Want You Bad
Running Away
Alexis
My head is spinning. Every day is a mix of my reality and a dream world. Those brief forty minutes I had with Lucifer in the music room replays itself over and over in my head, like a film stuck on repeat.
From the moment I first heard his angelic voice, to when I saw the surprise in his gorgeous blue eyes, and to the fateful moment I'd hurried out the room.
Why did I do that? There's not a second that goes by that I don't regret not staying for a little longer, even a couple more minutes.
I haven't seen him since then. Is he in? I don't know. I can't bring myself to go and see if he's in music.
I'm nervous. I don't know what I'd say, what I'd do. I may appear confident, but I'm not in the unknown, and Lucifer is a mystery to me.
I sigh and close my eyes, letting cold air from my open window rush over me. Lucifer readily comes to the forefront of my mind. I can even hear his voice; it sounds like he's standing in my room, those blissful moments have been replayed so much.
His body is perfect, I'm sure. Though it's hard to tell with that baggy shirt he always wears.
An unbidden thought creeps into my mind and a blush burns my checks red.
I bat away the image of Lucifer topless and continue to re-live the scene.
His tentative smile...genuine, yet revealing nothing about himself.
The blue, blue eyes that bore into mine understandingly while I spoke.
His pale checks that were a little blotchy from crying. Lines of black rivers ran down his face.
And then...
His mouth, snakebite piercings, that I can only imagine would feel so good against my sk-
But I digress. I'm embarrassing myself here.
And then the memory moves on to the other parts of him.
The beautiful, glossy black hair that casts a shadow over his eyes. Oh-so-carefully spiked at the back and styled at the front. I'm SURE he straightens that fringe. Hot.
I scowl darkly as I remember his injuries. The black eye, the bruises that are probably concealed elsewhere...
His cuts.
Why does he do it? Because of the bullies? Does it make him feel better, lessen his pain? I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but it only proves to add to my curiosity.
I want to know him. I want to be his friend. Hell, I want to be MORE than that. Be there to hold him, when he's feeling down. Cry with him, laugh with him. Just be with him.
It's time for action.
I can't hide away from everything anymore, unwilling to face up to anything. I'm going to stop faking it.
And I'm going to get what I want.
Tomorrow, I will tell Lucifer how I feel.
My head is spinning. Every day is a mix of my reality and a dream world. Those brief forty minutes I had with Lucifer in the music room replays itself over and over in my head, like a film stuck on repeat.
From the moment I first heard his angelic voice, to when I saw the surprise in his gorgeous blue eyes, and to the fateful moment I'd hurried out the room.
Why did I do that? There's not a second that goes by that I don't regret not staying for a little longer, even a couple more minutes.
I haven't seen him since then. Is he in? I don't know. I can't bring myself to go and see if he's in music.
I'm nervous. I don't know what I'd say, what I'd do. I may appear confident, but I'm not in the unknown, and Lucifer is a mystery to me.
I sigh and close my eyes, letting cold air from my open window rush over me. Lucifer readily comes to the forefront of my mind. I can even hear his voice; it sounds like he's standing in my room, those blissful moments have been replayed so much.
His body is perfect, I'm sure. Though it's hard to tell with that baggy shirt he always wears.
An unbidden thought creeps into my mind and a blush burns my checks red.
I bat away the image of Lucifer topless and continue to re-live the scene.
His tentative smile...genuine, yet revealing nothing about himself.
The blue, blue eyes that bore into mine understandingly while I spoke.
His pale checks that were a little blotchy from crying. Lines of black rivers ran down his face.
And then...
His mouth, snakebite piercings, that I can only imagine would feel so good against my sk-
But I digress. I'm embarrassing myself here.
And then the memory moves on to the other parts of him.
The beautiful, glossy black hair that casts a shadow over his eyes. Oh-so-carefully spiked at the back and styled at the front. I'm SURE he straightens that fringe. Hot.
I scowl darkly as I remember his injuries. The black eye, the bruises that are probably concealed elsewhere...
His cuts.
Why does he do it? Because of the bullies? Does it make him feel better, lessen his pain? I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but it only proves to add to my curiosity.
I want to know him. I want to be his friend. Hell, I want to be MORE than that. Be there to hold him, when he's feeling down. Cry with him, laugh with him. Just be with him.
It's time for action.
I can't hide away from everything anymore, unwilling to face up to anything. I'm going to stop faking it.
And I'm going to get what I want.
Tomorrow, I will tell Lucifer how I feel.
♠ ♠ ♠
Wow, it has been AGES since one of us updated O.O We've got the ideas, just haven't written them down yet, having to study for GCSEs is a drag =[So...a comment would be nice? :D
Not sure when Lucifer's POV will be up, soz guys xx TheTallOne