Forever My Love boyxboy (Sequel to Forever My Hero)

I chew on my fingernails rather painfully as a nervous sweat drips down my spine. Of all the places for me to choose, why the hell did I go with the boys' locker room. This isn't exactly romantic or pleasant in smell. Nevertheless, he's late. God, why is he late? Is he not going to show up? I feel my wolf internally pacing with restlessness and my magic pulsating in the same emotion. This is much more stressful than I thought it would be. 

"Come on," I murmur quietly to myself, wiping my sweating hands on the front of my turquoise sweatshirt -- straightening it out afterwards. I nervously brush my hair out of my eyes and twiddle my thumbs.

Being startled by the sound of the locker room door opening, I gasp and jump back at the sudden noise, causing the boy that's entering to give me a questioning look. 

"Sorry I'm late. That bitch of an English teacher wasn't letting us leave until we were silent. God, I swear that she is Satan." He grins stupidly at me. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Avoiding his beautiful, chocolate brown eyes, I nibble on my lower lip and look to the floor. One would think that I'm being obvious, but he's so oblivious that it's almost painful. "I-I need to tell you something," I say quietly, looking up at him through my lashes as his handsome face reverts to one of confusion and curiosity. 

"What's up? You know you can tell me anything," he responds, gently grabbing my shoulder. The touch -- even being as small as it is -- makes my heart beat wildly in my chest.

"Promise not to freak out," I beg quietly, looking into his eyes seriously, fighting the overwhelming urge to glance away in embarrassment. 

When he nods, looking more concerned than I've seen him in quite a while, I take the chance of leaning up and swiftly yet gently letting my lips meet his. He stays still for a moment, in shock of my admittedly very forward move. And then, I feel his warm hands grip my hips as he starts to kiss me back -- making my heart practically soar in happiness. But it all goes to shit the minute I make a small moan.

Suddenly, my back is slammed into the lockers, probably bruising me for a few minutes, and a stinging sensation burns my cheek, making me taste blood. Gasping in pain and shock, I cup my cheek and look up to him. His eyes are conflicted, obviously, but he holds more anger in his chocolatey gaze than any other emotion I can see, hear, or smell. Still in shock from the punch he bestowed upon me, I sit there quietly -- looking up at him with wide eyes as a small trickle of blood leaks from the corner of my mouth.

"Don't do that," he growls out. "I'm not a fucking fag like you. I don't like shit like that, you fucking sicko." His anger is definitely clouding the things he's saying, but it is still the most painful wound I've ever been inflicted.

Finally seeming to come to my senses, I hastily stand up and fearfully back away from him. What kind of werewolf am I? Why am I so scared of my human mate? Is it because I know that I won't do anything to retaliate? I would simply sit there and take whatever he does to me, and the thought is almost as painful as being struck by him.

As if realizing what he's done, his glare falls, and he looks to his still clenched fist in horror -- swallowing thickly as tears start to spill down my cheeks -- mixing with the blood dribbling down my chin. 

"A-Aaron," he calls out weakly, his voice drippin with pain and guilt, but it's far too late. I'm already out the door with my back to him and my legs carrying me away at full speed. I don't even notice the leaves and branches that scratch at my already wounded face as hot and salty tears escape with painful sobs that cause my chest and heart to ache. Is this what heartbreak feels like? It feels like I'm dying.

The only good of this is that I can choose to graduate early tomorrow. I'm leaving this school. I'm leaving him, and I don't ever plan on going back. 

But why does this hurt so much?