Boundaries

Wicked Game.

Khadijah and I sat in awkward silence, the sound of sirens screeching through the streets of London being our only company.

Part of me wondered if Hero was finally going to get caught tonight, perhaps being the reason that he pulled away from me so quickly.

He knew he was going to get caught.

Truth is, I've been trying to justify what happened between us for the past three hours.

We were playing a game, a dangerously wicked game.

Both trying to seduce the other, and while we both won at our own games, we lost each other's.

Somehow, we both got caught up in whatever bullshit was running through our minds and we couldn't contain the nauseating want and need for each other.

But there was something about Hero's sudden reaction to my wanting to get closer to him, as per usual, that threw me.

This wasn't about being pestered with personal questions.

This was about being intimate, and I had a feeling his own boundaries were getting the best of him.

Once again though, I felt a wave of anger and confusion overcome me.

I knew he wanted me.

I could see it in those damned green eyes.

I was finally able to give in to my thoughts and feelings and give myself to him.

Even though it hurt, I wanted him to reopen those wounds that I tried so desperately to heal so he could see who I really was.

Like I wanted to see who he really was.

But he did what I asked him not to do.

He let me go.

It was as if a switch flipped, and no amount of sitting around and thinking could justify any crazy theory I'd come up with.

Maybe he thought I was a terrible kisser.

Maybe he realized I wasn't good enough for him like he said.

I was no better than him.

Whatever it was, I was done playing this game.

It was too emotionally, and physically quite frankly, draining.

I needed to move on and not get hung up on some guy in a gang.

Sure, it was fun while it lasted, and while I thought there was a possibility for sparks to fly, I had to be realistic here.

I was Jo, the girl with scars and secrets.

And he was Hero, the boy with bruises and boundaries.

Perfectly imperfect, and our imperfections got the best of us.

"So," Khadijah breathes out, breaking the silence. "Who was that guy you were dancing on?"

"Nobody." I groan, taking a sip of my water.

Thankfully, I wasn't drunk, but I did feel a bit tipsy after downing two cups of whatever.

"Damn. I didn't think you had it in you." Khadijah admits with a laugh.

"Well, don't get too used to it. That Jo is dead and buried."

"Aw, I really liked that Jo." Khadijah pouts, causing me to laugh.

"I did too." I admit. Regardless of how pissed I was at Hero for killing my vibe, I have to admit I really liked how empowered I felt. Whether it was the outfit, or the drinks, or perhaps even dancing with a stranger, I hadn't felt this good in a long time.