Jenna Ortega Imagines

The Power of a Writer

(A/N: first Cairo post since I watched Miller's Girl. I must say... it's a very good and interesting film. I really liked it)

2nd Person POV:

You strutted your way through the hall of your high school, your knee-higher skirt swaying along with your hips as your steps made you seem more intimidating. Your combat boots clicked against the floor, the blue buttoned blouse that strung from your body was silky and slightly breezy.

You entered Mr. Miller's classroom being a few minutes late, nobody minded. Mr. Miller simply allowed you to take your seat and jump in halfway through what they were doing.

You took your seat beside Cairo, her eyes drifting over to you from the paper in front of her. Her posture and almost everything about her seemed so... captivating. You admired that. Just as she admired you.

As the bell rang to signal the next class will begin soon, you gathered your materials. Cairo paused her actions to turn towards you as she saw your mouth open to speak — sparing a small glance up at Mr. Miller.

"When you have the time..." You began with a soft tone, the sound of it made Cairo think of it as enthralling. "And when you stop messing around with Miller." You continued with your voice dropping an octave to a whisper, smirking when Cairo's eyebrow raised. "Read this."

Cairo licked her sudden dry lips as you pulled out a clear and organized folder. Inside, a very detailed essay. A personal one specifically written for Cairo Sweet. "What's this?" She asked, taking it from your hands as she examined the title.

The Power Of A Writer.

"Just read it when you're alone." You appointed, throwing your bag over your shoulders delicately. The two of you began to make your way out of the classroom.

Cairo slightly smirked at your words, her tone playful yet deceiving. "Why? Is it another very detailed smut essay for me to masturbate to?" Her sentence made you smirk again, letting out a chuckle.

"Occasionally it would be, but no." You stopped in good tracks to look at her, your hand settling on her chest, just below her collarbone. Her body froze under your touch, it was euphoric. "Read it and tell me what you think when I come over afterward. Then after that... I'll tell you why I wrote it and who it's about."

Cairo smirked as she shamelessly stared at you while you walked off. Your motives were clear, as clear as glass. You both knew that. So... heading to her next class, she took your essay out of her bag.

Muting the words of others, she began to read it.

-

"I take it you've read it." You smiled as you entered Cairo's bedroom, running your hand along the plants that ran along the walls of it. Cairo never took her eyes off you, an unreadable expression on her face as a silent tension filled the room.

"The entire thing entices me." Cairo finally spoke up, inviting your attention towards her. "This line... "The power of a writer is like a gravitational pull from readers to their work."" You gestured for her to continue reading as you sat beside her. "But these last few ones intrigue me... "They have full control of what happens in their story and what happens in others as well, meaning the author thyself; knows of ways to control people without their books" I need to know what that means."

"It simply means what it means." Cairo's breath hitched with each second you drew closer to her. "It's about you, Cairo. You think you could seduce me like Miller but no, I'm smarter than you noted. You're so lucky I let you take advantage of me like that."

"Why?" Was all Cairo could ask at the moment.

You let out a small breath, drawing your hand across her chest and bare shoulders that stuck out from the strapless dress she wore. "Because it allowed me to play with you like you did me." You straddled her waist, her eyes peer into yours. "You think you have all the control but honey, oh honey." You let out a chuckle. "You have none."

"None?" Cairo questioned again, ignoring the way your hands skidded up and down her body like a piece of art strung high in a museum.

"Mhm." You nodded, pursing your lips. "You can play with boys like Miller, but sometimes, girls like me won't allow you to walk all over us."

Cairo shook her head. "It wasn't my intention, no, but I knew I was losing control the minute I let your touch invade me." She whispered as she recalled the night the two of you shared not too long ago after her encounter with Mr. Miller.

"I knew it too. And you won't ever get it back." You leaned in closed to her ear, your warm breath wrapping around her body, sending a miraculous feeling down Cairo's spine. "Soon enough, every writer knows of the power they hold. But my dear, Cairo Sweet, you are a writer who has controlled power and I, your elegant queen as quoted by you, am the one who has your attention. Not Miller, not Winnie... me." You quoted from your own essay and Cairo let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in after you left her lap. "Still wanna play with Miller?"

"No..." Cairo whispered, her tone clearing losing whatever dominance she was able to use against Winnie and Miller. "He's not mine and I'm not his."

"Then who's are you?" You questioned — even if you both knew the answer — you lifted her chin up quicker than she could allow her eyes to drop to the ground.

Cairo hesitated for a moment but the burning stare from you was breaking her façade. "Y-Yours." Her walls crashed down as the feisty girl let you in. You smirked, placing a kiss on her cheek.

"I know." You picked up your essay with a deep tone. "I wrote about it." You soon snatched your bag off of her bedside table, beginning to make your getaway. "And I am the writer who holds the power over you."

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A/N:
At first I was worried if anyone would even understand what I'm writing about but... idc. So I said fuck it let's post the very first Cairo Sweet chapter