The Boy With The Skull Tattoo 18+ (DISCONTINUED)

15. He's Got The Fire

(ELLAH)

                                   

         After a couple days of getting to know Deion, I was slowly becoming heavily attracted to him. I'd get nervous very easily when he'd come around. My heart would start pumping rapidly out of nowhere. I'd break a sweat just thinking about him without any clothes on. I mean how can a guy with so much rage and humor can be so possessive and he's not even aware of it. Out of all the other relationships I've had, I've never felt like this about any man. My stomach turns to knots when I think of his name. I start getting stings down my spine thinking of the things he can do to me. He's unbelievably different and it's scary. I thought he was one of those sick, angry tatted up guys who likes to live life and think drinking alcohol is the answer to their problems.

       Deion is not like that at all. He can fool anyone with that kind of bad boy appearance. He dresses like a bad boy. He gives off the energy like one but he's. . . not. He doesn't know he's doing it. When I first saw him he seemed like a douche bag. I don't mean the typical douche bag. I mean the one who thinks he knows all the struggles of life and draws them on his skin because he needs to be reminded of how dangerous in the mind he is.

He doesn't talk with an attitude, only if he's angry. He's very welcoming and open minded. I know art is his thing but this guy can create. I watched him one time creating beats off of his computer software. He creates video games. He even has a home built studio.

His apartment is more appealing then my house alone. Although my place looks decorative and professional like any other house, it's like he doesn't tell you much about himself. He lets his creativity do it for you. He'd rather let his actions prove to you how generous he is. I've never met a guy with so much tattoos with a shy personality.

BLESS HIM AND HIS GENES!

After a couple days when the storm began clearing out all I could think of was spending more time with Deion. I don't think he noticed the melting snow like I did. He hasn't looked out the window for the past couple of days.

I was sitting on his black leather couch. He was painting something on the wall. I couldn't quite figure out exactly what the detail looked like but he sure took his time to make sure whatever he was painting came out correctly.

I was occupying the magazine in my hands reading headlines and the most saddest stories about celebrities.

"Oh cry me a river Robin!" I said pointing at an article about Robin Thicke and his troubled marriage with his ex wife Paula ."He can buy me a nice box of Ferrero Rocher and Lindor Chocolate filled with Caramel with some underwear sets from Victoria's Secret! He'll have my heart before he knocks at my door begging for a second chance."

Deion's laugh escaped his lungs. I ignored it trying to stop him from distracting me. I looked at him from the corner of my eyes. He had already turned around while painting the wall.

He slowly stripped off his shirt. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"Fuck!" he rolled his shirt into a ball. "This was my favorite shirt too!" I got up automatically.

"What happened?" I asked. He unrolled the shirt when a huge stain of black paint spilled over it.

" How did you do that?"

"I was too busy laughing at you. As I was holding the bucket in my hand It accidentally tilted over and spilled all over me." He looked down at his Timberland's. "My boots are fucked up. My pants are fucked up." He clenched his jaw. The beauty of watching a mans jawline clench is my biggest weakness!

He headed towards the kitchen and cleaned himself up. He later came out holding a paper towel in his hand, a second away from throwing it out the trash.