"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I spit at him, the anger laced in my voice angered him and I loved it. I watched as he clenched his jaw, staring at me as his eyes darkened; walking up to me, soon towering over me making me realize how small I w...
MATTHEO IS yasmineamaro CALANTHA, NICCOLÒ, AND KASSANDRA ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK R*WLINGS
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T R I G G E R W A R N I N G
ALCOHOL, MATURITY, MENTION OF DRUGS, HARASSMENT, FIGHTING, MENTION OF ED ( ANOREXIA NERVOSA ) BUT NOT HEAVILY, SEXUAL ASSAULT
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S E V E N
KASSANDRA was gone and I was alone in my room. I stared at myself in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, nervously biting my lip as I pressed my hands against my exposed chest. I spent hours arguing with Kassandra about what to wear tonight--I was set on sweatpants and a hoodie, but somehow she persuaded me to put on one of her tops; a black lace tank top, with a v-shaped neckline cutting down to my mid-stomach, my cleavage slightly exposed. I wore the same black trousers that I had the other day, they went up to my stomach and flared at the bottom, making me seem more like a woman rather than just a silly girl at a simple party. The confidence I needed to pull off the outfit was nowhere near what I found myself to have, but I knew that if I showed up wearing a hoodie Kassandra wouldn't let me hear the end of it.
"Calantha," Mattheo's voice blended in with the muffled music, three knocks brought me to open the door for him. I didn't greet him as he walked into my room, but I continued to stare at my body in the mirror, turning around to look at my backside, frowning. "I can't wear this," I laughed at myself, turning to Mattheo with a hand on my forehead.
"Keep it on," he spoke up, looking me up and down and smiling before looking back up at my face. I paused and took in his appearance--he had on a simple black t-shirt and a pair of baggy sweats; he looked good, as he always did, and he gave minimal effort, as he always did. He could pull off anything with the way he looked--his soft, curly brown hair, his deep brown eyes, his muscular build and his strong hands; he was the one thing almost every girl like Pansy wanted, but always found themselves unable to have. He was someone I found myself to strangely, somehow begin to grow attracted to, but never the same person to feel any sort of way toward me.
And I knew this--that while his game of being nice was most likely only temporary--I took it upon myself to allow it to happen. I wouldn't grow to be used to his new behavior, I promised myself that much, but I wasn't going to ignore him when I found myself being able to tolerate him the most.
"Are you crazy? I can't wear this, Mattheo." my hands moved behind me, my fingers grabbing at the air while trying to find the small ribbon tie that held the shirt closed. I let out a frustrated sigh, rolling my eyes at myself, watching Mattheo as he smirked from a few feet away. He walked up to me, grabbing my wrists and holding them at my sides; a wicked smile found its way onto his playful lips and he stared me down. "Keep. It. On." he whispered, enunciating each word as he slowly leaned into me.
