Hello dear all, after a break due to lack of time, I'm finally back with updates and here comes a new part of "Loving you is forbidden".
Let me tell you that at first I had not planned to write this part, but after reading how you were interested in seeing how Oleg would deal with that teacher, well, I decided it would be actually good to write it. So I really hope you'll enjoy it and I'll be looking forward to reading your comments and messages and actually, let me thank all of you for them: THANK YOU!!! They always bring a big smile to my face :-)
Dedicated to all of you and in particular to Redkia, because I know how much you like Oleg and here we sure have a long Oleg POV, so hope you'll like it! Thanks for your lovely msg and comments! xox
On the right, a wonderful banner Klovis made for me: thank you darl! <3
Then, warning: this chapter has mature contents, but we already know the rating of the story.
Now, enjoy!
OLEG POV
"Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged." Samuel Johnson
I looked at the papers my friend, a private detective that had one of the best reputations in his circle, gave me and after reading them, I placed them on the desk and stared at him. My mind was now set in motion and while my blood should have been normally boiling, right now it was frozen and almost did not pulse. In my hands was such revolting and disturbing information that would have set anyone out of their right mind; however I witnessed enough in my life to let it affect me in any significant way.
This man here was not worth of the title of man. He was not worth of being address as anything, aside disturbing and sick piece of trash. But it was going to end and he was going to pay. It did not affect me if looked from aside, yet, if I considered what could have happened to Anatoly…
“Quite the shit, huh?” Asked Marlon, staring intently at me and massaging his neck. “I don’t know why you asked me to investigate over that man, but Jesus, we just have a damn piece of shit there. It’s all so sick that I had problems in checking the crap he looks on the web.” He paused a shook his head. “No matter what and no matter how long you have been in this business; you’ll never get fucking used to such things. Oleg, why did you ask me to go after him?”
I gave him a firm and hard stare and he understood there was no room for questions. It was a private matter and I gave Mr. Denisov my word.
“It is classified. Thank you for the help.”
He shook his head and moved his chair back, going to stand up. Marlon walked around his office and cursed under his breath.
“Fucking sick bastard.” He hissed. “You know, I’m not married and I’m not a father, but to think that such … such piece of shit is a teacher, Christ, it makes me want to shoot him straight in his balls.”
I understood him and do not get me wrong. I felt the same, but in this moment my mind was concentrated only over the plan studied to make this lowlife pay. The papers were clear enough on the matter he was a sick being that enjoyed some sort of websites that should not even exist and that had been accused already two times for molesting under aged students, but apparently the charges had been withdrawn and that was rather suspicious. Two times and both times the charges had been withdrawn?
“We need more evidences, Marlon. This is not enough.”
“You need more, man? What the hell do you need more than that?”
“This is not enough to press complete charge and have him in front of a court. I do not want him out because of lack of evidences and I want him in prison, you know how it works here. If he goes for a trial, he must be charged as guilty. No way out of it.”
I took the papers in my hands and studied the contents once again. One case had been reported a year before what happened with Anatoly, a girl of twelve years of age, and another four years later, a boy fourteen years old. How was possible for such lowlife to work as teacher? Did they not thoughtfully check people’s background, CVs and criminal profile? How could that pass like nothing? Did it not raise suspicion? My eyes stared at those papers and remembering at what Anatoly said on that Sunday had my blood suddenly rush. Yes, they sure checked it, but he was not guilty and the accusations were not pressed.
Presumption of innocence: innocent until proven guilty. Yes, but it would change and very soon.
“Did you contact the persons listed here?” I asked him and he shook his head.
“I tried, but they won’t talk and of course I just didn’t walk there and ask them directly, but I got they won’t say a word about it. One in particular seemed scared shitless and no idea why was that, but had my doubts. Two similar cases and both withdrawn? This smells so bad to me and after cracking his damn computer? That man is fucking sick, I’m telling you.” He snorted with an angry expression and massaged his temples with his fingers. It was late evening and I could tell he was tired, because he had worked to a case for over a week without a break. But it was not the moment to relax and rest.
“Do you think they will talk if he will face a trial with clear evidences of guilt?” I inquired considering which way could be used to make them talk.
“I got the impression that one maybe might talk, but not sure the other one. I wonder what made them withdraw the charge.”
“He must have something to threaten them. This is the only solution.”
He thought about that a moment and then nodded.
