Bound To Him | ✔️

9

~Onyx's POV~

"Your feet are on the table again!" Zena exclaimed in a scolding voice as she kicked my legs off of the coffee table in my main living room, causing me to scowl at her. "Who cares?" I grunted in annoyance. "This is my house. I can put my feet wherever I please."

She whipped her head around to look at me, the untamed curls upon her head bouncing from the action, and I rolled my eyes when she gaped at me. "I care! Saki and everyone else will be here in less than five minutes!" She said, looking like she was about to blow a fuse as she paced around in my living room. I narrowed my eyes at her. "Everyone?" I echoed, causing her to peek over at me and frown when she saw the look upon my face. "Yes, everyone." She reaffirmed, a confused furrow forming between dark brows. I scowled, sitting up straight on the couch and leaning my forearms onto my knees. "Including Katya?" I snapped, causing her to blink at me in surprise.

Nonetheless, Zena nodded her head. "Of course. She's our friend." She responded, as if it were that simple. My eyes narrowed at my best friend in annoyance. "I don't want that chick here, or anywhere near me for that matter." I told her, able to see the surprise that flashed across her face like neon lights in a dark room. I wasn't sure what she was so surprised for; my dislike for this new girl had been made apparent to her already. Hell, I'd told her myself.

I didn't like that sass she had given me, the fact that she had assumed shit about me—and I sure as fuck didn't like that she'd been right in her assumption. Intimidating people that got on my nerves or who were just plain nuisances was an easy thing for me to do, so I'd grown rather used to being called an asshole and I didn't mind. People saw me as intimidating, scary, rude, but that was more than fine with me as long as they left me the hell alone. It had always worked. Nobody ever gave me smack talk in return, but she had. I didn't like her tone, the fact that she'd spoken of me as if I was some piece of shit for being content with intimidating others. She was too judgy, too mouthy—too much fucking everything, and I didn't want her around me.

"Well, that's too bad for you." Zena huffed at me, crossing her thin arms over her stomach. Right then, I heard the sound of a car door slamming outside my house and I scowled, knowing that they all had arrived.

Not even a minute later, Zena was opening the front door to let everyone in, Yosef being the first to enter and Katya being the last. I narrowed my eyes on her curvy figure, watching as she wrapped her arms around Zena in a hug as a greeting. The front door was gently shut and locked by Zena after they broke the embrace, Katya's short body standing in the middle of the living room as if unsure she should sit.

My eyes flicked over the length of her attire, which consisted of a Nike set that was black and red. The sweatpants were black with a thick red stripe that went up the side of either leg, white lining the outside of the red stripe. Her jacket was mostly black with a red patch that started at the elbow of the sleeve and went up, stopping halfway down the front of the jacket, leaving the rest of it black including the entirety of the back. There was a white lining along the front of the jacket, following the red patch. Beneath her unzipped jacket was a white crop top that showed off the skin of her stomach, the sneakers on her feet so white that they looked brand new.

Katya noticed rather quickly that I was looking at her, meeting my glare with a brow raised in annoyance, silently asking what I wanted. I glared at her harder and she rolled her blue-grey eyes, looking away before she was grabbed on the arm by Zena, who began to pull her over to the couch. Zena pulled Katya down onto the couch, the closeness of her making me scowl and scoot away as Katya's scent of cupcakes wafted into my face.

"You're too close." I snapped at Katya in a low voice, causing her to swivel her head to look up at me. She huffed, narrowing her gaze at me as she scooted even closer in response to my complaint, clearly just trying to rile me up and grate on my nerves. I knew this, but that didn't stop it from succeeding. "What about now?" She asked, cocking up an arched brow. My jaw clenched in annoyance and her pouty lips twitched up in a smug smirk, as if knowing that she was succeeding in pissing me off.

She was an impossible fucking woman. This was only my second time ever speaking to her, and yet I already knew that she was perhaps the only person that had ever grated on my nerves this intensely, the only person that so easily had made me pissed off until I could practically feel my blood boiling.

"Fucking smartass." I scowled, deciding that if she was going to be petty, then I would just outdo her. I leaned back into the couch, spreading my thighs until my leg pushed firmly against hers, which caused her to glare up at me as she realized what I was doing. "And you're a petty dick." She huffed back, crossing one leg over the other in attempt to get a little personal space from me. My lips twitched up into an amused smirk, secretly loving yet hating this little back and forth shit she was giving me. Despite her sass and the disdain hanging between us, I liked the feeling of being challenged by her. Nobody had done so before.

So even though I hated her backtalk, there was also a side of me that respected it. It made me feel like I was being kept on my toes, and I hadn't felt like that before.

"I'm not petty, kitty. I'm just an asshole." I responded simply, and she snorted, her long, fiery hair brushing my arm when she shook her head with an amused smile on the edges of her lips. "Wow." She chuckled. "At least you're self-aware." She said, looking as if she agreed with me completely. I cocked up a brow and leaned closer, causing her to blink at me in surprise and lean away a little. "Of course I am." I hummed, resisting the urge to chuckle when she scoffed and sent me an annoyed look.

"You know, I'm not sure what's more sad--the fact that you probably feel like you have to be an ass, or the fact that you don't even try to be anything else." She told me, her soft voice coming out taunting. A low whisper for only me to hear.

My eyes narrowed at her, anger and adrenaline pumping through my veins until I could hear the pounding of my own heart. "And I'm not sure if it's more pathetic that you keep pointing it out, or that you seem to think that I care enough to listen to what you say in the first place." I retorted hotly, watching as her lips parted in disbelief. Her mouth snapped shut a second later and she glared at me, hatred burning in those pretty eyes.

And the sight of that just made that thrilled feeling even more intense. Her constant backtalk, the glares she gave me, it made me feel like I had met my match. It wasn't that I wanted her to hate me, I guess, but I wanted this feeling to last. I needed her to hate me for that.