A/N: This story is likely to be a one- shot…or two-shot it successfully steals everyone's attention. Thought I'd do a little something – something for y'all. Think of it as a late-Christmas and an early New-Year's present for being late on my other updates. And besides, I got inspired from reading a little Death Note fic and from listening to Good Girls Gone Bad. Enh. I've always wanted to test my skills in writing a…hot scene/semi-dark scene?
Warning: Possessive Huey! Manipulative Huey…I think? Semi-Dark Huey! & I might kick the rating up to M if I post the next chapter.
Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing.
Huey Freeman heaved a sigh in his signature fashion whilst closing the book with a firm shut, its noise echoing through his and his brother's bedroom. He had been reading for more than an hour now, and for a strange, incomprehensible reason, he just couldn't help but lack the mood to proceed reading his favorite Malcom X book. Especially when he was finally alone in peace. It had taken him years for him to seek some tranquility to commence his reading time, yet now that he gained it, his mind got sick of constantly soaking up multitudinous printed words.
Another sigh was cued from the eldest Freeman. He'd never comprehend how his brain functions, would he? Albeit, he could use this opportunity to maybe get to his katana practice. The last time he had even practiced with his Japanese sword was two months ago…and that had been rudely interrupted by a certain little Mariah Carey. A small grunt of frustration freed from his lips as the mere thought of his 16 year-old neighbor swirled in his mind.
That girl just loved pestering him at the wrong moments. Each time he tried to complete his daily activities, she just had to show up with that smile that overly radiated innocence and squeakily bombard him with uncountable, nosy questions. Huey this. Huey that. Couldn't he get a few seconds of distance from her? Don't get him wrong, though she may be an annoying neighbor, she was still a nice person with an open-minded sweet soul. But some alone time would be very much appreciated.
That theory immediately made him wonder why he was going to waste this ear-soothing, Jazmine and Riley free opportunity to catch up on his book. But this hypocritical sickness of boredom and laziness that we, teenagers of the 21st century suffer from, immediately answered his question.
Huey got up from his seat, grabbed his beloved katana and walked out of his shared bedroom, casually climbing down a flight of stairs that directed him to the front door. Since he had nothing else to do, he might as well go to his famous Oak Tree spot and admire the environmental beauty that this ignorant neighborhood miraculously managed to succeed. "Granddad, I'm going out for a bit," the adolescent called over his shoulder, his digits turning the doorknob clockwise.
Granddad who sat in the living room, his attention fully upon his Toshiba's screen, heedlessly waved his hand in dismissal. "Yeah, yeah. Just remember to go over the convenient store and get some orange juice for yo granddaddy."
Huey rolled his eyes, already out of the house with a shut of the door. He bet that his Granddad was on Facebook, surely trying to get kinky with a lady…who was probably about 20 to 30 years younger than him. Sigh. This retired terrorist always wondered how he manages to snag a few young ladies here and there, with his age and all. His look? No. His charm? No. His money? Hm – likely. I mean, look at Crystal Like The Champagne.
Now on the Oak Tree Hill after a few minutes of walking, dragging his weapon and climbing, Huey sat down on the hill's soft green grass, the view of the whole Woodcrest neighborhood before his nonchalant eyes. He could see everything from this height – the convenient store, Sr. Wuncler's immense mansion, his house, Jazmine's house, everything. This hill was his spot for a reason – it was a blissful, peaceful getaway from the world's ignorance and the government's attempt of assimilation. Just the way this Freeman liked it.
His eyes closed with an audibly, faint expulsion of air, treasuring the silence that surrounded his mind and soul, until he felt a recognizable presence approaching and heard a twig snap. Sigh. It looks like he can't practice his katana skills anymore. The silence was good while it lasted. "Jazmine – you can stop trying to scare me. It's not working," he voiced out loud, without the need to open his eyes and turn around.
He heard his former acquaintance Jazmine DuBois stump her foot on the ground, in defeat. "Aw, man! How the heck can you tell it's me? You didn't even turn around and look," she inquired incredulously, sitting down by Huey's side.
Huey shrugged, his eyes still admiring the view. "Enh. You're just not very good at scaring people."