“Yes, you are right. If you really want that piece of shit rotting in jail and get there what he deserves, well, you better be sure they’ll find him guilty.” He walked back and sat in front of me, smirking. “What do you need?”
“We need to break inside his place, have a look around, wire his phone and his computer. I am sure he has some hidden files in there or in his apartment. You hacked it from here last time, now I want it from his computer. The rest leave it to me.” And now it was me smirking. Mr. Denisov had been clear about the matter and I was not going to fail him. It was a mission that has been planned for over a month and now I had the means to accomplish it.
“This psycho must have touched the wrong person, am I right?” He asked me, but I said nothing and kept my face and expression completely void of any emotions.
But, yes.
This vermin had indeed dared to touch the wrong person and dared to utter such unforgivable words.
I drove back to the Denisov residence and parked my car in the usual spot left free for me in the garage; my eyes quickly glanced at the time and it was already almost midnight, since I had spent hours in Marlon’s office. Anatoly and Dmitri were not present during dinner because they both went out with a group of friends and I had the impression Dmitri sort of forced his twin brother into that; it was good he had those straightforward and easy-going attitudes, because they helped that immature boy in slowly opening up. I walked to my room and stopped in front of it; the door was ajar and my eyes looked around as normal reaction, checking the surrounding, since I had left it closed, but then I remembered and relaxed.
I pushed it open and my fingers stopped from switching the light on when I registered the figure of Anatoly resting in the middle of my bed. A sigh left my mouth and I closed the door behind me. Did he not have a room of his own? I took a couple of steps to the bed and realized he was sleeping; he must be probably tired, as, since his arm healed, he worked at my friend’s body shop, fixing bikes and occasionally cars. My feet stopped and while observing his figure, I slipped out of my blazer and then removed the tie, placing them on a chair.
His blonde hair had grown back and I shook my head at the sight of his hair style. Anatoly styled it again the same way of before, looking like a punk; it was shaved very short at the sides and the kept longer right in the middle, resembling an immature Mohican.
He had earrings as well as tattoos. Immature brat.
It was summer and the weather was warm, therefore he wore only a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, clearly revealing his inks. It wasn’t that I had anything against tattoos, as it would be completely hypocrite of me, but his were different. They represented the gang he used to be in and they would always mark him as a former gang member and society did not regard such person with an understanding eye. I sighed again and decided I would talk to him about the inks and see to convince him in modifying them; I smirked and chuckled. He was going to be convinced and end of the question, because I had no time to play games and those tattoos might bring future problems.
His gang. I had not forgotten about it and I still planned on taking care of all of them and two of them were already out of the game, but they would be released soon. I tried to track their leader down, but he had left New York for a while, probably to avoid some issues with the police, and at the moment I had no time to waste in going after him. He would come back without doubts and when the time came, he was going to pay. All of them were going to pay.
Anatoly stirred and rolled on his back and I scratched my short black hair, keeping my eyes on him. He needed to go back to his room, so I could sleep.
My eyes scanned his figure and noticed how his muscles were slowly shaping stronger and more defined, making him look bigger than months ago. Why he had to decide to come to my room right tonight? I was rather tired and had much information my mind was elaborating and it was not easy to see him completely defenseless resting on my bed, his legs slightly parted, his muscular stomach and abdominals showing from the top pulled back from his moving around, his face relaxed in what was probably a serene sleep.
I had to wake him up. Now, before…before nothing. He was Mr. Denisov son and soon he would be fifteen years younger than me. I reprimanded myself for still lingering in such attachment and locked everything away. It was a matter of what was right and what was wrong. What was allowed and what was forbidden.
So I moved to the bed and touched his shoulder, shaking it to wake him up, but he kept sleeping and I sighed another time, starting to lose my patience. Did he take my quarters for his playground? He had his own bedroom and I did not remember giving him permission to spend the night here.
“Anatoly.” I called with firm voice and at that he moved around and slowly opened his eyes, looking around with a confused expression.
“Oh fuck. I fell asleep here.” He muttered under his breath sitting up and passing a hand in his hair.
“Go to your room, Anatoly. I need to sleep.” I said curtly and staring with a severe glance, towering him from my height. He assessed me with an annoyed glare and then snorted.
“What? I fell asleep here, what’s the big deal? My idiotic brother has brought home his pet and sure as hell I don’t wish to be around those two cheesy fairies.” He rolled his grey-blue eyes and again stared at me, but did not move. My patience was getting thin. “Are you really wearing a damn shirt and I bet you had a damn tie and suit?”
