My Heart

Berated By My Own Mind

Story#3: Berated By My Own Mind

***This is a from guy’s point of view. :)

            A few more steps, Chase. Just a few more, I thought to myself.

            As soon as I get Emma up to her unit, I would get this shirt of mine and burn it down. Emma wasn’t heavy at all, even as I carried her all the way from her car. The only problem was that she was close to wearing nothing and she stank of something I could only classify as smoke and alcohol. I leaned my head against the side of her head to use it to prop my glasses higher up my nose since both my hands were full. I silently wondered about what would’ve happened if I told her I couldn’t just give on my Chemistry homework to pick her up from one of the many clubs she went to every night. I found her in this place called, “Dark Cravings”, which sounded absolutely disgusting to me.

            Little did I know it was more revolting once you stepped inside that I didn’t even want to remember it. Ever.

            All you have to hear is that Emma was, well, partying her hardest on the dancefloor in her underwear, the rest of her clothes nowhere in sight. Before stupid, shabby, mangy bastards could get their hands on her, I already swept her up into my arms, which I regretted about two seconds later when I realized I was still wearing my favorite shirt.

            So here I was now, opening her door. This girl is insane—she didn’t even lock it for security purposes!

            I carefully tried to unwrap her arms and legs around me, but she held on tighter—like a monkey, as I stopped moving for we were already beside her bed.

            “Emma, let go,” I mumbled, supporting her thighs around my waist.

            I felt her hands move to the back of my neck as she pulled away to look me in the eyes. I tensed. “Chase,” she whispered—I noticed that her breath didn’t stink of alcohol or smoke. It perfectly smelled like spearmint. Her lids were droopy and she yawned, even, “Didn’t you know? I refused for them to kiss me, really,” she told me, green eyes on mine.

            Her blond hair was such a mess, cheeks flushed a little—damn, if she just wasn’t such a wayward, unruly, shameless, spoiled brat, I would’ve liked her. Only, she was all that bad stuff, and everytime I saw her, forty percent of me fantasized at how beautiful she was, but the other sixty said she was the worst news to ever appear on my study table.

            “Aren’t you going to ask me why?” she pressed, pouting and slipping her fingers through my hair. She stopped after a moment, but then she slowly trailed her hands over my features, until she removed my glasses and threw it out back.

            I was going to protest since the sight of everything blurred, but she put a cold finger over my lips. I shivered. I took a shaky deep breath.

            “Why?” I asked her then.

            She brought her face so close to mine I hoped so badly I wouldn’t give in tonight.

            I shouldn’t.

            “Because I told them that maybe if I changed, you would want to kiss me.” Believe me, I already do, Emma.

            She did it not a second later—kissed me. There was no use pulling her off now. Okay, okay maybe the forty-sixty percent was kind of the other way around. And so I found myself falling with her into the bed, kissing all my aversions about her supposedly unwise lifestyle away.