His finger lightly touches the bottom of my chin, and he pushes my face upwards so that I'm looking into his eyes. Eyes that are solely on my lips.
I can't help it. I bite them.
"Oh, Delta," he whispers, quietly giggling under his breath. His laugh...
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A first kiss is supposed to be special. It's supposed to be the moment when all your dreams suddenly come true, when the world around you spins faster and faster, when all your worries and thoughts suddenly evaporate as your lips are pressed against someone else's.
A first kiss isn't supposed to feel like this.
Logan forcefully presses himself on to me, grabbing my hands and placing them to his bare waist. At first, I'm loving every moment of making out with him. He lodges his fingers into my hair, pulling me closer, and suddenly... I can't breathe. I need to breathe. He's not letting me breathe.
"Logan--"
"No," he says. "No more talking."
I don't try to kiss him anymore, and instead I tightly close my lips hoping he stops sticking his sickly tongue down my throat. I don't like what he's doing. I don't like it one bit.
"Stop it, Logan. Stop!" I shriek. I feel him push me through the patio doors and to the mattress of his bed, which feels like stone against my back.
"Be quiet," he says, landing on me and placing his lips on to mine. Now the sent of his cologne stings my nose, and I want it away from me. I want him away from me.
"You look so nice in those jeans," he mumbles, growling under his breath. "It'll be a shame when I take them off--"
"Get the fuck off of her," a familiar voice bellows. I hear a loud grunt and a hard thump, and then Logan is suddenly off of my body.
I pant hard. It takes me a couple seconds before I sit up to gaze at two figures violently wrestling on the floor. Logan is on the bottom while his opponent is on top, throwing horrid punches his way and bloodying his face to the point where it's more crimson than skin. He won't even give Logan a chance to recover, letting his fists fly one after the other as his knuckles, scabbed and covered in bandages, keep coming in contact with his victim's face.
"Xavier!" I yell. He doesn't seem to hear me over the awful groaning of Logan beneath him. Xavier has a lot more muscle than Logan does, and he's a couple inches taller than him too.
"Xavier, stop it!" I grab one of his arms and yank him back with as much strength as I can muster. I'm still drunk and a little bit tipsy, and I almost fail at pulling him away from Logan like pulling a dog on its leash.
"Don't you ever touch her! You hear me? Ever!" he shouts, pushing an almost-comatose Logan to the ground. He doesn't say a word... he can't, but I feel he gets the message.
"Why did you do that?" I tell him, not out of annoyance, but out of genuine curiosity. I hate him, he hates me... yet he just saved me from something heinous. Something I didn't think would happen tonight.
Xavier looks back at me, but it's nothing of emotion. He looks at me with narrow eyes, glaring through his hooded lashes and running his tongue over his teeth. He looks at me like I just made the biggest mistake of my entire life. He looks at me like he's incredibly irritated.
