She just wanted no strings sex. He couldn't resist her – both his hormones and his heart. A story about falling in love without wanting to, and having your heart broken when it wasn't meant to.
Inspired by a friend and a teacher. Mature. It's a new story, and hopefully, my writing isn't as awful as it was before.
Prologue: Black Bubblegum
She walked in, backless hippie shirt and open neckline. The lights just seemed to illuminate the ink on her shoulder blade, and a wisp of black at her hip. Confidence emanated from her, but she wasn't intimidating… just rather sexy. Tight jeans, loose green on top and the most worn-out chucks I had ever seen on such shapely legs. Long and lithe, brown-haired goddess – and she was mine. In a way. In a way just enough to satisfy.
Bella plopped down in the seat I had reserved for her, an ungraceful mess of trying to place her bag, take her notebooks out and sit cross legged all at the same time. I straightened her out, and she breathed a laugh, soft eyes and even softer tones. After falling back, long brown hair sweeping across the back of her chair and my arm, "Hi Edward."
Despite the attraction and the sudden weakness of my knees, I managed to converse some kind of generic greetings – reading her lips for her thoughts, but unable to read her mind. It was terrifying, interesting and wonderful. I had known Bella since she was an awkward strange girl, preferring to play with my Power Rangers than playing Barbie. She stole my Hot Wheel cars and mutilated them into something unrecognizable, and learned piano first before I even took an interest in it. Bella knew me so well, and she could read me like a book, knowing almost what to say at the right time. I liked her humour, her bluntness, how she acted so tough, when she's really the most insecure person. She's not gorgeous, like supermodel stunning – but more of just like… bubblegum. Comforting and sweet, solace and annoyance but delicious.
I felt a sudden jab in my ribs, and noticed Bella elbowing me to pay attention to the professor, who's a radical, cool professor – white streaks lining her dark brown hair, but can't compete with the striped tights and pink running shoes. Morgan commands a room with just a gaze, smiles enough to make you enjoy the class and put you at ease but has that air of intelligence and authority to make sure you damn well stay on her good student list.
I shrugged, pretending not to care and trying to pull off the whole 'whatever' attitude, but while my eyes were on the clock, my ears were on the teacher.
"Seriously Edward, you can't pull that whole slouch thing, Esme drilled posture into you as a child, and you seriously think two years of so-called independence is going to change that? Sit the fuck up and copy the notes," she hissed, irritated and flushed, rolling eyes and disapproving voice.
I smirked, I never needed to copy notes, I had a photographic memory, and enough understanding to make it through the year. I wouldn't do excellent, but I could pull a passing mark easily.
"Just copy the notes for me, please? You know I can't study the notes I write – they're hardly legible."
Sighing, I knew that somehow I would end up writing notes during the lecture, if not for my own benefit, but for Bella, but I couldn't give up so easily. I closed my eyes and stretched my neck leisurely, keeping the smirk on my face. "Just type it out then."
I couldn't see it, but I could feel her annoyed glare, "I get too caught up in the grammatical errors and shit when I type and miss out too much. Please, Edward. You'll end up doing it anyway, we both know that."
"Fine." I could never deny her anything, and I'm pretty sure she knew that.
Most likely to be continued, but will not be updated until I hit at least 4 chapters in reserve.
I'm under the delusion that people will review. Humour me.