"Hey, arrogant much," Jazmine playfully slapped his arm with a few innocent giggles – which made Huey inwardly groan in annoyance. He hated when she laughed like that, as if the bad in this world didn't exist. He hated that it made him feel weak and fluttery. And he didn't want to feel like this. He tried everything to make her stop acting this – crushing her illusions to asunder, straightforwardly and rudely exposing the truths behind many things she loved – to no avail. Her innocence clung to her brain like some sort of X-chemical super-sticky substance.
And he wanted to break that. So damn much.
The sky darkened from a heaven-like blue to a warm, orange-yellowish hue, giving the group of birds the signal to fly back to their home. The Oak Tree's leaves and the grass swayed to the light breeze, a few of their green particles now lost in the air. This warm, soothing blanket of silence enveloped the two teenagers in tranquility – well, for Huey, which quite surprised him a bit. He expected his strawberry blond-haired fellow to infinitely blab on about her favorite shows, music and whatnot.
Not bite her lips in contemplation and move her fingers in worry and embarrassment.
Huey was not one to nose through someone else's business, especially when it held no whatsoever link to his name, therefore he decided to not press the issue and ignored her obvious signs of discomfort and nervousness. He continued silently admiring the now dark – violet sky, until his ears twitched to Jazmine's voice. "Huey?"
God, her voice. The way she'd articulate her words with such purity…that'd put an angel to shame. He utterly wanted to ruin that. He didn't know why but his heart had skipped a beat to her angelic voice. He wanted to ruin her so that he wouldn't feel this weak anymore. He hated feeling like this. He wanted to corrupt her to the point that she'd lose every drop of that pureness and not affect him anymore.
"Yes Jazmine?" Huey questioned, not even trying hard to hide his annoyance.
As usual, Jazmine gave no heed to her acquaintance's obvious displeasure to her disturbance and talked, "We've known each other for a while now, right?"
Eyebrow quirked in mild interest, Huey turned his head to the left, now focused upon the DuBois. Was this girl really that foolish? Of course, it had been a while. They've been neighbors for more than 6 years now – and yet, he still hadn't managed to torn apart the good in her. Holding the urge to growl once more to that thought, Huey emotionlessly answered her question, though the way he drawled the vowel to his answer, you could tell he was anticipating the girl to go on. "Yes."
Jazmine lowered her head, continuously playing with her fingers, "Iwantyoutoteachmehowtobebad."
Huey's left eyebrow quirked once more in confusion. "What?"
Head slowly perked up in determination, Jazmine looked deeply through Huey's red-wine eyes with her eyes that could be mistaken as a pair of emerald stones from a mystical wonderland. The way they both twinkled with this light, which only a kid could hold, made him want to curse under his breath. God, through her gaze, he felt weak…and he hated that treacherous feeling to the bone. "I want you to teach me how to be bad," Jazmine announced clearly this time.
Huey merely blinked. From the outside, you'd think that her demand for his aid hadn't fazed him, but on the inside, he was beyond shocked. Since when was the Mariah Carey so conscious about herself? Scratch that – since when was she conscious about her state of mind? Actually, now that he thought about it, she must had been acting like this for some time. He did recall a time when he had caught her trying to steal a bubble gum and chocolate from the convenient store and the other time when she had tried to swear – which completely failed.
The revolutionist grabbed the bridge of his nose, mentally asking himself if this girl's kind of idiocy was normal for it to exist amongst the human race. "No."
"Why Huey?!" Jazmine gasped then her lips quivered in a puppy-dog pout. "I really need your help to change myself. You see, Cairo apparently likes girls with no morals – bad girls. And I really want him to notice me and not see me as some innocent sissy."
Huey's mind went blank as his heart stopped. The words that had just rolled out of the innocent lamb's tongue traveled in his ears, his anger presently going over the roof. How dare she tried to gain another boy's attention, let alone her ex-best friend's? Didn't she know that she was Huey's property? Not someone else's?
Wait.
What the hell was he thinking? Didn't he despise the girl for her abnormal innocence and her effect on him? He didn't want Jazmine…he only wanted to break her illusions and cleanliness into little, unrepairable, measly pieces. So why was he just mad seconds ago on her taking a liking of Cairo? His chains of thoughts shattered as Jazmine softly placed a hand on Huey's shoulder, her eyes still pleadingly on Huey's.
