blackheart ➵ m. clifford

➵ eight

➵ michael

“I like melons,” Luke mused, looking around the room full of sullen teens in a feeble search for just the tiniest crack of a smile.

There was not one, and there hadn’t been since I’d woken up in the grass alone. At least, not on my face. I wasn’t able to vouch for the others, because my eyes were solely trained on the wild-haired blonde that sat as far away as she possibly could. No matter how badly I wanted to look away from her, I couldn’t.

She was quivering lips, and she was smudged eyeliner. She was untamed hair, and she was the lipstick on her chin. I couldn’t quite fathom how such a mess of a human being could be so fucking gorgeous to me. The eyes that were once full of life were glazed over, and that little grin that seemed to forever grace her face was replaced with a frown. Every time I blinked, I took a mental picture of her, with her eyes hollow, and her lips parted as she breathed.

There was something about the way Jett was that drew me in. Usually, it was that sparkle in her eyes or the one dimple on her cheek, but right now, I was attracted to her chapped lips and her fingers that clutched onto her shirt. My tongue dipped out to wet my lips as she moved her hand just slightly down her thigh. She wasn’t weak, no, Jett would never be weak, she would never break, and she would never crumble, but she was raw. She was something in need of warmth, and I was so desperate to be just that.

I could feel eyes on me; everyone’s eyes but hers. And it was her eyes I wanted. I wanted those pretty golden eyes to drink me in, savouring my being with that glorious brain of hers. It was like there was a switch in both of our bodies; I found something so seductive about how dark she was, and I couldn’t help but imagine how she would look if she was trying.

She still wore her ripped tights, my eyes scouring every inch of the pale skin under the sheer black of the material. I could do nothing but look at her, at every inch of her skin, and I almost felt jealous that the shirt that fell from her shoulders was Luke’s and not mine. She should be wearing my shirts, and my boxers, and she should like me.

I wanted her to like me.

No one had ever liked me. Not one girl. Not on guy. No one. There had been drunken kisses in empty stairwells and hands that roamed, but there was never admittance of butterflies in stomachs or goosebumps on skin, nor was there rapid heartbeats or breath caught in throats. With Jett, I had everything but her lips and her fingertips, but I wanted her to have those things, too. I didn’t want to helplessly like this girl just for her to not like me back.

It actually made me kind of miserable, knowing that time after time I had liked girls who wouldn’t even give me a second glance. With Jett, it was different. She was different. She wasn’t bold, and to see her smile was so rare that it was like the sun had come out behind the clouds when she grinned. Other girls; they were confident, up themselves, and I didn’t have a clue why I had ever liked them in the first place.

I liked that Jett hid her hands in her sleeves, or twisted her fingers together in her lap, or even when she twisted them in mine. I liked when her ears turned red when she blushed, or even when she blushed at all. I liked that I was the one that made her blush. I liked her.

Calum mumbled an awkward goodbye, and left without another sound except for the click of the front door, and once again it fell silent. With this exit, it was like he made room for more black and depressive clouds to fill every corner of the living area. For some reason, my heart began to hammer in my chest, and my breathing became heavy, raw intakes of air that made my throat feel like sandpaper. I liked her, and I had woken up alone.

It was like everything that I’d bottled up smashed open in the cavern of my chest, pain shooting through every fragile centimetre of the organ before it was jumping in my throat and I was clutching at the carpet with my fingers and my eyes began to water as words dribbled like acid from my lips.