Chapter Text
You were on top of him.
Thighs straddling him from either side. Knees pressing into the sodden floorboards to hear them bend and cough.
Wolf’s wrists were tied up with yours above his head, and you pressed hard, a giggle fighting its way out your chest.
His silver eyes—wide and gleaming and oh so like starlight—tore into you. His black jacket rung under him as he curled, but he froze, like maybe he kind of shouldn’t.
“What the fuck.”
His breath hit your face and it stung of nicotine and warmth and warmth and warmth.
You smiled.
“I like you.”
He twisted his hips under you. Shifted slightly to the left where the last rays of daylight clawed around.
Then he kicked you.
You weren’t sure how or when he got loose from your grip, but that didn’t matter. You heaved out a groan and stumbled back a little, hitting one of the desks strewn about. Not that you could add to the haphazardness of your surroundings.
It toppled over with a hack and a bang, ricocheting down the empty halls.
“Fuck off,” Wolf huffed—so faint, so there, so because of you. You grinned.
He was crawling back, away from you obviously, but towards what? His back pressed against the wall, between a mop and a closet with one door off its hinges.
“Don’t wanna,” you replied, dusting your skirt and almost trilling at the way he took you in. Feet and knees and hips and hands and smile. Smile. Smile.
You couldn’t stop smiling and he couldn’t stop staring.
Something flapped away from the window missing a few panes.
You looked at it and he looked down. Where the desk’s shadow bit into the cracks. Where yours didn’t.
Then you met his gaze again.
Silver eyes behind silver frames held together by a pastel band-aid down the middle.
You wanted a closer look.
Earlier, you could see the scar that ran down his chin, the mottled white flakes along his brows. His hands, rough and jagged, set wrong in your grasp.
You walked through the door.
As in, right through the wood.
“Fucking hell,” Wolf murmured to himself, eyes never looking away from where you were.
“Feels like heaven to me.” You popped out from behind him, your lower half still in the other classroom. You were hunched over but he couldn’t see the way you tried to twist your hands, timid, like an elementary student asking for one more candy, or the way you tittered from one leg to the other—
He punched you.
Right in the nose.
You lurched back, slingshot away from him and onto the ground. Blood dripped onto your legs.
You slid your tongue over your teeth and tasted iron and rot and everything you were not. With the back of your hand, you wiped your jaw and it came back red and warm and warm and warm.
He made you so warm.
You hobbled back up, crossing the cracked sallow walls to meet him again but Wolf was gone.
You could hear him curse (“fucking concussed myself into delirium—fucking shit I’ve gone insane, fucking hormones.”), hear his rapid footfalls bash against the tired grain of the stairs, held through sheer will and will alone.
You leaned against the window, cheek to palm, watching his figure appear and disappear through the open patches in the shrubbery that embellished the back gate, like watching old security camera footage, but this was so much more appealing.
He hurled his bag over the spiked iron fence, and soon his body followed. Dust rose where his sneakers met the un-trekked paths.
He was mumbling something as he shoved his hands into his pocket, the bag hanging on by a sleeve.
“Come back,” you whined, pouty.
You watched a tiger keychain, small and orange, rattle down the steps alongside him. He picked it up, pushing it into his blazer, and off Wolf went, into the dusk, his shadow trailing after him large and gray.
The wind loped, tossing the half-had cigarette off the ledge before you.
In the soot, your finger drew a heart.