Dirty || Seulrene FF

-eight-

Those of us who sin...
...sin sweetly

~~~

"Horangi high! Are you ready for victory?!"

The uproarious sea of students cheered enthusiastically at the obnoxious antics of the goofy announcer who bounced hyperactively around the basketball court like a rabid animal. Blaring trumpets and clashing percussions riveted throughout the massive gymnasium with every rhapsodic question he'd fire at the spirit driven crowd.

I was slouched over the railings barred high above the action, peering down nauseously at my imbecile classmates as they were continuously goaded to hoot and hollar at one another.

Sheep.

I'm literally surrounded by a herd of brainless, shallow, overly pretentious, bandwagoning sheep.

But that's what high school's all about, right?

Being a fucking moron.

So damn thirsty for popularity.

Gluttonous for acceptance.

Pathetic.

It's this kind of rambunctious fuckery that usually repels me away from these silly rallies.

So why the hell am I even here?

My question was promptly answered when a certain sensational jade-eyed infatuation of mine took center court, threaded exquisitely in her form fitting cheer uniform that showcased her bombshell body impeccably.

Oh, yeah.

Her.

My breathing labored as I watched Irene elegantly prance into the spotlight, successfully achieving exactly what the foolish announcer couldn't.

My excitement.

I hung on every energetic cheer she chanted.

Every routine she flawlessly conducted.

Perfection at it's best.

Twelve other fair skinned beauties flocked before me dressed in the same moderately revealing blue and white ensemble, ripe for the picking.

Yet, I only saw her.

A mythical Goddess enwrapped in mortal skin.

A merciless beauty that meddles with my sanity, setting my damned soul ablaze---

---Scorching me with eternal desire.

It's all her.

Only her.

When it came time for the marching band to take over, the cheerleaders quickly trotted off court and huddled together tiredly on the freshly polished floor.

A window of opportunity presented itself as I caught Irene fiddling with her phone, taking casual lady like sips from her water bottle.

My hand anxiously fumbled inside my blazer pocket to retrieve my own cell.

I hope you realize just how fuckable you look right now.

-xxx

She was in mid-swig when she read my message, a lone hand raking through her tousled curls as she basked in my fervid remark.

You make me realize it.

-IB

Chills trickled up my spine.