“Anatoly, I do not have the time now to deal with your immature attitude. Move from my bed and go to your room. I have to wake up early in the morning.”
“I don’t want to go back.” He groaned and slumped back staring at the ceiling.
“Go to your room.” I said with final tone and he cursed and grumbled something in Russian, as the rare times we spoke, most of the times was in our mother language. “This house is big and I doubt you will hear anything. Now, go.”
“Don’t make me think about it, damn it. I cannot think about my brother and his annoying and I-blush-for-every-freaking-thing chipmunk..gross, just gross.”
I gave him another warning and hard stare and I smirked amused when he widened his eyes and looked away, shifting slightly uncomfortable under my commanding stares. He needed to mature and surpass this stage, as I could not understand what he really felt; being around his twin brother and his partner was not easy and I could comprehend it, but he needed to get over it. His emotions were still confused and it was normal, as he never gave them a chance to be sorted and confronted, but I wished he would clear them soon.
“Fine, I’m going and if I’ll have nightmares or hear them in the middle, be sure as hell that I’ll come over here and annoy you.”
I said nothing at his bratty provocation and of course it irritated him. He got up and while he went to reach the door I began to unbutton my shirt and then let it on the chair. I turned around because I didn’t hear the door opening and found Anatoly staring at me. I did not miss the way his eyes ranked my figure and the way he snapped them away annoyed; he was curious about my tattoos and I knew it, but now it was late.
“What is it?” I inquired and he said nothing, simply shook his head and turned around to open the door, but stopped.
“Oleg?” He didn’t turn to look directly at me and I wondered what he had to say.
“Yes?”
“Do you think it will… Nothing, it was nothing. I’ll go back and let you sleep, since old geezers like you sure need to sleep earlier.” Before he could leave the room, I walked to him and blocked his arm and he whipped his head glaring me with his usual arrogant and flaming eyes, typical of people with such short temper. “What do you want, I said nothing strange and I was just joking when I called you old geezer, you aren’t that old, right?”
“You are immature for your age and you know it.” He growled visibly annoyed at that and went to yank his arm free, but my grip did not falter and he snarled about to lose his temper.
“Let go, you sadistic bastard.”
“Sadistic?” I arched my brow and smirked in the way I knew would make him take a step back. I was not a sadistic person, for I would not be capable of such, but it amused me being able to keep this boy under some degree of control and knowing my presence had him quiet down, because he was too stubborn. “You know no sadism, believe me, Anatoly.”
“Then what the hell do you want?”
I let go of his arm and simply studied his eyes. They were not as blue and bright as his twin brother, Dmitri, for they held a trace of silvery grey, but they were not less shining; just of a different light.
“One day we will go and fix those tattoos of yours and I do not want to hear a word about it, understood?”
“And why should I listen to you?”
“It’s late, now leave and go back to your room.” He snorted and pulled his arm away.
“Whatever, I will do as I please and not as you please.”
He sure had attitudes, but before he left, I answered his unspoken questions, because I understood what he wanted to ask.
“Yes Anatoly, it will change. But you need to become more mature.” He froze there and adverted his gaze away, simply breathing heavily and looking deep in thoughts. He shook his head and took a step back, but stopped.
“When can we go race again?”
“We will see, now go to your room and let me sleep. It is late.”
Of course he rolled his eyes and left without saying a word. Once I closed the door behind me, I concentrated on what had to be done now, as that vermin had to pay for everything he had done. First of all he touched the wrong person and secondly he deserved to get a taste of his own sickness.
Trash like him had to rot in jail.
THREE WEEKS LATER: -WARNING: MATURE CONTENTS-
We had broken into that man’s place and wired computer and phone, but nothing much came out of his phone, while his computer was a useful source of data. I told Marlon his job at the moment was done and that I would need him only when everything was over; I could not be exposed, but the fact he was a private detective gave him the right to move around and keep his mouth closed, since his professional ethics entitled him to such right.
Over the first two weeks I studied that man’s habits and daily routine and that is why I knew when to break in a second time and search his place better; he had no security system or cameras and he lived in a normal residential area of the periphery of New York. The location of his two story house was perfect as the backyard was completely hidden and no neighbors had accessible view to it. I found a USB key, a SIM card and something else hidden in his studio and when I checked them it was clear why those two charges had been withdrawn.
