MeGoNuts:
OP: He Has no Idea
.
.
.
"How about you and I hook up?"
That wasn't the first time he had heard those words.
That night flashed right before his eyes. The punch-to-the-face first impression, witty small talk, unbelieveable chemistry, mindblowing sex with all the caresses, animosity, ferociousity, scratches, pants and those goddamn intoxicating kisses. It was head-on love at first sight with absolutely no return.
The morning after was undescribable. He had been ecstatic and euphoric, the chemistry had been obvious, but that didn't last long. He left.
Then it hit him. It was most probable that he wouldn't see him again. The amount of grief, anxiety, hurt. All the long, long nights with no sleep. The apathy. It was too much.
But now he was here. And he had no idea how he felt, what he had felt and gone through. Of course he wouldn't recognise him, he was a man now.
The bastard had no fucking idea.
His heart jumped to his throat and the horrible void opened in his chest again.
"You think you're on my level? Are you sure you're not asking to be my subordinate?"
Damn it hurt.
