Velour

It was supposed to be just another school day, though nothing about it felt normal to me. My driver pulled the car up in front of the tall gates of my new high school, and I sat there for a moment, staring at the building. My first day. New faces. New teachers. New rules. And worst of all-the exhausting pressure of making friends. I hated that part.

I stepped into the classroom with my bag slung over my shoulder, my earpieces tucked in, a faint song playing just loud enough to drown out the unfamiliar chatter. I walked straight to an empty seat by the window and sat down, keeping my head low.

And then... I felt it.

That prickling sensation-like someone's eyes were glued to me.

I turned my head slightly, and there he was.

A young man, seated two rows back, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that was almost unsettling. He didn't even pretend to look away when our eyes met. His stare was steady, unblinking, and impossible to ignore. My breath caught, and I quickly turned back to face the front.

Curiosity got the better of me, though. After a few seconds, I glanced again.

Still looking.

Still him.

The teacher walked in and called for everyone's attention, and we went through the usual introductions. That's when I caught his name-Lucas. Though when he said it, he shortened it to Luc.

One girl, cheerful and talkative, seemed to take a liking to me right away. She walked me to the car after school and waved goodbye.

Home was as quiet and cold as always. My mother barely looked up when I walked in. We didn't speak. We hardly ever did. I went upstairs to my room-a place that felt like my own small world. There was a little private parlour attached, so I never had to go downstairs unless I wanted to.

I changed into an oversized shirt and a pair of bum shorts, flopped onto the sofa with a plate of cookies, and put on a movie. But my mind kept drifting back to him. That stare. That face.

"God, he's so hot," I muttered to myself, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.

The next day at school, I took my seat. And there he was again-right behind me. My book slipped from my desk, and when I bent to pick it up, I rose to find him leaning slightly forward, his face startlingly close to mine.

I gasped softly. "Oh... um, hi," I said, my voice shaky but curious.

His eyes-dark, magnetic-didn't waver. "Are you scared?" His voice was deep and unhurried, like he already knew the answer.

I shook my head quickly. "No, I just... didn't expect you to be this close."

The corner of his mouth lifted, almost a smirk. "You keep looking back at me."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. "You keep staring first."

He chuckled, low and quiet. "Fair enough. I like watching you. You're... different."

My breath hitched. "Different how?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he reached for my hand, his fingers brushing mine in a slow, deliberate way. "Sera, right?"

I nodded, my pulse skipping. "Yeah."

"Mind skipping this class?" he asked, his voice softer now-but with a strange edge to it.

I hesitated. "I-uh-should probably stay-"

"Come with me," he said, not exactly a request. His thumb traced over my knuckles in a way that made my thoughts scatter.

"I don't even know you," I managed to say.

"Then maybe you should," he replied smoothly, standing halfway and tugging gently on my hand.

The air between us was tense, electric. Part of me wanted to pull away, but another part-one I couldn't understand-wanted to follow.

Before I could decide, he was already leading me toward the door.

We slipped out of the classroom, his hand still on mine, his pace steady but unhurried. The noise of the hallway faded as we moved farther away from the main building.

I didn't know where he was taking me, but every step felt like stepping deeper into something I couldn't name-something that might change everything.

As we reached his home, he gestured politely.

"Please, sit on the couch," he said with a small smile.

I lowered myself onto the soft seat, feeling a bit uncomfortable. His home was neat and calm-just like him. A faint scent of vanilla drifted in the air.

He returned from the kitchen with two glasses of iced coffee.

"Here," he offered.

I took a sip. The cold, creamy taste spread across my tongue-it was good, surprisingly so.

"Are you alone?" I asked, glancing around.

"Mmh." He nodded, moving closer to me.

He reached out, brushing my hair gently backward. It felt strange-no one had ever touched me like that before. And to my surprise... I didn't stop him. What's wrong with me?

"You're... beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and warm. I could feel his breath against my face.

His hand slid slowly down, then under the hem of my skirt. My eyes stayed locked on his, frozen in some mix of shock and confusion.

"I-no, don't..." I managed to say, my voice trembling.

But his fingers slipped past the waistband of my pants. My breath caught.

"Why are you shaking?" he whispered, eyes searching mine.

"I don't know..." I admitted, barely above a whisper. "This feels... wrong."

He tilted his head, studying me. "Then tell me to stop."

My heart pounded. I could feel every second stretching between us.

He moved his hand deeper, his other hand resting firmly on my neck. Slowly, his lips touched mine.

I didn't even know how to kiss-but somehow, I liked it.

"No..." I moaned softly against his mouth.

He didn't stop. Instead, he kissed me harder, his lips pressing with more insistence. A strange mix of warmth and electricity rushed through me. I liked it... but part of me wanted to pull away.

Then, suddenly, he released me. His hand slipped out from my panties-damp, leaving my skin tingling.

I sat there, catching my breath, my heart still racing.

I sat there, shocked, trying to process what had just happened.

“Oh my God… I— I’m really sorry. I have to go. God, I… I just have to go,” I stammered, fumbling to grab my bag. My hands shook. I didn’t even know what I was doing, only that I needed to leave.

He stared at me with a strange, unreadable gaze. Then, before I could move, he pulled me closer. His breath brushed my ear as he whispered, “Relax, sweetheart. I can make you feel even better… more pleased.”

My chest tightened. I pulled away sharply. “I’m going,” I said, my voice firmer this time as I hurried toward the door.

But before I could escape, his hand closed tightly around mine. In one swift motion, he grabbed his keys, dragged me outside, and led me to his car.

He pushed me gently but firmly into the front seat, shut the door, and circled to the driver’s side. My heart pounded as the engine roared to life.

Without a word, he began driving.