Imogen Moreno.
Her name slid off the tongue like butter; like; that Niagara Falls thing his parents dragged him to on his birthday once. Neigh, it was smoother than that. The way she presented herself was one of the most eerily mysterious and yet alluring things he has ever experienced. Her body had its own magnetic field, one so strong he had to distance himself to prevent from getting sucked into its orbit. IUt was a gravitational pull heftier than Jupiter itself.
"Imogen Moreno, pleased to meet you."
Her voice; oh man her fucking voice. He proudly labeled himself as different than most guys; resistant of the stereotype that any guy no matter what wants to fuck the brains out of you; an exception he thought. Hell, he dated an abstinent conservative Christian girl for 3 whole months and didn't mind at all. Yet for some reason when she spoke in that seductive catty voice of hers, he regularly found himself wanting to rip the clothes off her body and take her in the very halls of that god-forsaken school. He felt disgusted with himself when these sinful feelings arose. He wasn't religious in any sense, but there must've been a special type of hell for the thoughts that were drifting through his mind whenever he saw her.
Amongst other things, she was…different. She was eccentric, quirky, peculiar, bizarre, outlandish, abnormal, droll, unconventional, unnatural, perfect, irregular, strange, and so forth. Even for a guy who drove a vintage Hearse to school every day and decorate his finger nails with a black sharpie; he could say so. She was the only girl he had seen wear cat ears, and wear the proudly for that matter. She made a blatant effort to oppose and destroy any signs of conformity into this humble society. It was all just a ploy really, this he caught onto. He would discreetly observe the satisfaction creased into her face every time someone noticed her bizarre attributes; noticed her.
Above all of the neon eye-shadow, the chopsticks that were plunged into her hair, the vintage buddy-holly glasses; he saw her. The girl; the person; the human being that was Imogen Moreno. He quickly realized something others were too naïve or just too lazy to do…she was beautiful. The way her lustrous bay hair bounced off her shoulders when she took her pig tails down; the way she flashed her alabaster teeth in a goofy smile each time he looked at her; the way her chocolate eyes seemed to sparkle, no glitter in the right hue of light; the way she knitted her eyebrows innocently when she was confused; the absolute way she was. Every feature, every detail, every aspect of this girl appeased him.
Others didn't see it, which enraged him, more than it actually should. He wanted to display her to everyone, flaunt her to the people who failed to see the real Imogen Moreno. People would stare it him in disdain, mutter backhanded insults to the wild-eyed boy who shoved this strange person in their faces. They would never see her like he did, for multiple reasons.
Most of all; he was coherently and irrevocably in love with her.
Skinny Love, as they would call it. He refused to acknowledge he was, he needed to keep his mindset on Clare. The one he was supposed to love. But time after time he found his eyes wandering back to his side-kick, his partner-in-crime, his newly labeled best-friend. He knew that Imogen was in love with him too, she never really tried to conceal it. But he refused to suck her into the abyss that pertained to his affections. All of his past relationships ended over-dramatically, it was inevitable. They loved him, and then they slowly but surely distanced themselves because of his obsessive and protective nature. He never wanted Imogen to see that side of him; he valued their friendship too much. So he built a mental wall; a barrier to keep her from getting hurt.
But of course those walls came crashing down; imploding on it that fateful night.
