Xavier's Confession

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6. I just wanted to corrupt her so bad


The same evening, me and my guys left Chase’s recording studio around seven. We were working together on a new song with Chase. Before heading out for our own streets, we decided to check out some movies in the video store. Hunt was not with us though. His parents invited someone over for dinner so he was required to stay home. Matt wasn’t feeling so well so he chose to wait for me in the parking lot. Scott and I went.

We headed straight for Action. We were passing through Romantic-Comedy section when it happened. A she creature bumped right into me. I heard her squeak a whimper and put up her hands in defense mode. Since I was never the kind of guy who would touch just any girl, my hands automatically went up too.

“Whoa!” I said.

And then there she was again. My Mongrel. I smirked.

But the moment her eyes met mine, she froze on the spot with a kind of expression that was quite weird, to tell you the truth. I’d never seen her look at me that way. I stared back and waited for her to say something but she stayed mum as though she suddenly became mute.

“Enjoying feeling me?” I said, aware of her hands pressed against my chest.

I grabbed both her elbows so that the contact wouldn’t break and looked deeper into her eyes, demanding attention and there goes my Mongrel getting that adorable crimson on her cheeks.

When I felt her palms fist over on my chest, crumpling my T-shirt, that was when I started to lose my composure. Feeling her strength on my skin turned me on like a mockery to my confidence. My senses felt like they were on fire.

She kept staring back and damned the way she was looking at me was fucking challenging me and my goddamned confidence.

I underestimated her. The effect she has on me is surprising.

My mind and thoughts started reeling towards the wrong direction. I had to mentally discipline myself with some insults. But the way her big eyes were staring up at me meekly took me over like some enchantment. And she hadn’t even spoken a word yet.

“You’re blushing,” I said and as though I was bewitched, my thumb automatically went over and touched her left cheek.

Her eyelids fluttered astonishingly in response and she quickly wriggled out of my hold. My mind at once surfed back to earth.

Fantastic, Arquette.

I took a step back and I didn’t know what to do after that. My focus was nervously straying all over the place. I couldn’t look at her. I was actually embarrassed . . . Having lost my composure and acted like a total hormonal-idiot.

Sensing somebody else’s presence around us, I looked towards my right and there stood Scott with a funny expression on his face. I had completely forgotten he was with me. And whistling like the asshole he was, he left us with a sly look on his face.

I looked back at Alana and cleared my throat.

“You took advantage of me,” I said.

I had to fix the situation and that was my smartest idea; teasing her again.

“What?” She questioned back in disbelief.

“Your hands just felt the whole span of my chest.”

She made a face and then yelled, “It was an accident!”

That took me back for a while. I wasn’t expecting that. She actually admitted it and I started laughing like a maniac. I laughed so hard, tears pooled in my eyes and I had to bang the shelf.

Where the hell did all her comebacks go?

“Whoo!” I dried my eyes and relieved myself of the hilarity. But I was still chuckling. “An accident indeed, darling. I think I should be prepared for more,” I said in between chuckles.

With a glare but without another word, she spun on her heels and stomped off towards the direction where she was coming from.

I followed, “Come on, Sexy. Admit it. I know you want me.”

She scoffed without looking back, “You’re the last person on earth I’ll ever fall for, moron.”

Ouch.

I went few strides ahead and stopped in front of her. She gasped a little as she stopped too, almost crashing into me again. I started closing into her, slowly. She moved back too, same pace. The next second, I clutched her fragile shoulders and gently pushed her against the shelf on the side.

No effort there, standing next to me of 6.4 ft, she seemed really small. I might be exactly one foot taller than her. And to be honest, it was actually cute as fuck that she was short. Just the perfect size for me to hug and cuddle up with.

I let go of her shoulders and clutched the shelf, blocking her exits on both sides and keeping her in between my arms.

So here goes.

“Are you sure you can resist this? This dude with this body even after you’re as crazy to the point of harassing him?” I narrowed my eyes at her, ignoring my signature smirk for a while.

Now that I was standing in front of her in full display of my body, my torso, my pride, she couldn’t help but glance down a bit. I know my body. I know how I look but I never used it to take any advantage. But with Mongrel, it was an entirely different story. She was like flipping me inside out every time she was around me. I couldn’t even think straight. It was like I was always high or under some spell.

And since she was a totally different story, I wanted to use every strategy to make her like me. I just wanted to corrupt her so bad because I was so. Fucking. Crazy. About her.

Looking back at me, she gulped, folded her arms defiantly over her chest, pulling back her attitude, and said, “Do not forget what I called you the first time we met at the graveyard. You’re still as ugly as that.”

Burn.

My plan failed terribly yet I teased more, “You know it’s cute when you deny the undeniable. How many times do I have to tell you that there’s no need to hide. You know I’m ready to date you.”

“Count me out of your long list of bimbos. I have no interest in becoming one of them,” she shot back and that shut me up.

Did she really think I was only thinking of just hooking up with her?

