Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FOURTEEN | HOPE AND TRICKERY
❝ Dancing around the lies we tell, dancing around big eyes as well ❞
KAI'S POV
It'd taken every single ounce of self-control in him to keep his darkest and deepest impulses from taking over, the second he'd caught a glimpse of Sophie in her little lilac dress that same Saturday evening, looking more beautiful than he could've ever even dreamed of and he knew then, there was nothing he wanted to do more than to kiss the real Sophie Harlow.
An urge that became nearly unbearable the more he'd allowed himself to appreciate just how fucking pretty she looked that night, to the point she even made him consider the possibility of her intentionally choosing to wear that dress to watch him struggle keep his eyes off of her.
Not that he wanted to, in fact, he'd pretty much given up trying to keep himself from staring at her too much when he noticed the way her little lilac dress seemed to ran tight and short in all the right places and how her delicate face would light up and soften every time her honey-brown eyes met his.
It'd been torture, to say the least, to go through an entire evening without giving her so much as a kiss but if anything, the lack of equal desire in her eyes was more than enough confirmation he needed to know he'd done the right thing by waiting to make a move on her.
She didn't think of him that way, at least not yet. It seemed like she was still stuck on seeing him as the thirteen year old version of him that wouldn't even consider the thought of kissing her, let alone tell her all he wanted to do was fuck her until their bodies gave out.
Not that he was surprised either, considering the only 'intimate' moments they'd ever had – if he could even call them that – had been out of pure jest on his behalf or completely accidental.
Luckily for him, Saturday night had given him the answers to all of his Sophie-prayers, at least the kind of answers he needed to know how to proceed with his plan. However, he had to admit his victory turned somewhat bittersweet half-way through the night, when Sophie's sheer look of innocence was almost nearly enough to make some part of him feel... scummy for using whatever nostalgia she seemed to have over their former friendship against her.
She cared about him, at least for the person he used to be and he knew that, better than that, he knew it was a weakness he could use in his favor and while he would've been proud to finally figure out exactly how to get through Sophie's heart, whatever part of him had been weak enough to get attached to her all those years ago, clearly didn't agree with what he was doing to her.
And that's how his Sunday torment seemed to begin, or rather in the form of a 'nightmare' or that's what he was choosing to call the rather dull dream he'd had that night after he'd claimed his very short-lived victory, when he'd been hoping to dream of her then more than ever.