"Please – Huey. I'm begging you, teach me how to be bad. I want Cairo to like me."
Those little words of hers had just added fuel to fire.
Standing up from the grass and picking up his katana, Huey immediately grabbed Jazmine by the wrist and hastily dragged her along. The whole time that they had climbed down the hill and walked, Huey hadn't said one word, or even formulated a sound. Not a sigh. Not a grunt. Not a growl. Nothing. Just this confusing silence that had been picking on Jazmine's little ol' brain. But this adolescent noticed how stiff Huey's shoulders looked. "Huey?" she called, still being dragged – to his house.
She received no response from the said boy, the level of her confusion now reaching the maximum. "Huey?" she called once again, now realizing that they were both standing before his house. And it looked like Granddad wasn't there since his Dorothy was no longer parked on the driveway – exactly what Huey wanted.
With the help of his keys, he opened the door of his house and was met by silence. Perfect. No one was home. Riley was still at Cindy's place doing God-knows-what and Granddad was out, probably meeting some lady friend from Facebook. Perfect. Huey's grip on Jazmine's wrist tightened as he continuously dragged Jazmine upstairs, now standing before his closed bedroom door. "Huey, what are you doi-"
Just when Jazmine was about to question his dragging action and eerie quietness, Huey let go of his katana and slammed her on the door. His right hand was firmly placed upon it, by the mulatto's cinnamon-curled head, caging her in. Her heart paced with more speed than the fastest of living things as the proximity of his face was eating her alive. Their nose were practically almost touching.
"H-Huey," Jazmine squeaked, worry making its usual appearance on her visage.
His red-wine eyes bore into hers, probably looking at her soul right now. He could just see her innocence and her childishness that he craved for. She was going to be his. She didn't belong to Cairo. Jazmine was Huey's property. Her innocence for him to destroy. Only him. Jazmine was for him to corrupt in so many ways. And Huey was going to make sure of it. "You want to be bad…right?" he whispered in a husky, low tone, his mouth now close to Jazmine's ear.
His breath touched the crook of her neck. Jazmine looked elsewhere, trying so hard to maintain herself from letting his proximity eat her core. Why was he doing this to her? Why was he making her feel like this? Her thinking bubble, that never ceased to grow from the constant questions, soon popped as Huey's other hand found its way on Jazmine chin and lifted her face upwards, her eyes once again looking through Huey's, which held a hint of mischievousness.
"You look at me when I'm talking," he commanded and Jazmine nodded, as though she was casted in a spell of obedience. "Now, do you want to be…bad?" he repeated the question, taunting the girl to insanity.
His tone immediately made her panties wet. His low, semi whispered tone was like some sort of spell that got Jazmine to uncomfortably squeeze her legs together, in order to keep her underwear from getting too wet. The intensity that Huey projected made her heart melt like some goo. "Y-Yes," she whispered, her chest heaving.
If it was any possible, Huey moved in closer to Jazmine, their thighs and chests touching and that gave the mixed American a small jolt of adrenaline. The feeling was unexplainable. It felt as though she was electrocuted by this feeling that gave her heart this addictive rush and her lower region the need to be dominated. Why was she feeling like this? Her mind was too blank to think, but her body was desperately screaming to be handled. She let out a very petite moan as one of Huey's hand slowly sled down to her ass, possessively squeezing the life out of it, as the other one was lost in her cloud of cinnamon curls, pulling just enough to tip her head up. "How bad do you wanna be bad, Jazmine?" he whispered once more, slowly grinding to her.
"R-Really bad."
Huey wickedly smiled in victory before his lips crashed down on hers, his tongue ravishing Jazmine's strawberry taste as it was wildly demanding and teasing. God, her strawberry taste was driving him to insanity, especially with her sweet, soft lips. She was finally going to be his.
Her innocence was going to be his – then destroyed.
A/N: I thought I should try to make Huey a bit dark and manipulative with a very miscroscopic hint of love. So tell me if I nailed it or not. Was the one-shot decent :)? Good? Bad? Just – enh?