His Little Psycho

01 || The Meet-Cute

The crisp, spring air blew past me, fluttering strands of my hair, as it went. I shivered slightly and wrapped my arms around my torso. It was after 10 PM, I knew better than to be out, all alone, at this time of night. But, I needed to clear my head. Today was the suckiest of all sucky days.

I was told earlier in the day that I was being fired. Why? Well, multiple reasons, actually. For one, I refused to give my creepy, disgusting, pig of a boss blow jobs. I wasn't like the other girls, I refused to trade sexual favors for job security. Two, apparently, I've been written up for having too many outbursts. It's not my fault I've got a couple screws loose upstairs. I have tried to take medication, but it doesn't help. Nothing helps.

No one understands how messed up I truly am. Its why I am all alone in this big scary world.

So yeah, I grabbed my purse, stuck my middle finger up in the air, and stormed out of my place of work. Shouting for everyone to "Go fuck themselves" as I did, and I've been walking around the city ever since. Today was a bad day to wear high heels too.

I really should make my way home. But I don't want to, I hate that shoebox of an apartment that I reside in. Its dirty, smelly, bug-infested, and I am pretty sure my neighbor was murdered the other night, either that or she is very vocal during sex. My point being: I wish I lived somewhere else. But you gotta have money for nice things. And I am fresh outta that cheddar, and lettuce.

First world problems, am I right?

*

Coming around the corner on the block my apartment complex, I pass an alleyway. On the brick exterior of one of the buildings at the end, I can see multiple shadows. It is really stupid of me to be nosy, but I just can't help it. Not like I got anything better to do.

I quietly walk into the alley until I can get a better visual of what's going on. Hearing voices of what I think are men, I try to block out all the other noises, wanting to listen in. However, my unlucky ass has to go and trip over a piece of garbage or something, which sends a glass bottle skidding a few feet away and breaking after colliding with the dumpster. The disturbance was loud enough to get the attention of whoever these men are at the end of the alley, and several heads whip around and hone in on me. Son of a bitch. . .

A series of loud popping sounds go off and a masculine groan follows after, and I watch as one of the men slumps to the asphalt-paved ground, dead as a doornail. One of the guys that were standing turns around to join his counterparts, I see his face speckled with blood, spray-back of whomever he just offed. I'm frozen in place, not from fear, even though I am sort of scared. No, I'm curious more than anything. Do you know the saying "curiosity killed the cat"? Yeah, well, I am that fucking cat. Ever since I was young I have always gotten myself in trouble, thanks to my curious mind.

The bloodied man takes long-legged strides over to me. As he gets closer I can see how terrifyingly beautiful he is. I know, I know, men are not usually described as beautiful, but this man is. Precise, edgy bone structure, firm lips, piercing, hollow eyes, and sharp, long brows. He is a masterpiece.

Holy fuck!

When he was stood before me, his tall frame towering over myself, he studied me. Reading my eyes for answers to questions he hadn't verbalized. His frosty, blue gaze stabs into my grayish one, burning into me, all the way to my soul. And when he spoke, I felt my heart stop.

"Who are you?" His strong, masculine tone makes me shiver.

My mouth opens so I can reply, but no words come out. Instead, the world began spinning and I felt the pavement growing dangerously close to my face. This was going to hurt. No pain is felt, which I thought was odd, only I didn't get to ponder it since even darker darkness and nothingness washes over me.

Here is to hoping I don't wake up dead. . .

^^^^^^^^^^