Last First Kiss [Brallon+Completed]

4: A Virgin: Innocent

The last thing I expected to find in my art class room on a Wednesday morning was Mr. Nameless himself, standing proudly at the front of the class. He was dressed in a white dressy shirt, with a vest over that, and black pants that really only went 3/4s down his legs. With that, he wore the ugliest sandals. His shoes were pretty nasty for a pretty man. Still, not even the beauty of him could lock away the shock of seeing him sitting on my teacher's desk.

"Hello, students of Black Hollows, I'm Brendon Urie, and your teacher asked me to substitute for you all today. After all, I am a professional artist, with many pieces of my own." He stated, voice loud and clear. It was still deep, and raspy when he got careless with his words, but he spoke with a confidence I didn't know he had. I should've seen it coming. All beautiful people are arrogant.

I sat down in my desk, which was thankfully in the back, and hid myself behind a book (and my black hoodie) and hoped I looked too unapproachable. A few of the girls in our class were already fawning over him. Of course they were; he was God's best friend. Lucifer, maybe? Or Thanatos, the God of death. Terribly handsome, sounded about right.

"I do recognize a few familiar faces. Dallon? Would you come up?" I raised my head from the book I pretended to be reading, pulled my hood off my head, and did something I'd raised myself strictly against; I spoke back against a teacher. "No." I spoke, loud and clear, and straightened up. I had everybody's eyes now.

"And why not? I just need a volunteer for my demonstration of abstract portraits of others." He called out. I knew from the look on their makeup smeared faces that the girls near me were shaking their heads at me with pure disappointment, but I didn't mind.

I wasn't going to let Thanatos tear me down yet. I'm a house of cards.

"Why me?"

"Because, Dallon. Art comes in many shapes and sizes, and I feel obliged to point out how to find these simplicities." In less complicated words, he'd called me beautiful. I froze on the spot for a few minutes, but his intimidating, bronze eyes shot my wariness down, and I found myself crawling towards him like a dog in need of their bone, and that wasn't even the most embarrassing part.

When I reached the front of the class, I turned to awkwardly stand beside him, who was shorter than I. Then he turned to the chalk board, with many different shades of the rainbow lined up in chalk sticks on the teacher's desk. I glanced at him in slight alarm as he lost interest in his chalk sticks, and gained interest in me. Yet there was the side of me that was hungry for his eyes to be upon my body.

"Dallon's not aware of what makes him an enticing human," Brendon spoke, the raspiness of his voice died down to a clear, dull tone. I huffed to myself. Thanatos, you clever devil. Brendon was a God within himself. He reached up on his tippy toes, to grip my face roughly in his hands. My heart jumped from the sudden contact. When he touched me, I felt obliged to go against Spencer's warnings, and chase the boy head on. Man, did I have a crush on somebody I still considered a stranger.

"For starters, his lips. They could only be described with the rosiest shade of pink." As the words left his mouth, he poked at my bottom lip, and slipped away. My lips fell into a pout, and I cautiously peered behind me; I wanted him in my line of sight at all times. Not only because he was beautiful, but because he was a mystery.

He was at the teacher's desk, plucking shades of pink from the chalk stick stash. Eventually, he made his way back over. I turned my head back towards the class, shaking my head in disbelief. He raised each of the pink chalk sticks up to my lips, comparing the colors, until he found the right one. Then he discarded the wrong colors, chose a basic white, and took place at the board again.

He drew a head with the white, then filled in some lips with the pink. After that, he approached me again, and grabbed my face again. This time, more forceful than the last time. "His eyes put the dreary skies of Black Hollows to shame." He decided, repeating the process until he'd drawn my face on the board in chalk...and complimented my every feature.

Finally, he approached me for the last time, and gripped my wrist, up turning it to show the class.

"Lastly, there's no names. A virgin." He exposed, a smirk quirking at his lips. My stomach dropped, and I stared at him in disbelief. He allowed the class to laugh a few times as my cheeks burnt dark crimson. I glared daggers at him as he pinched my wrist between his fingers again.

"Stop laughing." He snapped, and the class slowly fell silent. "Innocence should not be put to shame. An innocent figure such as Dallon Weekes himself should be praised with the riches of a billionaire; something I intend to do." My eyes, if possible, hardened at him. I was still forced to stand at the front of the classroom, until he finally gripped my shoulder, and whispered in my ear. "Sit down, poet boy."

I gladly seated myself. Though I wanted to hate him with everything for the probing looks nearby students gave me, I was unable to distinguish any real hatred for the bronze eyed man. Through the sea of hate, there was an island that still called to anybody who would listen, and island that still begged for him to act upon his words, and treat me any way he'd want. I had a sad life, but oddly, I was okay with such.

"Hey! Brendon," I called out, marching my way down the sidewalk towards the art substitute. He was making his way across the college campus. I wasn't willing to let him walk away, after exposing me in class as a virgin. Just as sad as my life, it was true. I glanced down at my own wrist before raising my hand to grab his wrist, and hopefully, his attention.

He whirled around, and his lips spread into a grin when he caught sight of me. I couldn't catch the butterflies that got loose in my stomach, and fluttered amongst my insides. His smile was just the light of my shitty day, which was stupid since he'd caused my morning to be shitty. "Well, if it isn't the masterpiece himself!" He exclaimed.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What the fuck was what?" He asked, his perfect smile disappeared into a just as perfect frown. I wanted to smack it off his face, and I would've, if we weren't in public; and if i wasn't afraid of breaking his stupid yet perfect face. "Just because you're all slutty with a thousand names doesn't give you the right to ruin my life! How do you know I'm a virgin?"

He sighed, frustrated.

"Spencer. I asked, he replied." He simply answered. It was too simple for my liking. Maybe it was because I was a complicated person, and therefore expected a complicated answer to every complicated question I asked. Whatever it was, it still angered me. I groaned, releasing him, and turning to storm off.

"Alright, Dallon. This is okay. Don't bother wasting your time on some creep." I spoke to myself, holding two fingers to my forehead, feigning a headache; which I wouldn't be surprised if it popped up. He was my headache, and all I knew was his name.

Ah, his name. His name was different. I'd never heard of a Brendon, which just added onto how unusual of a person he was. I wanted to test the name on my tongue, but at the moment, it wasn't appropriate. He should've kept to Mr. Nameless.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind if you wasted your time on me. Please?" His voice cleared a bit as he spoke. I found myself glaring at him again, but still giving in to the boy whisperer.

"Why? Why are you suddenly interested? When we met, you simply told me no when I tried for your name." I reminded him. His frown turned into guilt, and I felt slightly better about myself. Alright, so he had feelings. I could break him down, if I really wanted to. Not that I would do so on purpose. Never.

"I thought you were gonna be like the rest of them. However, you told me 'no', and that, for one, was what you had me at. Tell me, Dallon, you don't know how to love, do you?" He assumed. Again, he was scarily accurate. I'd never been in love, so every step I was taking was terrifying. I swallowed slowly, letting my arms rest at my side.

"How do you know that?"

"I'm good at reading people."

"Huh?"

"It comes with practice." He finished up the conversation, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. I stared at him for a few straight seconds, before shoving my hands in my jean pockets, and looking down at the ground.

"Have a good night, Dallon. Please. Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow night." He insisted. Nice. Another invitation, to the slammer. Again. Except this was on a school night, so I probably wouldn't go. I looked up as he turned, and disappeared right into the foggy air of Black Hollows. I, on the other hand, turned to mop off to my own dorm.