The girl that at the time was twelve years old had written two innocent letters in where she said he was her favorite teacher because always “very funny” and because he helped her “when bullied”. It was easy to turn those letters against the young student, as occasionally you heard of students having crush for their teachers. This lowlife was beyond despicable, but I had already met pieces of trash like him years ago and I learnt how to deal with them.
I took those letters with me, because he had no other copies and it was clear the girl only looked up at him as teacher and nothing more than that. For the other student the deal was different and I could not delete what he had without making it look done on purpose. Marlon will have to talk to that person, as by now should be around eighteen years old, and see whether ready to press charge again or not. According to my friend he was the one that might be willing to talk if he was 100% sure the vermin would be sentenced.
He had nothing about Anatoly and that relieved me, because I would not allow him to get involved with anything. I would rather kill this vermin with my bare hands than have Anatoly drawn in.
A few days pass from my second break-in and now I was quietly waiting for him to come back from the gym, to give him a real welcome-home. I was dressed in black and my face was covered by a black military balaclava placed over a voice changer mask, to hide my tone of voice and unmistakable accent. The only visible parts were my eyes, but I used a camouflage tint to cover that small portion of skin. My hands wore black gloves. He would not be able to offer a proper description, saved for the size of my body, which looked bigger with this outfit. However it was not my concern, because once I was done with him, he would not dare to utter a syllabus about tonight.
I waited right beside the main entrance door and had cut the phone line and lights off. My lips imperceptibly rose in a sinister and evil smirk when I heard footsteps approaching the door; I allowed myself to a silent chuckle and then I set my mind and body ready and completely void of any emotion and feeling. The handle turned and the door opened, allowing him to step inside the house; he went to turn the light on after closing the door, obviously not noticing me hidden in the shadow. He cursed when the switch did not work and it was in that moment that I made myself visible.
The vermin froze a moment and I could tell even in the dark of the house his face had gone completely pale and his eyes wide in shock. How much I enjoyed the sight of it. But he had no time to react or do anything, as my hand grabbed the side of his neck with painful strength.
“What the f..hmff…” He went to scream, but my other hand stuffed his mouth with a cloth and he could no longer emit any decent audible sound aside some pathetic muffled hiss.
“Not a word.” I said, my voice sounding metallic and hard, completely unrecognizable, no accent of any sort to be detected.
I slammed his figure against the door and made sure it would hurt like hell and he sort of gasped, his face now a mask of terror, not understanding what was happening. My forearm compressed his throat and his eyes went wider. It was only the beginning. I twisted him around and kept him pressed there while I retrieved a black plastic handcuff from a pocket, to tie his wrists. After blocking his hands, I hit him in the side and had him kneel down. I grabbed the back of the collar of his shirt and dragged him forcefully to the living room, him twisting around and trying to scream and get free.
I tossed him facing the floor and kept him down pressing my knee on his back, while my hand kept his face down. I twisted his tied arms and he emitted a guttural sound that indicated how much that hurt; but hadn’t dislocated yet.
“You have a disgusting and sick hobby and the like of you should rot in jail for their entire sick life.”
At my words his face went on a complete panicked expression and, if before he was scared and confused, now he was drowning in pure terror and he had all the rights to do that.
His breathing went heavier and more erratic and he tried to move more around, but with a quick pull I dislocated one of his shoulders and he cried in his throat for the pain, now tears rolling down his face.
“Confess what you have done, because I have all the proofs here and if you confess, we will find a reasonable deal and avoid you what you know it will happen into prison to bastards like you.” He stopped agitating for the pain and froze, as he realized what I was talking about. “Or if you want, I could make you have a taste of it right now. Yes, good idea. Why not?” He tried to emit another scream, but nothing came out of his stuffed mouth aside muffled sounds.
I stood up and pulled the vermin up on his feet and violently dragged him to a chair, where I forced him sat and threaten to open his throat with a combat knife I pulled out from my trousers in case he dared to move; he was shaking in blind and insane terror and even if my face was blank of any expression and my blood cold and calm, deep inside I was really enjoying it.
The blade of the knife kept pressed on his throat while I walked around him to secure his arms at the back of the chair; I put the blade back only to place a cloth over his head. By now he was probably already wetting his pants, as I could smell something in the air and his body was shaking without doubt about to have him out of mind.
He had to feel it on his skin; he had to taste the terror and sickness of this in his mouth. He had to have nightmares in his numbered nights.
I walked to the kitchen where I found a broom stick and walked back to stand in front of him.
