seventeen

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evangeline stepped closer to patrick, inhaling loudly. "your hair smells different when you're awake" she whispered, her voice coming darkly out of the back of her throat. patrick felt his insides bubble with fury. he clenched his fists and pulled his arm back, but before he could swing she was whisked away by her prissy friends as the second bell rang out. all he could do was stand there, seething and shaking with rage.

evangeline tactfully avoided the boy for the rest of the day, aside from a few instances he caught the shine of her hair disappear around a corner or behind a classroom door. vic was the only one of the gang to notice patrick's change in demeanour, though he knew better than to pry and didn't say anything when the lanky teen announced he was passing up a ride home in belch's car, assuming he was off to his spot at the junkyard as per usual. the second the home bell rang, patrick was uncharacteristically sprinting out of the door, only stopping once he reached the prime position, leaning against his locker, waiting for the she-demon to stroll past before she could slip away. he was beginning to wonder if she'd slipped out a back door, but once he smelled her sickly sweet perfume he was on her trail like a bloodhound. he waited a few seconds behind as she turned each corner, hiding behind a pillar as she said goodbye to her friends and broke off from the pack to walk home. alone.

of course evangeline knew he was behind her. he was  nearly 6 feet tall in combat boots, shrouded in black on a sunny september afternoon. she followed the footpath home at a pace that conveyed she was in no hurry, seemingly unaware of her stalker. at first. she met a fork in the road, choosing the forest road that lead to the kissing bridge, rather than the safe, sunny path home. as she turned the corner, she gripped her backpack straps and picked up her pace.

this confirmed patrick's suspicions; she knew he was there. this didn't deter him. as she picked up her pace, so did he. eventually, she broke out in a fast walk, quickly turning to a sprint, his gangly legs keeping pace with a brisk walk. finally she reached the kissing bridge, stopping just short of the covered overpass. her hands grasping the wooden barrier, she turned to face him momentarily, a look of fear in her eyes quickly turning to mischief. he stopped in his tracks, gauging her next move. with a smirk, she threw herself over the bridge, tumbling down the hilly forest floor in her cream silk dress.

patricks instincts kicked in, launching his gangly body over the fence and after the girl. he heard the leaves and rocks crunch violently under his body, eventually his boots as he found his feet. he stood and caught his breath quietly, his ears on high alert, listening out for any sign of movement.

nothing.

evangeline swiftly swung down from a sturdy branch, hanging upside down to face him.
"what kinda shampoo do you use? 2-in-1?" she jested. his hand flew up to grab her by a braided pigtail, pulling her to the ground where she well-nigh fell on her neck. as she groaned upon impact, he threw himself on top of her, his bony hands pinning her wrists to the dirt, his pelvis holding her body down.
"what. the fuck. do you want." he asked in between breaths, still catching his breath. she looked up to him, silent as a mouse, drinking in his face up-close for the first time. the bumps on his forehead, threatening to become pus-filled whiteheads. the hair from his head, several strands millimetres from poking his eyeballs. she took a slow, deep breath and clenched her toes. her leg jerked up and her knee met with his crotch, patrick's face and body immediately contorting in pain. she pushed her right forearm against his chest and turned him over until she was on top, her left hand reaching under her dress to grab a switchblade clipped to her underwear. she clicked open the blade and held it against his neck, his hands frozen above him in shock.

patrick's breathing became shallow, feeling the metal against his oesophagus everytime he inhaled. he didn't know what to expect, he played every scenario in his head; she slits his throat. she stabs him. she gets up and leaves.
instead, she grips the bottom of the bandage wrapped around her hand with her teeth and rips it off, revealing a circular puncture mark. she brings her free hand back down towards the knife to where he couldn't see, his head movement restricted by the blade. she slices a deep cut along her palm, nostrils flaring as it agitates her wound. she takes a moment, breathing deeply, her eyes glazing over. she smacks her palm onto his cheek, earning a grunt, and drags it down his face, covering it in crimson as the cut continued to bleed heavily. her hand lands palm down in the dirt as she lowers her face to his, and following the path of her hand, she licks a trail up his face. patrick had no idea how to feel in this moment. he had no idea what to think. to him, it was an awakening, a new puzzle piece to use, to figure out who the fuck she really was. to her - it was her ritual. instead of a book, a polaroid, a dead raccoon. it was him.

she swished the blood and saliva in her mouth as she moved herself to face him, her head just above his. slowly, she let the bloody drool fall from her lips, a single strand slowly stretching down, threatening to drip onto his face, before sucking is back up. she felt him tense up slightly - it wasn't enough. she aimed again, this time getting millimetres from his eye. she saw his knuckles whiten as he palmed the dirt below him, the wrinkles on his forehead protrude in disgust. finally, she aimed a little lower, just above where she had slapped him and let the drivel slide off his bloody face as it grimaced, sustaining a grunt in disgust from the back of his throat. this was enough to satiate her - for now. enough to satiate her, and hopefully enough to reel him in, she thought.

she pushed herself up from the ground, taking the bandage and knife with her as she did. he sat up as he watched her walk back up the hill, stabbing the knife into a tree and flipping the blade back into it's hilt. his eyes widened at evangeline raising the hem of her dress to her hipbone,taking in her porcelain-like skin as she clipped the knife back to the waistband of her underwear. he watched her wrap the bandage around her hand as she traipsed back up the hill, and out of sight.

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👉🏼👈🏼 dont be mad guys... i'm BACK! sorry this took... literal months. everythings been insane but i keep thinking of all these juicy things to put in the story before i fall asleep and i cannot WAIT to write them for you. thank you so much for voting and commenting, keep it up ! it makes my day!

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