no control

• five •

elijah

My muscles cramped with exhaustion as I sat outside in my car, struggling to keep my eyes open. It had been a long week. A pain in my ass kind of a week.

We recovered the damaged goods from the attack and I barely managed to get the local authorities off my back. They were persistent fuckers.

The driver was still in my basement, though hardly alive at this point. Today, I couldn't give less of a fuck. Not about that guy or anybody else.

I sat in my CT5-V and occasionally lifted my head to look through the heavily tinted windows. I could tell when classes were changing or lunch was out, since kids would flow out of the red brick monolith. Otherwise, the school was dead from the outside.

This wasn't my first day. I knew when to expect my angel. She walked to and from this building every weekday at the same time. Ear buds in, eyes on the ground.

She never noticed me and I doubted she ever would on her own. I had a knack for blending in when I didn't want to be found.

This morning, she waltzed out of the decrepit little house in skinny jeans and a pink hoodie. Her honey gold hair folded down both shoulders in two long braids. I thought all day about tugging the elastics off and dragging my fingers through her soft hair.

My eyelids were growing heavy again when the school bell tolled. Jolting, I glanced at the clock on my dashboard. Three o'clock.

Students poured out of the building in a constant stream of colorful shirts and excited chatter. I dragged in a deep breath and pushed myself upright. My gaze pierced the herd of bodies, each moment more impatient.

The herd began to thin out. Where the hell was she?

I felt more awake now as the familiar pound of adrenaline pumped through me. My fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. Maybe she'd escaped my notice and was already down the street.

No. I would have seen her.

My breath wavered as the school doors opened again. A tall boy stepped out, very clearly a jock from his hideous red and black letterman jacket. He was holding the door.

Half a second passed and then a short figure stepped out after him.

The girl wore an oversized navy jumper that hung down to her thighs. Her cheeks were flushed as the two started down the sidewalk together.

My blood boiled. Who the fuck was this kid? And where the fuck was her hoodie? I grabbed the door handle and leaped out of the car without a second thought.

I'd been so patient all week. Biding my time, memorizing my angel's schedule, learning about her life. Even though resisting her was proving more and more difficult each day, I did it for the sake of knowledge.

I needed to understand if I wanted to understand my fixation with her. I couldn't do that objectively under her awareness, so I did it discreetly.

But this bullshit? Absolutely not. I would not sit idly by while some dickhead boy put his slimy hands on her.

My hands balled into fists as I marched across the street and down the sidewalk. The boy was just saying 'see you later' as I approached.

When my angel turned, I was there. She halted and her eyes widened.

I peered down at her face, absorbing the satisfying fear that flickered through her round emeralds. Then I lifted my face to glare at the jock's retreating form.

"You," she said.

My gaze dropped down to her face and the softness there surprised me.

"Yes, me," I snapped. "Come, now."