My Opp's Sister

𝟑

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐜𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

If you were any lighter, your cheeks would've gone red. He's just walked in on you. And you're naked. "What the fuck!" You grabbed Marcel's jacket and hid your body with it. "Do you know how to knock?"

"It's my house," he shrugged, "I don't need to knock. Where's the key?"

"What key?" Not only are you embarrassed, you're confused. Because this guy could've closed the door when he realised you were naked. But he didn't. He just stared at you. "Can you leave?"

"It's my house," he repeated. "I'll leave when you tell me where the fuckin key is."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know what key you're talking about! You can't just barge in here when I'm naked."

"Did I know you was naked?"

"That's why you KNOCK!" You can't believe this. It's not rocket science - what doesn't he understand? You have no idea what key he's on about, but he's getting on your nerves. "I can answer your questions when you let me get changed."

"TJ... or whatever the fuck you called him. He's dead. If you come downstairs and see his head on the floor, don't bug out. My neighbours hate noise." He eyed you again, but didn't say anything else.

"Ok! Can you leave now?!"

He frowned, coming inside and closing the door. "What did I just tell you about noise? I dare you to make one more sound."

You noticed how he liked to use that phrase a lot. 'I dare you.' Why the fuck was he always daring people? "What's your issue with this key?! If The Safe's already been broken into and all the shit's been stolen, what use is the fucking key?!"

"Why you raising your voice at man?" His nonchalance was aggravating. You could feel sweat growing on your palms, making the jacket slip. "This is none of your business, darlin. So for the last time, stop making noise." He eyed your body. "No point hiding. I've seen it all before."

He left the room, and you heard his steps going downstairs. You flopped onto the bed. Buried your face in your hands. And just cried. There's so much pain in your heart and you don't know what to do with it. It's all building up inside you and you wanna let it out. So you did what Marcel loved. He loved to hear you sing. His favourite song - though he'd never admit it - was Body Party by Ciara.

There was a Bluetooth speaker in the room. You connected your phone to it and played the song from your Spotify playlist while you got dressed. And you sang along, not holding back the emotion.

My body is your party, baby

Nobody's invited but you, baby

I can do it slow now, tell me what you want-

The door barged open again, making you jump. The boy - you realise that you don't even know his name - has once again, walked in on you half naked. But he looks extremely angry. "Turn that shit off now!" He bellowed.

His voice shook the walls. You could barely hear the song over it. The music did something to him; you could tell. You didn't know if it was this song in particular, but the sound of the music was vexing him. And for some reason, you liked it when he was vexed.

Because he looked sexier? Who knows.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧

He'd been staring at you. Unfocused. For the past 5 minutes.

You were on the bus, going to pick up your GCSE results and a mixed race boy with curly hair had his eyes on you. You couldn't tell if he was interested or not, but he was a good looking boy. As good looking as the short tempered, violent, quick mouthed dickhead you're staying with?
No. Not that good looking.