“You know what I have here? A nice stick.” I cracked in two with my leg and he his chest was not convulsively going up and down in short and panicked breaths. He shook his head and tried to utter something. “What is it? You would not like to try how it feels? Why? Afraid it would hurt? Oh believe me; it would really hurt, very much.” He shook more his hooded head and in the poorly lit room I could see a wet stain on his trousers.
My face stayed emotionless and I hit his shin with the broken stick. He jerked his head forward and muffled out a cry, so the stick hit the same spot another time and something probably broke.
I had changed part of the plan, so to make it look like a normal and vulgar burglary, since I had found a safe with a few values inside, which I had already removed and disposed of. The police would break inside and find the garbage tied and evidence of his shit right there and mark my words: he was going to confess after tonight.
“Now, nod if you understand me.” I smacked his stomach with the stick and dropped it on the floor. I circled the chair and fisted his hair through the cloth, forcing his head back, exposing his throat, where I pressed the knife once again. “You will confess, am I understood?”
He tried to frantically nod, but of course he could not move his head.
“I don’t understand you.” I taunted him, sliding the blade down and stopping it on his groin. “What did you say?” I demanded again, my voice only a hard and devious metallic sound.
He tried again to nod and this time I let his head go and he nodded hysterically in the grip of what I was sure to be impossible to describe terror.
“A wrong word and I will find you and kill you with my hands. Mind it: I can kill a person in a slow way, torturing you for weeks before deciding to put end to your miserable and sick life. Am I understood? This is not an empty threat. This is a promise and I will watch you. Understood?” He nodded again and I knew he was about to break down and he could not break down now. “Very good.”
I put the knife away and set his head free from the cloth. His eyes were wide and terrified, his nostrils trying to flare wider in search for more oxygen to probably control the attack of panic and dreadful fear he was experiencing.
“Now answer to a couple of questions and we will find a good deal for you, understood?” He nodded. “You have two charges for abuse withdrawn, but I know you blackmailed the victims and I saw what you have on his USB key.” I pulled it out and showed it to him and that was the last straw. He was done and framed. “No more excuses, right?” Yes, he knew he had no way out of this, his face said it all. “You know what they’ll do to you in prison, right?” He was about to turn insane. “Now, you will call the police and report a break-in and when they will find this, you will confess. Or else, I will come back and find you wherever you decide to hide.”
He tried to say something, but nothing came out aside a muffled feeble sound. His body was without doubt in pain, but that was nothing compared to his crimes; I wished to issue way more than this, but I had to be careful in not stepping some wrong lines and rise suspects. It was not strange to hear about thieves breaking in a house and beating the victims upon certain occasions, but if I were to unleash everything in me, this piece of shit would not make to the following hour. Thus I tied his ankles to the legs of the chair and hit his face a couple of times, a thin rivulet of blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.
It was over and it was time to pull back.
“I will release your arms and you will drag your body, tied to this chair, to that bag.” I meant the gym bag lying on the floor. “Where I’m sure your mobile is. But I’ll watch you: one wrong word and you are dead.” He said nothing, only tried to swallow down. So I freed his arms and kicked the chair down, having him hit the floor with his face. “Now, crawl there and call the cops.”
He pathetically dragged his tied body to where the bag stood and I followed him and he just did as instructed, his voice filled with real terror and panic. I went to kick him again, but he passed out; thus I checked his pulse and it was alright, as he was breathing and his heart beating. He had just blacked out probably due to physical pain and fear. I let him there and walked to his studio and plugged the USB key in his computer and left some other evidences around. Then left the house silent and careful like a shadow and I knew nothing would lead to me or to the Denisov.
The mission was successfully accomplished and no traces were left behind.
The police would find him tied on the chair, the safe open and his values gone, the door forced and the living room and entrance messed up resembling a fight. Too bad while looking for anything related to the break-in they would find something else and Marlon would make an anonymous phone call to accuse him, so to complete the frame of his confession. My friend would contact those two persons and see if they would testify or not; the rest was left to him, as my job was done and it had been flawlessly done. Once the police will find out about that piece of shit, they would forget about the break-in, as society could care less about such minor crimes, but the other one? That could not be tolerated and let go unpunished. The public was sensible over such delicate matters.
I didn’t drive back to the Denisov residence, but spent a couple of days at my friend’s place, to keep an eye on everything and make sure it would work according to the plan.
