Mary Patterson's p.o.v.
I can't believe it, it was happening so fast.
Like a movie, I could see different angles of it. Greedy hands running over the chocolate skin of my arms, creating goosebumps. A tingling after effect is left on me. My hands find him, nails digging into his flesh. Leaving red, purple, blue marks on his light back. He kisses my neck softly. Soft moans, rough huffs, and groans echo the room repeatedly.
I still could not believe it.
My hand follows up his spine, to his neck, slowly moving closer to touch his face. Making him face me again since we've started. I stare into his natural ocean like eyes. His eyelashes, long, golden, and they move as if they were a bird about to take flight in slow motion. And right before I could get lost forever in them... his eyes soften, his mouth parts, and my eyes, half closed.
I swear, for a moment, I could feel my breath hiccup when his rosy, bruised lips rub against my own plump ones. It feels so... it feels so cold.
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Aw dammit!
What's wrong with me?' I rub my temples as I think of the fantasy. Picking my head from the desk, I look around the empty classroom. Then at the spot I kissed on my desk 'Why the hell-...oh wait, am I late?!' I gather my things as fast as I could before rushing towards the door. Running through the corridor, praying that Mrs. Anderson would look past me like she usually does. 'Why didn't someone wake me? Well, yeah I'm not the most popular girl but come on! The teacher! Why couldn't she wake me?!'
'Fuck, I'm so late! If only I didn't think about-ow!' The books I was carrying fling into the air. Landing on the pale green floor which is dusted with dirt and past due balled up homework. My notes from the last class fall like gentle feathers in the air.
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(A/N you should listen to Lost at sea by Zedd for the dream part or Zedd radio on Pandora, I am :3)
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'Perfect, some dickbutt knocked over the fat black girl, fucking great. Not only am I late, I'm on the floor with my fat ass on some poor boy. Oh man, this is embarrassing.'
As I lay still nervously on top of him -I know it's a male because my hand is on his Adam's apple- I try to regain my head since I apparently have lost it on the fall. We stay in this position for about three minutes, that's not until I feel him gulp, causing that weird thing in his neck moves... ugh, that's just... no.
My thoughts come back to me, realizing... I have been laying on a guy for seven minutes now. Heat rises to my chunky cheeks -though, most will never know if they don't touch my cheeks- when I move to get off him and apologize, I feel a pair of strong hands hold my thighs down in the same place when we fell.
My blush deepens, a flash of my dream comes back to me, and unconsciously, my hands find his chest. My breasts pressed against his chest make it a bit hard to do that.
"My dream... is imperfect"
"... you shouldn't say that, love. Why say that?" A deep English voice said, questioning my outburst.
"Um-..." What could I say to that?! I don't even know why I said that. Wait... that voice! Oh hell no!
"Let me go, Charles." I say after recognizing the voice, I look up at him, he smirked. "Oh darling, I know you love me still. It's completely understandable, we're perfect but-" Charles switched to a serious face from his usual glee one. He moved us to sitting up, his hands still on my thighs.
Rising them a bit more than my liking. I look into his green, pleading eyes, my own narrowed.
"I miss my best friend." He finishes, I sigh, getting off of him, I brush my outfit off. 'Where the hell is everyone?! We were there for at least ten minutes!' I think.
I look over to him, he's standing up tall, his shoulder long, brown hair is now coated with a thin layer of dust. Clothes, a little messy but he'll live. He looks like Harry Styles, even came from England but he's no singer.
Charles Hemlock the third is a football player for our school's team. He is a junior, his boyfriend is a senior, like myself. Charles and I grew up together. In the same neighborhood when he was 11 and I, 12. When he was a baby up until 10, he was living in London with his rich grandfather then came here to live with a cocaine lover of a mother and her pimp/boyfriend.
Now, our neighborhood isn't... the best but its better than nothing. It changed Charles, made him stronger, made him get off his high horse and kind. Heh, we didn't get along well at first either. I would beat him up time to time when he wanted to call us poor kids names and talk down to us. I would have to remind him that he was in the same boat as the rest of us.
We became friends, been with each other through thick and thin. I was even there when he told his mother and her new African American "boyfriend" that he was gay. His grandfather and I were so proud of him. A few nights after that... Charles was attacked by that drunk fuck, trying to rape him while he was sleeping.
He was arrested for that and countless other things. But, Charles mother being the dumb bitch she is, said that her only son was lying and kicked him out because her boyfriend would never ever do something like that. Her 11 year old... lied about something like that.
Not Charles, Charles would never.
Charles, already use to living with a broke mother that probably didn't give a fuck about him, left him in the streets. Charles came to me and my family.
He was living with us for years and then when one day, after he met his boyfriend, went to live with him... That's okay.
"..ling... darl... darling, are you well?" My friend says to me after I remembered Charles past. He was there when I became fat. But that's another story I wish not to bring up.
I nod my head, reassuring Charles. "Yeah, it's just... it has been a weird day so far, heh." My cheeks heat when a flash of the fantasy pop up. "I know, bruh. Can we skip class today, please! Not this one, the one after this. Please Mary!" I giggle at his tone, it's funny to hear him say stuff like that. He has a different thing for everyone. When he's at the bank, it's his normal voice, with his other friends, it's a bit deeper. I don't know, meh.
Charles and I were fighting but we could never be mad at each other for long. We haven't seen each other in days. I told him, he and his boyfriend should dress like Larry. He blushed, and told me that's not why he's dating him because he looks like a singer in some boy band. Ha! Oh geez, that gets me every time!'
"Fine, let's just get to class." I say as we start down the way of the class after picking up my supplies. "We still have time for class work, can you hold these, please?" I say, wanting to fix my clothes more. "Of course, Mary. Hand it over then." Charles said, a smile on his features, stopping in front of the door to our class. I hand the books to him and I adjust my favorite blue skinny jeans and I make sure my cotton, white shirt makes them think I'm... not so fat. After thinking it over, I pull my shirt up a bit, to cover up my cleavage. Blushing when I do.
Charles watches me struggle trying to adjust my bra, he laughed. "Haha! So that's why, eh? You and your milk holders are fine!" Still laughing at my actions. "Shh! Could you be any louder?! I just-ugh! Shut up!" I whisper not so quietly, sounding threatening.
"You better hope no one heard you." I add, taking my bag from him.
Charles opens the door, just enough for the students inside to scan me. I stand there, I wish I could say I was emotionless but I was nothing of the sort. I try to play it cool, like I wasn't shaking or I wasn't sweating or afraid of what they might say.
'Charles, please come and see I need a little help.'
