A Trickle of Blood, A Drop of Pleasure

A/N : Yay, it's already my Summer Vacation so I can probably update this story more often. Thank you mucho to all the kind reviewers. xD

Chapitre Deux

A burning shack.

A shadowy figure stepping from the flames.

A sinister smile.

And the velvet voice whispering the last words I was about to hear.

"Charlotte Messing?"

My train of disturbing thoughts was quickly broken by the droning voice of my English professor, Sir Heusen. I hesitantly rose up my seat, chewing on my inner lip nervously as I tried to recall what was happening before I was "daydreaming".

"Yes…sir?" I answered nervously, grabbing the edge of the armrest. He came closer to me, his deep blue eyes scrutinizing. I somewhat flinched at that action.

"Please answer my question." He said in a rather harsh tone. I cursed in my mind, which was definitely inaudible unless he was some kind of a mind reader or something. I didn't remember any query except for that one in Romeo and Juliet. Which I couldn't recall.

"Sir, can you please repeat your question?" My voice dropped at every word. He knit his grey eyebrows in frustration before he left the aisle where my chair was.

"All of you know perfectly well that I do not repeat my questions twice." He said sternly. All I could do was roll my eyes at him while his back was turned as I slowly sank on my uncomfortable, yet familiar wooden armchair.

"Ah yes. The new student," he paused, staring at the card in his hand before his eyes wandered to the back row, but definitely not in my seat. "Mr. Douglas Poynter, please stand up."

Everyone's heads turned around the moment he mentioned the words "new student". I was one of those. I had to admit that I was a bit interested and curious at the identity of the stranger from the doorway just a few moments ago. The gorgeous stranger who turned out to be my classmate.

"Verona." He answered simply, his voice smooth like flowing honey. Heusen gave him the approving nod and gestured him to sit down. Everyone's heads were still staring at him, but Heusen must've done something that made all of them stare at the blank board again.

Except for me.

My eyes wandered all over his visage, looking away from time to time so that he won't notice me staring at him. I couldn't believe that I would encounter someone as…beautiful as him in my entire life.

His skin was pale, the dark blue veins visible in some parts. His hair was dyed in a radical shade of purple with a bit of mahogany, messy but strangely attractive. There was a small lip ring at the corner of his bow-shaped lips.

And his smoky grey eyes were…hypnotizing. I just couldn't look away, even if I knew that he was only a few seats away from where I was. And that soon, he'd catch me staring at him.

And soon was soon enough. His head whipped quickly, surveying the people around him. And his grey eyes met my wide, aquamarine ones.

We held eye contact for a few minutes, or even seconds, but it felt like an eternity to me. His expression didn't change: it was blank all throughout the "staring contest", but mine were as big as saucers. However, to my relief, he turned his head slowly and looked away. I didn't look at his direction after that, afraid that he'd catch me staring at him again.

I endured Mr. Heusen's droning for another forty-five minutes, before the bell rang signifying recess time.

And somehow, I couldn't help but to think about that Douglas Poynter as I rose up my seat. I glanced at him over my shoulder as I left the room: he was still sitting there, staring at the scenery from outside even if almost the whole class left the room already.

What a strange boy.

"He. Is. So. Hot."

"I can't believe he's in your class! I envy you!"

"I wonder who he is hanging out with at this time."

As I passed by the hallways, all the conversations seemed to revolve around him. The girls, and even the guys (but no…don't get me wrong. What they're talking about is not the same as the females.)

And as I expected, Chelsea and her "friends" were talking about him as well. As their group passed by me, I tried to get a snippet of what they were talking about.

"I heard his next class was History." was all I could hear. I huffed slightly in disappointment, trying to leave the hallway but a hand was clasped tightly around my arm. I turned around and saw my perfect older sister staring down at me, that familiar smug smile on her face.

"Poynter's your classmate in English right?" She asked, her eyebrow raised. With her free hand, she flipped her hair over her shoulder. An action which I've grown to hate over the years we've spent together at home, and at school.

"Yeah." I answered, looking at the jade green floors…and her polished black shoes.

"And apparently, he's in your Music, Mathematics and Health class too." Her voice seemed unnaturally high as she said that. I knitted my eyebrows in frustration: I had…four classes with the elusive, and gorgeous, new kid. And knowing Chelsea…

"Right…"

"You know what you have to do, sweetie." Chelsea flashed her sickly sweet smile at me, before she left with Hanna and company, her shrill laughter echoing as the walked down the hallway like they owned the school. Of course, I had to follow her because God knows what she'll do to my already ruined reputation as the resident sore loser.

I walked towards the library, heavy Algebra and History books in hand, when I felt someone brush against my shoulder. I turned my head and saw him, his face curious and his penetrating grey eyes glowing.

He had a strange smile on his lips, as if he finally found something that he was looking for.

"Your name is Charlotte right? Charlotte Messing?"