She knew she it was wrong, and so did he. But they both wanted each other badly. So badly. Their lust towards each other was cute, but they kept it to a minimum, so it wasn't obvious. It started with those cute, little feelings that year Nina came. But when he came back, it soon became more heated, more romantic.
It started out with some flirting here and there, but Eddie, well, he never saw it because Patricia and Jason were just so damn sneaky.
But overtime, it developed into something more, something much more. The kiss was full of passion, full of lust and want, the need they had for each other. The affair was soon a regular thing, the flirting, the messy make-outs after classes. They even went out a few times. And it was the secret love they both desired so much.
Eddie. He was oblivious, and for Patricia, that was a good thing. Sure, she loved Eddie dearly, and wanted be with him, and Jason was fine with that. Jason just made her feel special. Every time they touched there would be sparks. Eddie didn't have to know. It'd be over soon, wouldn't it?
But that was the thing, Jason and Patricia didn't know when it would be over. They tried once. It didn't work, because two days later they were back in the Janitors closet again. Giving up each other would be like giving up a drug. They needed to gradually take in less and less of the drug, until the it was gone.
Patricia and Jason had talked last night, deciding it would be best to slowly drag away from one another. They would cut down on the loving and focus on everything more important.
One day at a time.
One less kiss at a time.
After months.
They were ready.
Patricia and Jason had had normal lives once again for about 5 days now. They only contacted in and about history and drama classes. Patricia and Eddie were going strong. Everything was how it was supposed to be. But the lust was still buried deep into the two past-lover's cores.
It had to be dug up and put to rest.
"You and I both know that this has to end, I have a boyfriend, this is illegal, and everything will be better once it's totally normal." Patricia said. The two were in the middle of an intense fight, hot tears threatened to come out, clogging her vision of Jason's sorrowful expression.
"Maybe it would have been best if I didn't come back, your life would just be so much better, Patricia."
"No, Jason, you make me so happy every time I see you smile, you make me so glad I have you and wouldn't want it any other way." She said, the tears now rolling down her cheeks, and he crying too. The teacher and his student only had to look at each other before embracing and holding each other tight. Her face dug into his chest and his head was buried into her shoulder. They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, whispering loving things into each other's ears. Patricia couldn't hold it in any longer.
"I love you." She whispered. And to her surprise, he whispered back,
"And I love you even more." They pulled apart, and not a second later their lips were crashed together, it was passionate and loving, their stomachs had butterflies in them. A perfect moment.
The door opened. They heard it and pulled apart, shocked expressions on their faces as the saw the person in the doorway. Tears in his eyes.
"Patricia?" he asked, sadness lingering in the boy's voice.
That sadness soon turned into fury.
Eddie slammed the door, pushed Jason against a desk, and then walked over to Patricia.
"Eddie, I—" But she was cut off by Eddie's hand against her cheek, she fell to the ground, flustered by what had just happened. Her cheek was throbbing with pain. Eddie, before stomping out the room says,
"Don't tell a soul I slapped you, slut."
Not a minute later, Jason rushed to her side and touched her cheek, ever so delicate, like her face was as fragile as fine china. But still, she winced in pain, but he took her in his arms, sitting in the drama room, that Friday night.
Soon the police, Eddie, and Mr. Sweet came into the room, pulling the two apart and putting the teacher in handcuffs.
Patricia Williamson fells to her knees and cried.
