The Boy in the Skirt

class

I didn't want to be sitting in class. We only had two classes today, and every day, but they were two hours long. Ew. I could feel people judging me more than usual as their eyes focused on the dark marks Michael had left all over my neck and chest, and the light bruises on my arms, near my wrists from Michael pinning my arms above my head.

It was hot today, so I was simply wearing a dark purple tank top and a black skirt. I regretted it as soon as I saw the first person look at the marks. Oh well. I wanted to be back in the room, under the blankets sleeping. Or talking to Michael. Or moaning his name.

Either way, I wanted to be back in the dorm. I was tired and pissy.

"Luke!" I heard the professor screech. "What?" I demanded. "What's the answer!?" He asked. I sighed and looked at Michael. He mouthed 403 to me and I called it out. "Good. Very good." He approved. I looked at Michael and mouthed a thank you, to which he smiled.

***

"Thanks." I said. "For what?" He asked, watching me fold the freshly cleaned laundry. "Saving me today in class." I answered. "Oh. No problem." He smiled. "I didnt think you were paying attention." I shrugged. He laughed. "I wasn't." He told me. I looked at him. "What?" I asked, a bit confused. He laughed.

"I just looked at Melanie's paper." He informed me. "Oh! Sorry, I'm having a blonde day." I said, picking up a new shirt to fold. "That's because your beautiful hair is blonde." He laughed. I blushed a little. He smiled.

My phone started ringing and Michael groaned when he saw who it was. I sighed. "Shes my baby mama" I giggled before answering.

I know its short. I have a lot to do okay?

And all my updates were short today so yeah

I love you so so much