The Start

"Cause you stop my heart. I can't focus on anything."—Melanie Fiona.

Opening Theme Song: 'You Stop My Heart' by Melanie Fiona.

••

Blaze

"I am almost there, Blaze."

A breathless whisper drags me from my idle gazing at the ceiling as Melissa Jones rotates her hips against my groin, her thick black hair perched onto one side of her neck.

The golden sun rays pouring through the cream curtains glistens on her wet skin as she bites her plump lips in satisfaction. Shooting me a seductive smile that is immediately replaced with a face of pleasure, she lowers her lips to my neckline, to which I almost grimace. "I am so close."

I roll my eyes. Just cum already, good lord. I am starving and the campus cafeteria normally runs out of burgers at approximately one in the afternoon. This is taking up all my damn time.

She's shivering, moaning, riding her way to bliss, and I glance at my watch impatiently while she ventures wet, cringy kisses along my neck. Since her eyes are now closed, she has no idea that my groans are as fake as her rear.

12:55!

I hiss audibly and she lifts her head. Her movements are faster now and if she keeps this up, no doubt she will be fracturing my ribcage.

"Did you just suck your teeth, baby?"

I force a smile. "Nope, that was a moan."

She beams. "Mm, really?" She throws her head back, circling her waists like the apparent professional she is. At this point, I am getting quite bored and my stomach is rumbling. My eyes dip to my watch again.

I:00pm!

Na-ah.

"I got to run," I say flatly, gripping her naked thighs and throwing her off me. She falls backward off the bed with a yelp and I open my eyes wide, hiding a laugh.

Shit.

Her face scrunches up in confusion and she rubs the back of her head while climbing back onto the bed. She watches me get up with a crinkled nose. "Where are you going, Blaze?"

"The cafeteria," I reply blankly as I push a leg into my jeans, balancing on one leg like a professional acrobat. "I am hungry."

She gapes.

"Want something?" I ask, but not caring for a reply as I pull my arms through the sleeves of my white T-shirt, dragging it over my head. I frown when I see her thick lipstick stain on my sleeve and I tug at the hem, scrutinizing the red mark. "Damnit..."

She narrows her eyes at me while gnawing on her lip disapprovingly. "I can't believe that we were just having sex and you had food on your mind the entire time. Gosh, the rumors are true. You're an asshole."

I roll up the sleeve to hide the mark while giving her a pink lopsided smirk. "Well then, I'll see you around, yeah?"

I begin to move toward the door as she frowns. "That's all you have to say?"

I turn to look at her, walking backward as I wave my hands around, gesticulating. "All of this. Too much estrogen, I can't handle the emotional breakdown of women. Prefer not to stay in here a moment longer for it to happen."

"You're a dick."

"Better to be a dick than a pussy."

"Ugh!"

I chuckle as I turn toward the door, hearing the sheet ruffles as she gets down, desperately mincing behind me. She sticks her head out the door, her naked body hiding behind the white paint-chipped walls. "Can we do this again?"

"Mm. Maybe." I barely glance over my shoulders and she scowls, her eyes opening wide when she spots her boyfriend coming up the hall.

I laugh, looking back at her but the door is already slamming close as she quickly returns inside. Damn, I should have stayed in there a minute longer.

Her boyfriend—Leo (no, definitely not Leonardo DiCaprio)—is a nerdy-looking guy with receding hairline and a weird stubble on his chin that more looks premature than manly. I cannot seem to understand why he keeps wearing these fake-ass loafers with white and grey diamond socks. He looks like a background extra in a 90's film; the type of irrelevant cast members whose only duty is to casually cross the street, so that the scene appears busy.

The reason I just slept with his girlfriend isn't solely because she kept secretly eyeing me since the first year but mainly because her boyfriend hates me for reasons that apparently only he knows, and perhaps one of them is the fact that I have all the girls here in the palm of my hands, whilst he has to spend his entire allowance on roses and bouquets, holding Prada bags and Gucci shoes just to get laid. I won't apologize for having a deceptively sweet tongue and it's certainly not my fault that he's unaware that this is the 21st century.

"Hello, Leo." I swing him a triumphant smirk and he narrows his eyes at the ominous greeting as I stroll on past him. I hum a tune under my breath as I continue my journey down the hall, pleased with the fact that I am now aware of the type of undergarments his girlfriend wears. What better revenge is there?

Admittedly, I can be quite vindictive and massively manipulative most of the time—the remnant moments are when I want something from someone and it requires me to be on my best behavior to acquire that which is sought after.

I've grown up having my way the majority of the time that if I don't get it, I'll go to extensive measures to change that fact. Extensive can range from mild, to cunning, to sinister, to dangerous.

I am obsessed with control and the need to possess anything I lay my eyes on. If I don't attain it—and this happens once out of a hundred—then Lucifer breaks free from the feeble cages within me. I am fucking twisted. I am aware of that.

Leo stops and turns his head to watch me curiously, and feeling his beady brown orbs on me, a smirk creeps its way onto my lips.

He's sure looking for trouble, isn't he? I'll give it to him.

I wave a hand in the air. "By the way, tell your girlfriend thanks for the sex!"

Biting back a smirk, I can only imagine how electrocuted he looks right now. He begins to yell a stretch of profanities in a rage, but I am laughing too hard to care. I'd sleep with his girl every day if this is the amusing reaction I would receive.

"You asshole, you little fucker, you won't get away with this! You will pay for touching my girl, you psychotic son of a bitch!"

I laugh hard as I swing around, pointing to my throat. "You'll damage your windpipe. Calm down."

He's fuming and I can almost see little red smokes coming out of his ears. The sight is humorous and entertaining as I shake my head and turn around, disappearing around the hall.