Paper Cut Lover | Kylo Ren

TWENTY-FOUR

Over the passing days, we had taken no time to waste the devotion within our tender hearts. 

Whether that be, inviting Kylo Ren to my dorm during the late hours, where night shifts into morning, or locking the classroom door and pulling down the blinds to crawl beneath his desk and take him with my mouth, and perhaps even the times where he had lunged me into the passenger seat of his car, only for me to crawl over him in the drivers side and allow the windows to fog up as we hide within the smoke of our secret endeavours. 

There was an urgency often spilling out of me, with a desperate need to allow him to consume me entirely or at least offer up every inch of my skin for him to leave bruises and love-bites of his approval upon. 

I was completely obsessed, and I suppose that he must be as beautifully adorned by the plague of need for me too, for Kylo Ren seems to often twitch at the visions that swirl in his memory at the mere sight of me, sitting innocently in his classroom, where nothing innocent seems to happen whenever he mumbles for me to stay back. 

We were in serious trouble if anyone found out, but it seemed as if we were being less cautious than ever as our yearning for only more, seemed to cloud our judgement and leave us panicking in the few moments where we got to be alone. 

The last time we had manage to sneak back together, was two days ago, during the fragile hour between his classes, where Kylo had spotted me through the crowd and lead me to the handicapped toilets, where he had locked the door and slammed me against the vanity almost violently, bending me over and scampering his hands around my waist as his moans restricted behind tight lips. 

I can still see the slight bruises across my knuckles from searching and winding around anything in reach, to keep myself anchored up against the sinks as Kylo repetitively thrusted into me, causing the ceramic to clink loudly over our attempts to remain quiet. 

I longed to feel the tingly fire that ignited all over my skin, whenever his body made direct contact with mine. I couldn't wait to hear his low groans, mellow in my ear and his breath fan across my cheek, and as the afternoon classes seem to finish, after waiting for the time when I could finally escape and return back into his arms, I have to refrain from screaming with excitement even now, as I fold my arms over my chest and make my way to the back exit where Mr. Ren told me to meet him – But, I have to make a quick pit-stop first.

Despite the slow mending of my shattered heart, there was still a hollowness to the glass that often seemed to sharply jab at my insides and inject anxiety, as I still endlessly worry about that stupid poem and the competition.

Rachel Mathews has to win it and so far, all I know is that the poem that Kylo had entered on my behalf, seems to have a chance at winning, so I have to swap the name on the envelope before it is sent off to the publishing house.

And, after swiping the names over, if my poem which will be formally known as Rachel's, doesn't win – Well, I might as well sign off my whole future and pack my bags now, for I don't have a backup plan.

It was paramount that I make the first move though and swap the names, and I had tried so many times to ask my Father to hand me back the poem to add changes, but he refused every-time with the assumption that I would never return it – So, I had decided that I just needed to get into his office when he isn't there, and change it then.

I walked into the main office with wide eyes of a sensitive caution, this was the fourth time that I was simply checking to see if the office was empty, ready to bat my eyelashes to Mr. Ren's Wife to use her set of keys to open the office after I explain that I had left something of mine in there, but just like those other three times that I had arrived, I could see the bald head of my Father's through the slits of his blinds – That and, the golden waves of blonde hair too.