Violently Beautiful [4] Weirdness

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Without a second thought, I push off the wall sending me, and whoever the freak on top of me was, onto the floor. Springing to my feet, I keep my eyes on the crumpled body and decide to make the best of having the upper hand. A swift kick in the gonads and I was in business. Huh, I knew all those action movies would come in handy one day. Despite the bad lighting, I could make out the body of my attacker in the cheap yellow light. Looking closer, I see the deranged twit who had pounced on my like I was a friggin' show pony, was actually a boy.

Not the cute little, gap-toothed boy your all thinking of and not the old perve I was expecting, about 20 years old. A perve none the less. Slowly, the boy rises to his feet, making me smirk when he limps slightly in his haste. In a flash, my good humour was gone and replaced by a silver blade gently palmed in his hand. Well damn.

Backing away, my eye starts twitching uncontrollably as I watch the blade glint dangerously in the dark. Deciding to put a stop to it's twitchiness, I put my finger on my lower lid. But it just, kept, twitching, on.

"What the fuck do you think your doing, hot shot!?" I demand backing away, freaked by the weapon and my weird reaction to it.

Despite the situation, when perve boy stepped into the moonlight I couldn't help but do a second take. For a minute, I appreciatively take in his cropped black hair tossed carelessly over his grey eyes. The faint trace of stubble across his cheeks dipping into the tip of his chin, as well as being dressed in all black. The guy was damn sexy.

Smirking, perve boy began to make his way over to me. Well great, he saw me get all gooey eyed over him. What the hell was I thinking anyway? For all I know this sexy guy could secretly have a stuffed animal fetish.

Maybe we could do a swap, a couple of stuffed bunnies for my life.

"What do you think your doing!?" I snap, backing away. A sudden snarl rips though my chest making him pause and study me with curiosity.

"No, you've got it wrong." He declares, crossing his arms across his chest. "The question isn't 'What are you doing?' Obviously, I was walking towards you." Perve boy chuckles at his own joke. I raise an eyebrow disbelief. Does it look like I give a flying whoop?

"No, see the question should be 'What are you about to do?'" He spoke in a high pitched voice in an attempt to sound like me. I sound so much sexier than that. "And more importantly, who am I going to do it with?" He finishes, now half a foot in front of me. How the hell could he get close enough, that he's practically breathing in my face, without me noticing?

And what he said, that didn't make any sense. I know who I am, and some hot guy (who likes to jump on girls), thinks he knows the real me. Where does he get off?

"I know who I am." I say, throwing his own smirk back at him.

"Are you sure about that?" He questions, making my smirk falter slightly. Determined to prove the dick wrong, I nod my head once in answer to his question.

Shaking his head he slowly moves around me, silver knife flashing as if to remind me of it's presence and to respect it. Quickly, almost too quick to see, he brushes the flat side of the knife against my left forearm. Gasping in pain, I snatch my arm away and caress the irritated red skin. Glaring at my arm with watery eyes, I swing my other arm out, aiming precisely for his cheek.

Grabbing my wrist at the last moment, he keeps a firm grip as he waits for my temper to fade out. Damn him, for stopping me before I could place a well earned slap on that sexy cheek of his. 

"You're not listening." He growls, his breath caressing my inner wrist making my breath hitch. "Think Caitlyn."

I thought, I really did, but I couldn't think of anything that answered any of those stupid questions. Shrugging, I look up into his eyes but quickly look away when I see the anger swirling in them.

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