Warning. This story contains sexual content and strong language.
... I'm back!
I have finally buckled down and overcome my writer's block! It mainly sprouted from ending Answer Me This. I did not think I could match its quality but after re-reading it, I definitely can do better!
So welcome to The Romantics - passionate about life and its adventure.
There are going to be sexual themes and scenes in this story. I will do my best to keep it sophisticated.
Hope you enjoy!
Y/N = Your name (also, I am questioning this whole name and first person business. I feel odd giving you, the reader, a personality that may be entirely different from yourself in a story. On the flip side, I am unsure if you would appreciate a character made in your place. Maybe you do prefer being the character? Please message or comment your opinion!)
- Caroline
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"You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it."
- Benjamin Mee
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"We see this theme recurring in all the texts we've studied thus far. We've also seen the opposing perspectives. Some texts highlighted the success that blossoms from desire and others have accentuated the negative effects of an excess or inappropriate desire."
Mr. Keating was soothing to listen to but managed to keep your brain on its figurative feet while he lectured.
"Desire is such an umbrella term. What comes to your mind when you hear the word ladies and gents? Come on, don't shy away- ah, Kennedy?"
A slim, pale hand fell back to its owner's desk softly. "A desire for power," she answered assuredly.
Keating grunted with an agreement. "Yes, economic desire. Neil?"
"Social. Fitting in, safety and whatnot."
"Absolutely. You've heard that in Biology, yes? I sure hope you guys are just shy and not lying to me," Keating scorned us playfully. A few more students confidently gave their responses seemingly calmed by the wide variety of possible answers. Generalized answers emerged from several students dispersed around the class. Still, it was an unexpected amount of courage from a class one week into Keating's style of teaching.
Keating was wringing out the last of our ideas when another boy leaning back triumphantly in his chair threw in an idea almost out of instinct.
"Sexual, sir."
A few chuckled, others rolled their eyes at the boy's boastful grin. I tried my best to glance at him nonchalantly. He wasn't wrong. Sexual desire can be awfully powerful. Our classroom composed of hormonal teenagers knew this feeling well.
Suddenly, his eyes cast in my direction. This boy had an enthralling side glare. His chestnut-brown hair matched his intense eyes. A devious smirk remained carved on his face. His eyebrows hung lower than ours, giving him a dominant expression that lured me to hold my stare. While the rest of the class wore their complete uniforms, he had taken off the jacket and remained in a white dress shirt and black tie with mahogany stripes. It fit him favorably.
I hadn't realized Keating continued his lecture so I regained most of my focus and directed it to Keating's diagram on the board.
However, I could not help it when my eyes drifted back to the boy sitting two rows from me. My eyesight slithered along the backs of the students tracing Keating's chart into their books all the way to this boy who watched the chalkboard amused. His eyes flickered along with the motion of Keating's hand. He was gorgeous.
Gale, a jock who sincerely fit the stereotype, lugged himself out of the classroom after reminding Keating of his appointment. He sat at the very back and proceeded through the aisle past the boy.
Immediately after Gale passed, I failed to notice the boy had affixed his eyes on mine.
Embarrassed, I surrendered my eyes to my notebook and pretended Keating's words even slightly resonated with me. He, however, did not release his stare. It was only when the bell rang that he gathered his things, returning his eyes to his possessions.
I acted as if I had forgotten something to give him time to exit the room before me. To my dismay, he instead remained, slowly gathering his papers. Piercing eyes once again locked onto me.
Before I knew it, he had made his way over to me.
"Dalton. Charlie," his keen, suave voice rolled into my attentive ears.
"Y/N," I nervously replied offering my hand as he held out his. He grasped it kindly and settled a small kiss on the back. His eyes were even more enticing up close.
"Lovely to meet you."
"Likewise," I added, my voice benevolent and trying to hide my anxiousness.
He chuckled contently. Just like that, Charlie was already headed out. Relieved, I sighed to let out my adrenaline.