I was aware of the immediate change on my expression and tone of voice as I said, “I don’t think you’re a bimbo.”

She stared back at me like she was staring at a hungry lion. I knew that look. I occasionally get into street fights and most fighters look at me exactly that way. And I didn’t want the same from her. I didn’t want her to be afraid of me. If anything, I wanted her to like me back.

So I lightened up, “Besides I don’t do bimbos.”

“O . . . okay,” she stuttered.

I smiled back at her. A little mischievously, if I may add.

She breathed and replied, “That’s a wonderful information, thanks. But you should know that it’s not in my gene to fall for a jerkwad like you.”

Standing ovation, baby.

I nodded like I was understanding her statement very well, like I was taking it to heart and then smirked, “Right.”

I started to enclose the proximity between us even closer, fanning my breath on her face. I said with a smirk, “You should also know that it’s not in my gene to behave like a chivalric gentleman around sexy ladies.”

And so with special thanks to my guts, I leaned my face closer down to hers, really close, until my forehead came in contact with hers. The sweet feminine scent caught my sense and I inhaled deeply, as much as my lungs could take in. She smelt of lavender and lilac and God, was it good. I was tempted to bury my face into her hair to get more of the drugging scent.

But her hands were already on my chest again, trying to push me back but failing miserably. I could tell she was having a hard time too, struggling to keep up with my gaze fixed immovably into her eyes and my fucked up domineering presence.

Our lips were almost touching and when the tip of my nose touched the skin of her cheek, I felt her eyes instantly squeezed shut.

“Stay away,” she said.

Stay away.

That was what she told me; so sure of it. It was pretty depressing to hear that.

I pulled back slightly, not too much that she would feel the difference, to look at her face. Her eyes were squeezed shut like a kid in front of a TV that was playing horror movie or like a child who was scared of all the ghosts under her bed, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself.

She’s the funniest and the most beautiful girl ever.

Her hands that were crumbling my T-shirt over my chest in tight fists became tighter. I, then, shifted my gaze from her eyes to the lips. I clenched my teeth together tightly to suppress the tempting urge to kiss her and swallowed my spit instead. She wouldn’t understand how much of willpower it was costing me to leave her lips untouched.

Not yet. Not now. Hopefully someday.

Awe, Alana, what is it about you that’s making me this way?

Probably, she was cursing herself for not being able to move out. But how little does she know that this was new to me too and I was as helpless as she was.

“Hey Xavi, are you . . .”

Scott stopped short at the end of the passageway, holding up two cassettes in his hands and, at first, looking like he’d found his mother eating his hash Brownies, and then the next moment, he goddamn smirked. Instantly, I dropped my arms that were keeping Alana caged within. Her eyes were also wide open now and her face, blushing red.

“Oh,” Scott murmured and and disappeared.

Before I had time to look at Alana again, she’d shoved me back and made a run for her life. I smiled.

Can you get any more adorable, Mongrel?

I went over to Scott after that. I found him at the Action area, rummaging through the shelves. I went and stood beside him.

“Did you kiss her?” Scott asked curiously.

I met his eyes. “No, dude.”

“Why not?”

I rolled my eyes and joined him in rummaging through the shelves. Then I was lost in thoughts. Scott called me.

“Dude, what are you thinking?”

I exhaled and asked him, “Scott, do you think Alana’s afraid of me?”

I wasn’t really expecting an answer. I just needed to ask someone. It relieved my mind.

He turned to me, resting an elbow on the edge of
the shelf. He sighed and responded, “Bro, the human mind is as intricate and as confusing as the fibres of grass. It’s so hard to comprehend. You don’t know where they go or how they go. So how am I supposed to know what sort of shitload runs in her mind when I can’t even decide which movie I wanna take home tonight!”

“Standard answer, bro,” I nodded and clapped my hands over his face in sarcasm.

“You’re welcome,” he slapped my left shoulder.

Then we were quiet again. He started whistling whilst looking through the shelf. I, on the other hand, absentmindedly stared down at the cover of White House Down lying on the top shelf, thinking. I think a lot. It’s my nature.

After five minutes, Scott turned to me, quirking an eyebrow, “So you really didn’t kiss her.”

I shook my head, “Nope.” Not looking at him.

“Wanna bet?”

With a deep frown, I turned to meet his eyes. They glinted mischievously. I glared at him.

What the fuck, Scott?

He burst laughing. “Just kidding, man. She’s all yours. But that is only, if she doesn’t fall for me.” He winked.

I was already possessive of her. Like ′she’s mine and there’s no room for betting this time′ because we bet a lot, and that was how I lost my first kiss at thirteen. Scott bet me to kiss a fat spinster in one of his cousin’s wedding. Claire obviously grabbed me by my ear and pulled me out of the reception.

“Yeah, yeah, right. You get all the women,” I answered dismissively.

With a grin, he moved pass me, grabbing my balls on the way. It was just a bro thing. No big deal. No bro cries over that like a molested virgin.


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