FORMERLY V D' YAVOL.
For as long as she can remember, Dream has been... dreaming. Very vividly. She saw how her childhood dog died two days before he actually did, so she had plenty of time to prepare herself-her words. She's been to plenty psycholo...
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A soft, warm yet violently tense bubble of air brewed around us as we stood in the foyer of my apartment. Pearly blue eyes held the gaze of dark brown ones, and his voice was thick and wet with thick, burning jealousy. I cleared my throat, once, twice to gain attention from either party, but they were too busy alpha male-ing their lives away.
"Kirill," I said his name like a lifeless whisper, and when he looked at me, I looked away and towards Christopher, "is my boyfriend," Christopher's gaze burned two dark, deep holes into mine.
I had forgotten to tell Kirill about the situation that happened a week ago.
"Boyfriend, huh?"
A snarky, joyless smile curled around Kirill's lips like a venomous snake. It burned the corners of my heart, and when he lifted his chin and looked down at Christopher, I knew this would either end in a brawl or a few choice words from Kirill.
"Anyway," I cleared my throat a final time, and that seemingly broke the tension. "I'm done here, so we can go," I smiled at Christopher, a smile that was apparently too friendly because Kirill nostrils flared slightly.
After walking Christopher out and vaguely answering his questions, I turned back to Kirill. He was leaning against the wall close to the door, his eyes glimmering with amusement but it was a different type of amusement. It caused a rush of adrenaline to soar through my body.
"Okay, I have something to tell you,"
Kirill cocked his head in question. His gaze darkened to one that screamed jealousy and predatory overprotectiveness. I cleared my throat and closed the door behind me, "Christopher...he- um, he came over one night,"
From overprotectiveness, his gaze went straight into the one I saw back in his house four days ago. The dark, lifeless burn of his blue eyes on my skin froze me over, turning me into a glass sculpture. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't even think properly.
"Did he touch you?"
His voice was a violent drum against my ears, his accent as potent as the sad, grey clouds outside my window. Just then, a clap of sharp thunder went off around us, and with it went the building's power. A startled gasp left my throat once I felt his warm hand close around my throat and push me against a wall.
I couldn't see anything, I couldn't focus on one thing, the rain and his cologne and his hand- it was all too much.
But gently, I felt him tilt my chin up to face him; I assumed. My eyes fluttered closed in tense, draining anticipation of what he would do next.
Slowly, teasingly, I felt his hand slip under my dress. I arched my back, the fervent need in my abdomen to be touched taking a hold of me, closing around my common sense and turning me into nothing but need.
His breath, hot and minty, wafted against my flushed neck. I tilted my head from him, to give him more space to cause his beautiful attack on my throat. But it never came, instead, his deep and baritone voice rumbled against my skin.