The next two weeks of classes were riddled with experiences like these. Every time I made innocent eye contact with Charlie, he reciprocated with a stare. He looked up at me with his head tilted down slightly. A few times he was biting the tip of his pen when he glanced over. I lost composure whenever I presented and noticed he had licked his lips. He never failed to excite me with his body language.
On a Friday during Keating's class, the last of the day, we were stating our opinions on the overarching theme of the text we studied: desire.
Academic students raised their hands to make bold opinions that challenged each other. Debates opened and resolved repeatedly. Class was typical disregarding the flirtatious acts of Charlie across the room until he raised his hand to speak.
"Desire is inevitable as long as the objective exists. But... there are desires that can benefit or hurt the individual. There are desires that can lead to harm, destruction, suffering for others. Then there are desires that can liberate, that can release tension. But even these desires can cause a human to perform some destructive acts to gain it. I say desire is potent. Over time, one will give up or just... do whatever it takes."
He spoke the final sentence with strong sincerity. Seconds later, my eyes were yearning to meet his. As promptly as mine reached his figure, his eyes instantly connected with me. He must have been expecting my uncontrollable interest to present itself quickly. Charlie tapped his pen on his notebook to the tempo of my heart. A smirk grew on his encouraging face.
~
After dinner, I fled to the study hall to hopelessly attempt to comprehend the mathematics unit. After all, the unit final was approaching quicker than I was prepared for. To my delight, a long walnut table was free and secluded at the far end of the hall. I hastily situated myself at it and got down to work. Maybe thirty minutes passed before a familiar sight sauntered through the doors at the opposite side of the room.
Charlie. He was accompanied by faces I could finally put names to; Neil Perry, Todd Anderson, Gerard Pitts, Knox Overstreet, and Steven Meeks.
I continued to read through the dreadful textbook to no avail. If I couldn't concentrate before, there was no way I could with Charlie Dalton in the same room without the confines of classroom etiquette holding any of his comments or actions from manifesting.
Straining my peripheral vision, I could make out his form taking the crimson chair against the wall as his group seated themselves around the table. Overwhelming fascination steered my eyes off the pages of my textbook and over to his dauntless eyes scanning the papers spread before him by Meeks.
Unfortunately, my concentration never returned to my textbook. Charlie wore a plain white shirt with his reading glasses placed in his hair. The issue was the champagne lamp beside him adorning his figure with warm yellow light. I could see his cheek flex and soften with his hearty laughs, his bicep flex whenever he reached for the pencil tucked behind his ear, and the divots and prominences of his loose shirt. There was no doubt that Charlie was unmistakably handsome. It made me vulnerable to his undeniable charms and the mix produced a strong sense of lust. Physical attraction was an understatement for the feelings that surged through me.
Shit. He saw me.
I bit my lip in trepidation. What if he approaches me? I don't trust my own ability to speak to him. Shit shit shit. Why did he have to look so irresistible?
Footsteps approached me calmly as I grew anxious. Charlie slumped down on the other side of the table leaning forward a touch.
"By any chance could you help me out with a question?"
I desperately acted as if I was never aware of his presence. Looking up into his eyes did become a mistake, however, as I faced his dangerous gaze.
"Sure..." I instinctively replied. Being this close meant I could smell him. It was not just the cologne, I was sure it was pheromones too, coaxing me to flirt, to submit.
"I was wondering... if your little glances and flushed cheeks are supposed to intimidate me or... galvanize me," Charlie revealed in a sultry voice.
I clasped the textbook firmly in keenness. Now was an opportunity to flirt... hard. Should I? I barely know him aside from witty and sarcastic remarks that I've only overheard. We have barely talked. The sexual desire was inevitable though...
"That's a question I'm sure you can figure out the answer for, Charles."
He chuckled heavily. "How could I go about finding the answer, Y/N?"
I attempted to glare back at him with compelling eyes, looking up with my head tilted down. It seemed to work because Charlie inhaled swiftly. "I'm sure there's something." Immediate regret was washed away with adrenaline and sweet, sweet ardor.
