Officially Blake's

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 8

NICOLLE'S POV 

I just looked at him quite disgusted. And why the hell would I hold his freaking dirty hand?! I mean, for Chipe’s sake! I don’t need him telling me to get out of here, let alone, hold his ghastly hand.  

"What?” was all that came out of my mouth.  

He didn’t say anything. He just rolled his eyes in lieu. He suddenly took my hand and dragged me with much brunt. Had I not been following rule number one, I could have kicked him right where he wouldn’t want me to.

Man, oh man. I really had enough with this freaking monster. He’s a spoiled fucking brat. He would do whatever he wants, to whoever he wants, whenever he wants, wherever he wants. What a narcissist.

I decided to control my temper and not to murder him in front of all these sumptuous people who probably own at least twenty luxurious cars in their smallest mansion. And, let me break it down, I was forced to do so because of this "let's-try-to-look-real" thing.

I wanted to throw up. 

A stringent smile emerged on my face while I tried to look down so people wouldn’t see me. He was still holding my hand, pulling me through the crowd that gathered around the dance floor, slow dancing All of a sudden, he placed my arms around his shoulder. Not just on his shoulder, around his shoulder; his perfectly—Whatever!

In turn, his arms snaked around my waist.

I looked at my eyes. I knew these were just contacts. These aren’t his real eyes. And I was so intrigued to see his real eyes, so I could look right down his soul. Right through him. I wanted him to be transparent.

What?!

I shook my head slightly. I couldn’t think like that or I’ll break rule number five. And I shouldn’t!

I tried not to look at his eyes but I was so attracted like a metal to a magnet. It’s like there’s something going on in his eyes that made me want to drown in them. Want to but can’t. Because if I did, I would really be breaking rule number five. And it’s like the most important rule!

Look down. Look down, I willed myself.

Look down. Look down.

Aaand… I stared deeper in his eyes.

Was it just my imagination or was he doing the same to me?

My breath got caught somewhere down my throat. Deep, deep down my throat. What is he doing to me? I looked down, finally and swallowed the words that would never come and instead say, “I need a booze.”

I tried to take my hands off but he compressed me even more to him. I closed my eyes. I could hear his heartbeat. And I could hear mine was just as fast as his. I should be hating this. But why am I liking it?

For all I thought, that dance with Andrew was heaven.

It wasn’t.

And as much as I hate to admit it, this is more heavenly.

I’m in a deep shit.  

"Huwag kang bibitaw, Amgirl,” he said quietly. 

I mustered my voice and replied, "You should've at least tried to ask if I would like to dance."

I looked at him and saw him smiling. Smiling. Blake Perez is actually smiling. It was not the usual smirk marked on his pretty face. It was a real smile.

And it tugged my heart in a weird way.

And I like the weirdness.  

"Shut up. Wag ka ng magsalita. After neto, iuuwi na kita. Oks?"