Golden Hour (GarouxReader lemon)

Part 3

Ok, I'm gonna stop saying how many more parts this story will have because frankly I don't know! Haha! But here is the next little instalment :)

~*~

Some of the things she said, they sound like empty platitudes, I think as I try not to get too used to the hot water but damn it feels fucking good.
Two minutes, I remind myself. Two minutes.
'You have so much potential' and all that bs I've heard so many fucking times before. Teachers, that old man...But they never mean it. It's just one of those things they're taught to say to a kid to get them to shut up, to believe in themselves but it ain't nothing but false hope.
Potential in what? You notice how vague those words are? Empty compliments so the pathetic kid won't feel so fucking bad.
I would know.
Two minutes.
But then, she never said 'you have potential'. She said I had things going for me. Well, that ain't a lie. I've picked up a thing or two over the years and I can feel that cocky pride creeping up on my face again. I can't help it.
You could say I'm really a Cinderella story, if instead of a ball Cinderella went underground and beat the shit out of everyone who made her life hell when everyone least expected it. Or somethin' like that.
But then this little voice in the back of my mind says, and then what?
But two minutes are almost up.
What do you mean, and then what?
That's the goal, ain't it? To get to the top and show everyone... To become the greatest threat so no one fucking even dares to think about looking in my direction. About making some miserable kid's life a living hell just because he doesn't know how to throw a punch.
There's a lot of injustice in this world.
She said she didn't know what was in that head of mine...But there it is. I'm trying to even out the balance of power, see. Because if the underdog doesn't rise up, these people will forget, will think they can walk all over everyone. Someone's gotta put them in their place.
Shit, two minutes.
I turn the water off, reluctantly I gotta say.
And then what?
Ah, shut the fuck up.

I had thought no one understood me. Call it arrogance but that's what I'd been shown again and again. No one understood why the fuck I did what I did. Even back then, even when I wasn't starting it, just a stupid weak kid trying to stand up for himself. But somehow it always backfired. I was always the one in trouble. So many words tossed around: troublemaker, delinquent, aggressive tendencies, defiance, I think I even heard 'unhinged' once. They thought I'd hear these things and cower, frightened to be thought of as this terrible thing. But it just added welcome fuel to the fire. The more they called me a monster the more I wanted to become one and show them all.

I have to admit, it may have gotten a little out of hand at some point, when they called that old man in since there was no one else to call and explained the situation to him. That I'd no longer be welcome at school. They even took out a trespass notice against me. And I took that personally and with pride.

But then she'd gone and looked down on it all, on everything I was doing, reduced it all to school yard scraps. And it felt like a slap in the face. What would she know anyway? But the way she said it, not making a mockery of me, but as if she was explaining some reality I hadn't thought of. And for a moment I wanted to be in the grown up world there with her. Where this bullshit didn't matter. Just for a moment. And least of all, I never thought I'd actually make it here, into her bedroom...

I push all that goddamn thinking away, pulling these clothes back on, also reluctantly. Half-heartedly still hoping she'll join me in here, but no such fucking luck.

"Just put it on the floor there," she says, looking up at me from the couch she's curled up on as I stand in the hallway, towel in hand. What, on the floor right there?
"Yeah, just chuck it on the floor," she says to my confused expression, wiggling her spoon at me to indicate it's fine.
Feels kinda...impolite but I'll do as I'm told here.
"Come," she says, waving the teaspoon towards herself now and then pointing to the small colourful bowl she's got set out on the coffee table, just like the one she's holding. "Or are you telling me you're so bad ass you don't like ice cream?"
Fuck no. I fucking love ice cream! But...
The whole point was to get away quickly and now...
"You're impossible," she says, shaking her head.
Alright, fine. If she's gone to all that trouble.