Charlie shifted and broke the stare to glance around the room. Conversations were blooming loud enough that his valiant voice was hidden beneath. Still, he reduced to a whisper and reconnected his powerful eyes to mine.
"I could drive you crazy, Y/N."
A shiver scattered through my nerves all the way to my fingertips. I had never flirted with sexual intent before; sex had always just happened with the moment for me.
"I could make you really... really... want me."
My breath hitched and my legs tensed together. The rational side of my consciousness at this moment was screaming no for all the right reasons, but that just inflated my desire. I felt so wrong. So unreasonable. So... lustful.
I have gathered that Charlie is a vigorous guy. It is immensely intimidating; once he sets his sights on something, he will persevere. I have witnessed him carry his soccer team to a victory, work incessantly on a sonnet for Keating, and perform an exceedingly difficult saxophone solo - all tasks that require intense perseverance - and it made me restless in my seat to think I could be his desire and control how much he has to work to get me where he wants me.
"Is that what you want? My submission?" I whispered back, careful to mask my voice under the rest of the group's conversations.
"Wow, already thinking like that, are you?" he remarked. His sly grin teased me.
"You're the one making a move, am I not supposed to play my cards?"
Charlie rebounded off my statement like he could not withstand any more tension. He crossed his arms, then brushed his hair back, then crossed them again. He looked at me dangerously. "I wanna know what you want to do." His tongue caressed his bottom lip then retreated to his mouth, biting his lip briefly as he waited.
A silence evolved and carried for long seconds. I didn't know what I wanted exactly. Charlie has made it quite clear that he intends to please me if I dare say yes. However, I keep reflecting on the simple, standout issue; I don't know him well!
Suddenly, he sprung up from the seat and returned to his study group. A wave of frustration - sexual frustration - radiated through me keeping my body tense and my mind agitated. Trying to concoct a witty response with Charlie Dalton inches away, practically offering sex, was an arduous task.
A drawn-out hour finally passed and students were dragging themselves to their dorms. Charlie's group remained and he seemed frustrated with more than just calculus. Finally, his friends began to pack up their belongings. Charlie glided back over carrying a note of paper in his hand. My tired body still managed to crank out adrenaline that may keep me awake for a while longer.
He placed it on the table and pushed it my way with his index and middle finger. Eyes flashed on mine, winking, before he glided away once more.
Opening the note was rousing. Reading the note was exhilarating.
Y/N,
Give me the time and place.
Gripping my pen with a trembling hand, I wrote my response with certainty, clarity, and excitement.
Y/N,
Give me the time and place.
11:00. Number 256.
I gave myself two hours to either confirm this or change my mind entirely. I figured that was more than enough time but I had to be absolutely sure. Waiting a couple more weeks to get to know him crossed my mind, but my fervent soul demanded I take advantage of Welton's Student Welcoming Event in which my next door neighbours would be gone from their dorms for at least a couple hours.
I had gathered all my things, almost prepared to leave when Charlie began to exit the hall. I assumed he didn't want his group of friends to know he was propositioning sex with an acquaintance so he left with them instead of attempting to come over to me one more time.
Understanding what I had and desired to do, I followed quickly behind them. Charlie was holding the door for the last person, Meeks, so I made sure he wasn't looking behind him when I slipped the note into Charlie's warm hand walking out of the door.
The last sight I saw before turning the corner was Charlie's simple nod of confirmation accompanied by that challenging, encouraging, beckoning grin.
~
Voila!
Hope that was sufficient enough after such a long break! I am realizing now that this is going to be a looooong story.
I think I'll break up the chapters into more focused scenes instead of 2500+ words every time.
That's all!
Caroline
P.s. Are you ready for my first ever sex scene? LOL I'm nervous to publish it and I'll most likely change the rating
on this story to Mature but I am ready to jam pack it with seductionnnnnn