Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
We grabbed some McDonald’s on the way and we have the boxes between us on the rock as we eat.
Sebastian nearly finishes his double burger in a few bites while I take my time.
He lifts a shoulder. “I assume that if I took you to a restaurant, you wouldn’t be comfortable.”
“Your restaurant of choice is The Grill where everyone kisses your ass. Of course, I wouldn’t be comfortable there.”
He smiles. “If it were any other girl, they’d be fussing about how I don’t want to be seen in public with them.”
“I’m not other girls and I don’t care about the public.”
“You prefer being alone.”
He didn’t voice it as a question, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking about. This part of him is scary, and I want to escape as far as I can from it, and yet, my feet won’t take me anywhere.
I’m glued in place, muttering, “Sort of.”
“To read manga?”
“I…don’t do that.”
“Do you hoard them?” The amusement in his tone pisses me off.
“Yeah, and masturbate with them. Happy now?”
“No. Now that you put the image in my head, I need the details. Or a demonstration. Both are acceptable.”
“In your dreams. Besides, it’s all digital now. No one buys physical manga anymore.”
“The geeks do.”
“I’m…not a geek.”
“Oh, sorry. An otaku.”
“Screw you.”
“Believe me, there’s nothing else I’d rather do. But we have to balance things out for that twenty percent non-sex part. Or maybe I should reduce it to ten percent. What do you think?”
“I think you have sex problems.”
“I’m a healthy twenty-one-year-old male in his prime and that comes with a strong sex drive. And it’s my mission to make you feel that it’s all normal. Natural. Chemical.”
“What if I don’t want normal?”
He finishes his burger, eyes shining with mischief. “Then I can show you abnormal.”
“That’s…not what I meant, you pervert.”
“I was thinking about different positions. Where did your head go, pervert?”
My cheeks flame and I stuff a few French fries in my mouth to stop from incriminating myself further.
Sebastian runs the tip of his fingers over my cheek. “You have a cute blush.”
“I told you, I’m not cute!”
“Easy, Tsundere.”
“So now what? We’re just going to sit here while you annoy me?”
“I annoy you?”
“That’s news…because?”
“You don’t know me, Nao.”
“I know you’re a rich kid from a rich family with political shit going on. Oh, and you’re the star quarterback nobody shuts up about and keeps shoving down everyone’s throat—mine included, by the way. Does that sum it up?”
“Not even close. You just described the image I project, which is so similar to your metallic Goth, satanic follower image. Does it express who you are on the inside?”
“Of course not.”
“Then why do you think mine does?”
Because I want it to. Because I’m still holding on to the hope that he’ll indeed turn out to be shallow. Yet the more time I spend with him, the more I’m certain the opposite is true.
After chewing a bite of my burger, I choose my words carefully. “No, I don’t. I believe everyone has layers they hide from the outside world.”
“Precisely. Just like how we’re both hiding how much we enjoyed that chase and everything that happened after.”
“Sebastian…”
“It’s a layer that you refuse to acknowledge because you’re ashamed of it.”
“You’re…not?”
“No. It’s who I am and there’s nothing to change about it.”
“But you’re hiding it, too.”
“Not because I’m ashamed.”
“Then why?”
“To play the social game. But I don’t have to with you, because we’re compatible.”
I snort. “How many girls have fallen for that?”
“None, because I’ve never found one compatible enough to say it to.”
“Then keep searching.”
“Why would I when you’re right in front of me?”
“I’m not one of your toys, Sebastian.”
“No, you’re more. If it were anyone else, they would’ve screamed bloody murder the night I asked you to run, but you played along, fought and clawed.”
“Anyone in my position would’ve done that.”
“Not while having fuck-me eyes.” He reaches a hand out and wraps it around my nape.
My breath hitches as I swallow the bite of food stuck in the back of my throat. My pulse speeds out of control and it’s like I’m falling into a different state of mind from merely a gesture.
Not just any gesture.
His hand around my throat—tempting, hovering, threatening.
The thought that he could cut off my breathing in a fraction of a second keeps me on the edge in a frighteningly exciting way.
“And they certainly don’t feel so fucking good when I attempt to choke them.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re similar, Nao, you and I. And I’ll make you embrace it even if it’s the last thing I do.”
15
Sebastian
Coming to The Grill used to be normal. In here, I’m the center of attention and I also enjoy the mindlessness of it.
The feelings that reach me from everyone around me are a much-needed distraction from my ominous ones.
Coming from my background and being my grandparents’ favorite charity case has forced me to turn off my ability to feel. Or rather, to stop relating to others and only watch them from a clinical view.