I'll confess that I really hate being so unpredictable, so unsure… but hey! Chapter update!

Sorry for the delay, I had some internal problems a few hours ago, and I just couldn't stop playing a game my cousin gave me -seriously, it's awesome, I love it-. However, I must thank AnimeQueen1260, because you made me see the light. I wasn't ready to post this chapter this morning.

Well, I think this is a very short chapter, but I really hope you enjoy it(:

Chapter #6

"So, you going to help me or not?" Asked the taller one.

"To battle Aubrey?" Asked the other with a voice that revealed her gender.

"For now, yes."

The other seemed to be having some trouble considering her options, but at the end, however, she accepted.

"Do we have an accord then?" The other extended a tanned hand.

The woman smiled, "Consider it done." And shook her companion's hand.

Aubrey couldn't help feeling more than just embarrassed.

Why does this kind of issues had to happen precisely to her?!

God knows she didn't deserve it.

She knew exactly how she looked like, and she definitely didn't like it.

A beautiful, respectable redhead young lady, sitting among a group of excited, dirty-tongued teenagers -her frie-… classmates-, discussing over the hotness of their Latino classmate. And of course, she was the only one not participating in the conversation, but completely ignoring it… or at least doing her best effort for not doing so.

Could that get any worse?

But, oh, you had to ask if something can get any worse, you had to make that stupid question. Doesn't people know that every time someone asks that particular question something worse happens?! God hates us, I say! Fate is only matter of perspective, luck is so as well, everything is matter of damn perspective!

However, we must admit -and mostly, me, because I've made a terrible mistake-, that fate is not matter of perspective -unless your as twisted and sick as I must admit I am-. Everything happens for a reason, does it not?

But well, that wasn't exactly the thought the redhead young missy was having now.

Not after she had so confidently left her oh so called friends to have a moment of supposed peace that obviously had become impossible to have then and there.

The library was supposed to be empty.

"Life hates me." She silently complained.

"Life hates us all." Replied the young man standing next to a bookshelves.

"What did you say?" Asked Aubrey, pretending she hadn't heard him.

"I think you heard me quite well, beauty." Angel said, raising his gaze to meet hers.

Unconsciously, Aubrey stepped back. "What makes you think so? Would I be asking if I had heard you?"

"Yes, you would." The Latino replied, closing his book, before slowly walking towards her.

The redhead stood her ground. "May I ask why do you believe so?" She asked in a haughty tone.

Angel stopped. "That's because, you, my little phoenix, have a very peculiar tone of pink in your cheeks, and I've noticed your lower lip has started trembling very lightly, almost imperceptibly… which I suppose means that you are lying…?" He asked in a voice that meant his words as a fact more than a question.

Aubrey fell silent, knowing that the git standing before her was -very much to her dislike- right. He knew she was lying. The mentioned fact, said with that inexpressive tone of voice, completely lacking of his usually flirting tone, and that strange look in his eyes, so different than the one she was so used to see in him, made her feel the bush in her cheeks hardening.

A pitch of fear start growing in the deepest corner of her heart. Was something wrong with him…-?

"Besides, you're a girl, it's easy to know when you're lying."

Before the redhead could react, the Latino was caressing her cheek with seductive temptation. There, in his eyes, a sparkle of lust could be seen behind his mask of blankness.

"Your skin is so soft…" He whispered, getting closer.

Then she fell into account. There was the git she was so used to see every damn week.

And he had just made a very terrible mistake.

Slowly, Aubrey felt his breath a little too close against her flesh, yet allowed him to continue, for now.

Play with her. He dared to play with her. After all this time… didn't he know who she was…? His stupid game was going to cost him… so regrettably much.

When their lips were mere millimeters apart, Aubrey let out a quiet, yet mocking laugher.

"You think yourself a Casanova, but let me tell you something, Angel," Their eyes locked. That was the first time she used his name, he realized, but before he could do a thing to prevent what was coming next, he was moaning in pain, on his knees, and she was gently taking his face into her hands, forcing him to meet her hazel ruthless orbs with mocking disdain, then she leaned her head next to his, nearby licking his ear as she whispered him sweet words as poison, "you're no one to play with me like this, you're a stupid boy, please start growing up already." Then, she let him fall and crash against the soft floor.

And with that, she was gone.

Aubrey couldn't help feeling more happy.

She was satisfied with herself, she had to admit. That had been a so damn good hit.

"May he have the taste of my rage."

He was a good actor, though. Really convincing, but a complete failure at the end. Pity. Yet that had been what had saved her from something she utterly refused to do.

Most exciting, one must say, yet not enough to tempt the young missy.

"Keep dancing in my hand, love, and never stop."

Her heels clicked on the polished floor, echoing through the empty hall quite elegantly, revealing her high class, in a rhythm very few people was able to imitate.

"I need someone to make me dance."

She kept singing, until she felt her phone ringing in her purse. She took it out, humming for herself, and noticed she had just received a message from Emilia.

She hadn't been in the mood lately, but all of a sudden, her friend's idea seemed more than exquisite.

"Why not? It would be fun…"

Aubrey smirked, feeling no much more than simple pity for Angel, and very little guilt for what she had done to him.

"He deserves what he got."

There was something the Latino had yet to learn about this girl; however, that lesson had been given to him just thirty seconds ago.

Stop messing around with her.

It is said an average human can bear 45 units of pain; a pregnant woman, when giving birth to her child, bears 57 units of pain, equivalent to 20 bones broken at once. But when you hit a man in his manhood, he bears 9000 units of pain, which is equal to 160 births, equivalent to 3200 bones broken at once.

From then on, Angel would never forget it.

However, it didn't mean he wouldn't stop chasing her.

Fool.

Ideas come and go… how sad. I must be very sick to keep on with this.

Not sure where I heard that song, or if it's even real, but I have faith that it is. I would be very embarrassed if not.

Liked it? Hated it?

Don't worry, I did too.

Please let me know what you think!