I Would Kill For You

2. Expect The Unexpected (part 3)

He had an unconventional beauty, that both chilled and lured you in. Stance majestic, imposing through his mien and confidence, the first thing that you noticed about him was his eyes, framed by long lashes. His eyes were of such a dark brown colour that they appeared black in the dimness of the canteen, his sight cold and hollow. His clothes were of the same shade as coal, and the only spark of colour was his dark blue coat. Damian didn't linger; he was walking straight forward, not noticing anyone around him. As always, he seemed to be in a hurry. I didn't remember ever making eye contact with him. Until Monica's death, I didn't really care about his persona, nor did I try to properly look at him. He was just the shadow that was always there -- sometimes you saw him, sometimes you didn't.

I had a feeling that from now on, I'd always see him.

Before thinking twice about it, I leapt to my feet and rushed to him, swiftly throwing a glance at my best friend, who watched me with stupefaction.

"Hey!" I shouted to get his attention, and it worked. His hastened stride came to a halt, but he didn't turn right away to me. It was as if he was considering whether to face me or ignore me and keep going. After a few seconds that seemed like minutes to me, he finally decided on the first option and swung around. 

His piercing gaze fell on me apathetically. I eyed him back boldly, and I observed how indifference transitioned into slight curiosity, if not interest, deftly veiled under a bland expression. We just stood there, in the middle of the buffet, and even though I could feel a dozen other prying looks on us, I only saw him, and his hauntingly beautiful eyes. Not because I was taken aback by his mesmerizing appearance, that was. I knew he was attractive. I expected him to be attractive. What I didn't expect was that my first thought upon seeing him this close would be that he's capable of murder. I wondered what his first thought had been when he laid eyes on me.

"Rosabel." he simply greeted me with a nod, as if we had been neighbours for years whose interaction only consisted of 'hello' and 'goodbye'. I was surprised that he knew my name, for I have never talked to him before, but at the same time, I was relatively known in the Academy, because it wasn't that big and I had been studying there since first grade, so it wasn't a complete revelation to me. In St Felix, everybody knew everybody. Almost.

That would have been a favourable moment for me to slap him. I could easily lunge at him and do it. The only inconvenience would be our height difference. I inhaled deeply and prepared myself mentally. 

I got this. 

I stepped forward, but to my bafflement, so did he. He was way faster than me. I barely had time to do anything when he grabbed my arm and pushed me towards him, forceful enough to make our chests bump together. I could hear the demented beat of my heart, or was it his? I parted my lips, intending to protest vehemently, and he took advantage of the opportunity.

He kissed me.

I froze under the touch of his soft lips on mine. His perfume suddenly invaded my nostrils -- it was fresh and sharp, and it reminded me of warm cinnamon, cloves and sandalwood. It was oddly familiar. He tasted like spearmint and something sweet, akin honey. His left hand rested lightly on my cheek, whilst mine were just by my side, as I was too shocked to move. The kiss was firm but slow, and before I could realise what was actually happening, he withdrew slightly, tugging at my lower lip. 

I stared at him for a second dumbfounded, trying to process the event and what to do next. It didn't take long until my palm raised and struck him across the face, harder than I intended. The sound of the slap echoed in the cafeteria loudly, and his head jerked to the right under the impact. My hand was burning and blood instantly ran to his cheek, painting it red. I could see the faded shape of my fingers on his skin, and I almost felt bad for him.

"What the hell?!" I exclaimed with indignation, staggering back a little. My eyes were blazing with flames of vexation and embarrassment, and I clenched my fists threateningly. He languidly turned his head back to my direction and watched me cheekily, the corners of his full, but delicate lips curving upwards into a playful smile.

"You should be thanking me. I just gave you the perfect excuse to slap me. We both know you wouldn't have done it otherwise. You're too soft."

My eyebrows raised in incredulity. Somehow, he knew about the dare Avery gave me. Someone must have warned him, but who? And why? It must have been someone from the Elite Group, unless an intruder had eavesdropped on our conversation. That was highly unlikely, but it still could be taken into consideration. 

Too soft?

"Oh, really? Come near me again and I'll show you just how soft I am." I uttered menacingly, trying to ignore the fact that I still had the sensation of his lips on mine. 

His dark chocolate hair fell over his eyes, and he ran a hand through it in order to sweep it away.

"As tempting as that is, I'd rather keep my face intact. Good luck with your bullshit group." he wished me, though his tone was anything else but benevolent.

I held back the cutting remark that was on the tip of my tongue as he turned his back on me, and just like that, left me nonplussed and fuming. I sighed silently and loosened my fists, finally relaxing my tense body. I looked over my shoulder and spotted Avery and her gang (which consisted of her boyfriend and two of her friends, a tall girl and an athletic boy) by a table close to Ellie's. Avery glowered at me and muttered something under her breath that sounded like a curse, judging by the motion of her lips. The bell rang. With a last patronizing glance, she exited gracefully, and the others followed her like robots. The other students in the canteen, around eight, were still staring at me. 

"Show's over." I voiced loud enough for them to hear me, and their sights immediately shifted away from me. I hoped I didn't sound too rude. I wasn't planning to be; but after what had happened, I was a little bit stressed.

That was my first kiss.

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Author's Note: I hope you're enjoying this so far. Constructive criticism is always encouraged. Take care ❤