Chapter 2
My hands were shaking nervously as I drew my pencil across the paper. The image was vague, and not even I knew what I was drawing anymore. I looked up at her again, scanning her body and stifling a shudder. Her pink slip fell off of one of her shoulders, and I did my best to show off her flawless skin on the paper. Her long, tanned legs were stretched out in front of her, showing them off to the best of her ability. One hand was under her chin, the other resting on her lap. I had completed the drawing of her body, and I nervously moved onto her face.
I started with her large emerald eyes. I tried to make the eyes look desolate on the paper, but they ended up looking desire-coated. The way I wish she would look. Her eyebrows were interesting, like two small buttons above her eyes. Her mouth was in a pout, her full pink lips being the center of attention. I drew her diamond-shaped head, then her long crimson hair, and was complete.
I looked over my drawing, staring intently at the exaggerated features of her perfect figure. I willed for my drawing to change, wishing that I had drawn her more beautifully. Like she really was. But the sketchy lines made her figure waver, and the light graphite made the little things more intense. I sighed deeply, looking back up to see her.
She was sitting there, still in her pose, watching me sigh. I nodded to her, and she came up to look at my piece. I had a feeling that you weren't supposed to show the other the art piece, because that's what professionals do, but she came anyways. She came up behind me, and I shivered uncontrollably when I felt her steamy breath on my neck. She didn't say a word as she motioned for me to go sit down.
She, much unlike myself, didn't start drawing right away. She stared at my eyes for a good ten minutes, and then finally moved to look over the rest of me. I squirmed under her gaze, feeling exposed and nervous, like she could see right past my physical being. After almost twenty minutes, she began to draw on the paper. There was not a single other time when she looked up at me again.
I began to wonder if I was aloud to come out of my pose, but didn't question it. Every muscle in my body began to ache terribly after an hour, and I was seriously wondering what she was drawing. After another twenty minutes, when I was ready to fall out of my chair, she looked up at me. She nodded to me, and I moved out of my pose as fast as I could. I stretched, feeling my back crack. I walked over to her, coming up behind her and looking over the drawing.
I was stunned to silence. Every inch of my body was clear and vivid, every mark in perfect detail. My physique was strong and lean, hunched over in an almost protective way. My hands were clasped together, and they seemed to move on the page in a squirming manner. My face was complete and real, showing every inch of my soul as well as my looks. My eyes were full of everything I had felt: lust, reprieve, rejection, and longing. My eyebrows were pulled together in a questioning manner, and in my mind, I knew I was questioning her sanity.
I wanted to shred the paper into pieces; because it was full proof that she knew that I wanted her. She knew, and she had no interest in me.
"I've been assigned to show you around campus," she spoke softly, trying not to disturb my reverie. I looked up at her with shocked eyes, wondering why she hadn't told me earlier.
"Uh, ok…," I said, "when do you want to start?"
"Meet me at my room, number 213."
"Ok then…."
"Oh, by the way, I'm Kory Anders."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
So, with hope in mind, I went to her dorm for lunch. I prayed that somewhere along the way my charm would kick in, and she would fall for me just like everyone else. But, somewhere deep inside me, I knew that would never happen. I knew because she wasn't like everyone else. She was exotic and effervescent; careful and wise; unique and charming. She knew where I was headed, and she was avoiding it at all costs. Other girls would take one look and do anything to have me, a clone of everyone else. I knew she would never fall for me. I knew it as I walked down the hall, as I knocked on her door, as I dreamed about us, as I walked her to lunch.
I knew it, but that didn't stop me from trying.
So, with that in mind, we sat at an empty booth at a local diner, enjoying our French fries and shakes. She ordered a burger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake, and I almost choked on my water when she told that to the waiter. Every single girl who I had ever taken to dinner had ordered a salad, watching what they ate even though they were super-skinny. It just proved my point that she wasn't like other girls.
She was silent the whole time, quietly chewing her burger as I chattered away. I told her about how I was forced here by my adoptive father, Bruce, and had come here on a sports scholarship. I told her how my three best friends came here with me, Rachel, Victor, and Garfield. She asked me about Rachel, and I told her she was into herbs and medicine. She wasn't much of an artist, more of a poet. I didn't get into much detail about my life through my nervous babble, and she never questioned much.
I paused for a moment and took a bite of my now cold dinner. She was already finished, waiting patiently for me to say something else. I was about to ask her about herself, but she smiled widely and I lost all train of thought.
"You know," she says, her smirk growing wider, "you're not going to have me."
I nearly choked on my burger. Stunned to the furthest extent, I stared at her wide-eyed. She only smirked back at me, silently mocking me, saying, "Yeah, I know what you're up to. You want me to fall under your spell, just like all the others. But guess what? I'm not like them. I will never be like them, no matter how hard you try."
As if she had read my mind, she said, "You may have every girl on earth at your feet, but I refuse to succumb to your way of life."
It took me a moment to realize that that wasn't isn't my mind. Quickly regaining my composure, I hid my shock with a sly smirk. "Are you so sure about that?" I asked, looking into her now serious eyes. "How do you know about my way of life, anyways?"
Deadly serious, she spoke in a low whisper, "You do drugs, you love violence, and you treat women like trash."
She pretty much said it all.
But that made no difference to me. I wanted her, no…I needed her. And I wasn't about to let anything stand in the way of that. I spoke one last time, saying, "That doesn't mean I can't have you."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We each fell into the darkness on our own. We just happened to find each other under the water. We helped each other swim, not to the surface, but to keep from drowning entirely. But somehow, we pulled each other down further….
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
I know, extreme OOC. Robin talking, HA!! Yeah, I know…. Well, I'm enjoying this experiment so far! Hope you all like it just as much!