BAD BOY SAVED (male pov)

Colourful.

I stood outside the dorm building leaning against my bike. Olivia was running late as usual and I was getting funny looks from the students on her campus. I tapped my hands against the body of my Royal Enfield to the tune playing in my head and I waited.

"We haven't seen you around campus, are you new?" I turned to face a group of girls and my heart sank. It's always the same, they push their breasts out, twirl their hair and speak with a sickeningly sweet voice that I can't stand.

"No." I told them with maximum disinterest.

"I like your bike, do you want to take me for a ride?" The main girl asked with flirty eyes.

"No." I muttered again, looking back towards the dorm doors and secretly praying Liv was there.

"Go away vultures." The girls gave Lola a filthy look but soon retreated back to wherever they came from. I narrowed my eyes at Lola.

"I want my hoodie back." I told her. Her lips twitched into the slightest smile but for the most part she kept her face completely straight.

"I don't know what you're talking about Liam. I don't have your hoodie." She blinked at me innocently.

"You fucking do. My dorm was trashed. Clothes scattered everywhere, possessions taken and some fucker put their smelly ass in my bed. Like a bunch of fucking animals." She burst out laughing, not even the slightest bit sorry.

"I'll see you later Liam" she laughed to herself as she walked off.

"I want my hoodie back!" I called after her but she just saluted me, with one finger.

Finally Olivia started walking towards me and all of my irritability melted away. Her outfit was simple, black leggings with a long line top, sneakers and a denim jacket but somehow she made it look extraordinary.

"I've been waiting for you for half an hour." I told her and she had the audacity to roll her eyes at me. I wanted to grab her and kiss that sarcasm right off her face.

"Sorry" she muttered, not sounding at all sorry.

It didn't take us long before we were hitting up the paint ball range and slipping into white coveralls. They offered us five small hand grenades made from a soft, pop-able plastic. Olivia was staring at one of the grenades with complete intensity as of figuring out how it worked. I smiled to myself at her sweetness, she can study it all she wants she's not going to win.

Her forehead wrinkled up and there was a little pink tongue popping out of her mouth thanks to her extreme concentration. I just looked at this girl, she was beautifully perfect in every way and in that moment of her pure innocence, when she was studying a grenade that she planned to use against me I became overwhelmed with love.

She was everything to me, even if she was plotting my death via paint. I wanted her to live with me, to marry me, to carry my children. She had no idea how captivating she looked right now and I wanted her in every way possible.

"You want to make this interesting?" I raised my eyebrows at her suggestively and she smiled back at me, finally dropping her grenade into her bucket. "If you're more painted than me at the end then I want you to do something for me."

Throwing wasn't on of her natural talents. I had this game so far in the bag it was almost unfair. It was an easy bet.

"And I don't get to know what that is before I commit to this bet?" I shook my head, not able to shake the ever growing grin on my lips.

"Fine. But if I win then I want you to show me your sketch pad."

Shit, that's invasive.