And it did worked perfectly, as two nights after what happened the TV news reported the case of a school teacher being involved with abuse over students and other “horrible facts”. “The city of New York was shocked”, that is what the reporter said in front of the camera. I watched the news carefully and nothing else came out.
Anatoly was safe and out of everything.
“One of them is willing to testify, but only privately and wants to avoid the media.” Marlon explained to me and I simply nodded.
“Thank you. You did an impeccable job.” I simply replied and he smiled.
I left his place and went back, having to meet Mr. Denisov to report about everything. After a quick report, as he didn’t need to hear all the details, he said nothing for a moment, simply placing a hand on my shoulder and then he breathed out, as if letting go of something, and smiled.
“Thank you, Oleg.” He said staring directly at my eyes. I kept my usual impassive expression and nodded.
“Sir, everything was dealt as planned and no mistakes were done.”
“Thank you, I am sincerely thankful for what you did. You will always have my gratitude, but you know that already. I am not sure what I would do without you.”
“It is my honor, sir.” I simply replied and it was the pure truth. He smiled more and I went to leave his office, but he stopped me.
“My wife and sons know nothing about this. I preferred to leave them out of everything.” I nodded. “Well, looks like I am saying something useless here.” I said nothing, but I knew his family didn’t know anything, as it was only the most logic solution.
“Sir.”
I inclined my head as a greeting and left the studio, walking to my room, but I heard the TV in the living room and it was set on a news channel, reporting again what happened nights ago. Anatoly was watching the TV and had his back to me, sitting straight and his shoulders tense, so I stopped at the door frame and simply stared at his figure.
He probably felt my presence or so, because he turned his head and looked at me with a confused expression, his mouth tight in a thin and tense line. He said nothing and so did I. Then I went to leave, but he shot up from the sofa and almost ran toward where I was, grabbing my arm to stop me. I gave him a hard stare, but he did not let go.
“You...” He stared at me and swallowed down.
ANATOLY POV
When I heard the news I felt almost sick and my heart for a moment stopped beating, as I was deadly afraid something would come out of that shit. Not that I cared what people might say or so, but I didn’t want to involve my family in more fucked up mess and I sure didn’t want to get involved in that; but then I relaxed when it was clear nothing would come out, as that fucking lurid asshole didn’t even remember or know my name. After hearing again the news, I realized what had happened and I couldn’t almost believe it. It was Oleg and I damn knew it.
But why? Why he had to go out of his way to such extent?
I gripped his arm stronger and planted my eyes on his impassive and cold stare and damn it, it annoyed me so much to never see the smallest emotion there.
“You..” I wanted to ask, but did I really need to ask it? I knew it was him. But why? “Why..?”
The impassive bastard obviously said nothing and simply glared at me with another hard and severe look, but the hell with that. I wanted to know.
“Why?” He went to walk away, but I stopped him and it was clear I was playing with fire, but I could care less in this moment. I had to know. “Why? Tell me why.”
“Anatoly..” He began to say, but I cut him off.
“The fuck with that, I asked you why and I fucking want to know, so you better tell me, you hear me?” Something flashed in his emotionless and cold eyes and I found myself pressed against the wall. I knew I had overstepped a limit, but now I didn’t give a damn about it. “I want to know and I have all the damn right to know, Oleg.”
He kept silent and I gulped feeling him that close. This man was affecting me too much and messed with my mind in a way that wasn’t funny at all. Why he had to go to such extent? Was it because of my father, because of his duties, or…?
“Why was that? Because of your damn duties?”
He let go of me and took a step back.
“Yiest. Duties, Anatoly.”
Those words had my blood rush in burning anger and annoyance, as I hated to be always referred as duties; it fucking irritated me so much and it pissed me off to get irritated over it. But this bastard here was just so..damn it. I shoved him away and cursed. Why he had to be always such impassive and asshole bastard?
“Fuck you and your fucking duties.” I spat and marched away, my body shivering in anger and irritation, my blood pulsing faster.
Right, he could go fuck himself and his damn duties.
Author's chit-chat:
So, what are your impressions and thoughts? Were you expecting anything like that? Something different? I tried to make it all planned in the best way. I realize for a prologue it might be long, but well, that's how it came out and I think it has what was needed.
I realize I like to place quotes in this story, as they fit it just fine.
Next chapter will be chapter 1 and it will skip ahead of a few months and the story will effectively begin. But somehow it has already begun, right? Updating soon!
Until next time xox