Poor girl, she has a hard time understanding sarcasm.
"Come on. Let's go out," I say to Bree, jumping to my feet and stretching my arms. I was thinking somewhere simple like the park. Just for some fresh air but, of course, party-girl Bree has other ideas.
"Okay, let's go clubbing!" She chirps.
I roll my eyes. "Sure, there's nothing better than a cramped and crowded place, where you can never hear anything and everything is ridiculously overpriced."
"You know it," Bree giggles. "Let's go change into some sexy outfits."
"Sure, 'cos there's nothing I love more than ruining my dress with vodka," I say, sarcasm enunciating every word.
"Yup, that's the spirit, girl! We are gonna get so wasted!" Bree says excitedly.
"I'm getting a migraine now, even though I haven't been drinking," Jenny states moodily, as she grabs her headpiece. She is shooting death glares our way.
"Aww, I'm so sorry," Bree says to her, failing to take the hint. "Take some painkillers or something."
I sigh heavily. "Let's go. I wanna forget all about him."
"The one that got away?" Bree says in a hushed, secretive tone. She knows that I don't like his name being mentioned.
"The only thing worse than the 'one who got away' are the ones who don't go away," Jenny snaps.
My sister is clearly in her introvert mood. She probably should've had that morning coffee. Oh well, it's best to leave her alone.
"Come on," I say, grabbing Bree's arms and dragging her upstairs to get ready for our night out.
Bree looks gorgeous, as she always does. She's got beautiful golden curls that flow past her shapely butt. Her make-up is on point, accentuating her natural beauty. She's wearing a revealing, baby-blue dress that suspiciously looks a lot like lingerie. Yet it looks fantastic on her - it matches her twinkly blue eyes.
I look like a hot mess next to her. I'm squeezed into a tight black dress with my hair up and my face caked with make-up. I feel like a completely different person when I'm dolled up like this. We're heading to a nightclub called Deadly Sins.
Just as I suspected, it's loud and annoying when we got there. People are grinding against each other on the dance floor and sweaty bodies are mixing their fluids. I look at Bree and I see that she's already talking to some guy -- a tall, handsome blonde. In a weird way, they kind of look like brother and sister.
I shake my head. Ew, no. I shouldn't be thinking this way.
I make my way towards the bartender. I don't exactly have a plan tonight. All I know is that I want to drown my sorrows away with alcohol, black out and forget everything.
"Hey, sweetheart. What would you like?" The bartender asks me.
A new lover, I want to say. Instead, I order the newest drink on the menu - the Devil's Tears.
"Excellent choice. It's a drink I specially made myself," the bartender responds. He prepares the drink and hands me the tall glass. "Make a wish. It'll come true," he says with a wink.
I take a sip. "Mmm, lovely. Thank you," I say, as I pay and walk off.
Pfft, what is he on about? Wishes don't come true.
Suddenly I bump into a brick wall. I almost spill the drink on myself, but I manage to hold my glass steady. The figure turns around to face me.
Well, it isn't exactly a brick wall. But he shares the same IQ level as a brick wall. It's none other than my sworn enemy -- Jax Dagenhart. God, I hate this guy so much.
"Oh, hey Fiona. Where's Shrek?" He shouts above the blaring music. He named me after an ogre when we were children. Now the nickname has stuck. Some things never change.
"Not that it's any of your business, Jerkface, but we broke up," I shout back. Of course, I can't expect any sympathy from him.
Jax laughs carelessly. "My phone battery lasted longer than your relationship."
I grit my teeth. "Oh, how original. I'd call you a douchebag but that implies you can get near a vagina," I retort.
He smirks. His signature bad boy smirk that most girls love, but I absolutely hate with my guts. I've seen that smug look too often and, frankly, I'm sick of it.
"Protip, you should eat your make-up. Maybe it'll make you pretty on the inside," Jax yells, his forest-green eyes glinting maliciously.
"Says the one with a baboon's butt for a face," I snap. My voice is straining from all the shouting. Why do they blast the music so goddamn loud?
Jax is looking at me smugly. God, I hate that smirk so much, almost as much as I hate... well, him. He's so arrogant and obnoxious. I know he enjoys pissing me off. For that reason, I don't want to waste my time on this asshole any longer.
I'm about to walk away, but I suddenly feel my butt being slapped. I almost spill my drink again. I turn around slowly in disbelief. Jax is sneering at me with a look across face, indicating that he's challenging me. That fucking jerk has no respect for girls!
"Hell no," I spit out.
Angrily, I stomp over to him and I chuck my drink at his stupid face. His wet, black hair is hugging his face, as if it's his long lost friend - probably the only friend in his life. The droplets from the drink are pouring down his forehead like sweat and the top half of his shirt is damp. I can see his defined nipples through his black shirt. Damn.
I quickly move my eyes away from his chest. His smirk has vanished. Instead, his face is a picture of pure thunder. He looks so pissed off, like he wants to murder me. Good.
"Are you on your period or something?" Jax snarls.
"You'll be the one bleeding if you say that again," I threaten him fiercely.
Jax glowers at me, his forest-green eyes turning darker than usual, while he's clenching his jaws. I can imagine that, behind his frenzied, crazy eyes, he is imagining my death. I don't care, let him hate me more. Every time we see each other, the hatred gets stronger. The damage is irreparable.
"No wonder Shrek left you. You're so crazy, there's no medicine for your bullshit."
I want to rip his tongue right off his pretty little mouth, but I stop myself.
"At least I'm not as stupid as you look," I say, smirking evilly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna be busy ignoring you."
I walk away again and this time I make sure that he doesn't touch my butt. Going clubbing is definitely the worst idea. What was I thinking? I came here to forget my ex and drown away my problems with alcohol. But instead I'm just more angrier than ever. Next to Jerkface Jax, Zac seems like a decent guy. Now I miss him more than ever.
I shake my head furiously. No, they're both assholes.
I scan the area for Bree. I just need a friend to talk to. I spot her dancing away with that blond guy. He's twirling her in the air effortlessly. She's squealing and seeming like she's having a blast. Why should I interrupt her fun and depress her with my problems? Fuck that.
I sit down by myself in an empty bar sofa, located in the corner of the room. It's darker there and the music isn't so deafening. I rest my head against the glass table and I close my eyes.
I'll just fall asleep here. Maybe that's all I need to do. Just sleep and leave this world behind.
Suddenly my phone buzzes. I look at the screen -- and my heart jumps frantically. A message from him.
Zac: I still miss you.
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