Pussyboy

Zbornak

I left him there and proceeded to the room.

The corridor had this Eighties vibe to it. It wasn't pastel or full of highlighted colors anyway.

It was this just full of carpetting and earthy vibe coupled with the bright lighting. It looked like the Seventies just turned into the Eighties.

Whatever.

Knock knock.

I stood in front of the room. The door was white with a factory handle. It looked more like a fire exit than a door of a suite here. Well whatever, this better be good.

Then, Louis opened the door. He was dressed in a simple shirt and some slacks.

"Come in, come in."

I stepped inside the room.

"What the fuck is going on?"

He looked at me taken aback and a bit unsure.

"Well, someone wanted me to meet you here."

What?

Someone? Who? And what the hell was he talkin about, so I asked.

"Who?"

"The guy you're going to marry."

"I thought we settled this. I a going to marry someone I wanted to marry not some rich shit fuckman that now shoots blanks because he was once a member of the World War Two regiment in Normandy!"

"That's the thing, I looked through the documents again and I forgot to note that you really had to marry a specific person."

"What?"

No. No. No. No.

This can't be happening again. My parents wanna control my life again from the grave. They were alredy dead and now, they want to control how I fuckin lived my life.

Fuck them.

Fuck them.

Fuck them.

"No."

"But–"

"I said no! This isn't happening, you didn't object to me deciding that I got to choose so it's not my fault for forgetting to relay all the facts before jotting the agreement so–"

"Shut up!"

I looked at the source of the voice. Mr. Fuckin James.

"You!" I pointed at him. "Why the hell are you here?"

"He's the man you're gonna marry."

I looked at Tomlinson then at James, then back at Tomlinson.

"What?"

"You heard him."

That fucker spoke.

"What?"

"You're gonna marry me."

"I know what it meant you dipshit, I was just reacting like a normal person instead of exclaiming fuckin moans and sounds."

I fell down and hit the sofa. I think by the heat of everything — I aimlessly wandered inside into the living area.

I absentmindedly hung my face to my palms and just made an uneasy sound of a combination of a whimper, a howl, and a short sob.

"I'd like to hear you moan though."

I looked up at him unbelieving. He just smirked. He looked so hot doing that but he was an asshole who incidentally would be getting my asshole anytime soon.

That thought made my blood boil.

I grabbed the nearest thing I could grabbed and threw that at him.

Thankfully, it was a pillow.

He managed to catch it and just tauntingly smirked at me.

I soon grabbed another and beat him with it. He stood up while I was hutting him with another pillow and just laughed like he was having fun.

I stopped.

I walked back to the sofa.

I sat down.

They were watching me.

I gave them the middle finger and just covered my face with my hands and then just sobbed.

After a while, I stood up.

Fuck them.

I walked out.