Genius (CENTURIES series: Book #2)

9

"Mm, sucks, doesn't it?"

She looked up and frowned at him. He was glaring at her with only the slightest hint of sarcasm, but other than that, he just looked cold and emotionless.

"I have a question for you," He then continued, languidly walking closer, almost stalk-prey-like. "If you thought us fucking was a mistake the first time, why did you come back for more then?"

Oh he was sly, Mia thought and gritted her teeth. There was no way she was going to say what he wanted her to say; I came back for more because the dick is too good!

– Fat chance.

Instead, Mia toughened up and straightened her back. "I came back because I needed intel on your tattoos. And by the way, you can not compare what you and I did in that studio with what you did to this school. What we did was—"

"—was impulsive and done on an overdose of adrenalin," He cut in and walked even closer. "What I did was exactly the same. Only I got a fine and court mandated community service; You got a reprimand and even got to keep it secret from the rest of the school. Imagine having pretentious people stare at you all day long, judging you for something you never planned on doing."

"What?" Mia blinked when something suddenly clicked inside her head. "You didn't plan on trashing the school?"

"No. Why the fuck would I waste my time with this place?"

"Then why the hell did you do it?!" Mia angrily snapped, walking up to him, completely abandoning the fact that she was supposed to be cleaning. "If you didn't want anything to do with this place, then why—"

"Sounds like you're about to cross the whole non-of-your-fucking-business-line one more time," Eli interrupted with a cold tone. "So stop talking and mop the fucking floor, bitch."

"Excuse me?" Mia seethed, rage clouding her mind. "What did you just fucking call me?!"

Eli dramatically rolled his eyes. "Jesus fucking Christ, you rich chicks overreact to every single little thing. If I call you princess, you bitch; If I call you bitch, you act like a Prada princess. Will you fucking get your shit straight?"

"Me, get my shit straight?!" Mia yelled, "You're the one who's the criminal, who's on probation, and that's putting it nicely! Do you even know what they're saying about you in the hall?" She snarled, her nostrils flaring. "They're calling you a thug and a—"

"I really don't give a damn about what shitty things you pretentious people are saying behind my back," Eli scoffed. "Honestly, that just means you're focusing on my problems rather than fixing your goddamn own. And you, Mia, have one huge, fucking problem."

Mia just stared, boiling with anger. "I'm the one with a problem?"

"Yeah," He answered and stepped up to her so close, Mia felt herself shrink under his dark gaze. "You call yourself an artist, but you don't fucking see shit. You're shallow. You look at my tattoos, not into them. A fucking proper artist wouldn't have to fuck her way into learning what she needs to know like some whore who's out for a little somethin-somethin."

"How dare you fucking call me a—"

"You're just like every person I pass in the hall; Narrow-minded, blind," He hissed, talking over her. "You look and you look, but you never see a damn thing, except for all my fucking flaws. So yeah, I fuck you," He whispered, leaning down to Mia's face. "Because it messes the fuck out of you and because I love seeing you try to hopelessly figure it all out afterwards. You get desperate – and trust me baby, people do wild things when they're desperate, and I love wild."