"You moved on...I did too.
But can you hear that...its the echoes of our long lost love."
* ** ** **
Kent's POV
Her eyes are like nimbus clouds.
Cloudy and dark, a rumbling calm storm destroying everything in it's path.
There are times when the gray of her eyes seemed pitch black, an inky void that gives the wild promise of terrors of horrifying nightmares. Staring into them chills me to the bone. it feels as if iciness spreads through my naked skin, leaking into the inner flame of bravery I'd lit up and making me freeze.
Ivy Bathory is everything dark.
Her long hair is a shiny inky jet black, flowing sleekly down her shoulders and stopping just above the waist of the black ripped denim jeans she wears. Her well -rounded soft pink lips are deviously puckered, plump and shaped perfectly with a cupid's bow, the edges just as sharp as her razor sharp eyebrows. Her body, a curvaceous figure, seemed only moulded for the darkest of intentions.
Everything about her screamed 'I dare you!"
She scared me. Utterly!
It isn't a surprise that over ninety percent of the school did the sensible and stayed away from her. The five percent sympathizers were no better, only being able to watch her from their sidelines. And the leftover five percent that actual did cross her line, came back with a scar to remember the inevitable moments with dread.
It was also clear to most of the students that Ivy Bathory was beautiful. Devilishly beautiful, to be exact. Even with her reputation and bad references, she's been ranked the second most gorgeous girl who ever roamed the school's halls. Boys droll over her when they're sure she isn't seeing and girls wish to be as beautiful as her from behind their bedroom doors.
Even I have noticed her beauty. But its hard to think past that line when she bleeds darkness itself.
But for some unknown reason, Mr. Vincent found her rather amusing.
"Would you stop smiling?" I frown for the fourth time.
He ticks something on a piece of paper, still smiling broadly.
"Is she..." Clara trails off, her usual big bright eyes drained of the usual life in them. She looks at me. "Are you okay, Kent?"
I could almost relive the moment, how she'd been so close, the thin tip of her nose brushing the naked crook of my neck. How she'd breathed in my fragrance, taking it in slowly, as though she could taste it on her tongue. The way her voice had hissed into my ears, like an icy winter breeze.
I shiver, her ghostly scent of vanilla and coconut consuming and handling me with a deathly grip.
"I-I'm good." I try smiling, but Clara has always been able to tell when I'm lying. She lets the matter go though, seemingly disturbed as well.
Mr. Vincent rubs the unshaven scruff of blonde beard on his chin, grumbling. "She was just teasing you, Kent. She won't actually hurt you. I think."
"You think?" Clara looks at him with bewilderment, perfectly curved brows raising in alarm. "So she could hurt him? Aren't you going to do something about that?"
Mr. Vincent yawns, stretching his absurdly long arms. "Not really. How many times has she threatened students and not really acted on it, huh?"
I blanch. "She was threatening me? I-It didn't sound like that."
He smiles. "She was being polite."
If that was her being polite, I didn't want to know what her dark side was truly like.
YOU ARE READING
Ivy Bathory
Romance▪▪▪ I trace my index finger along his jaw, feeling the smooth softness of the sharp line. He shivers at the touch, trying to dissolve himself into the bookshelf at his back "The first time we met, you didn't seem to like me." I said painfully slow...
