Student from Hell

Ch.13-Nobody understands.

“I understand where you’re coming from. And I will grant every wish you have. Well, every wish except for this one.” He sounded as if he’s feeling sorry for me, then smiles genuinely, and I can’t help but laugh.

And how could I not? I sound like a broken record that plays for a deaf man.

“And you have to look at this from my point of view also. You’re the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. You’re smart, funny, stubborn, sweet, and I can go on for hours. And I never wanted something or someone as bad as I want you. ” Sweet Jesus, Mary mother of God, he left me speechless again.

The sincerity in his voice made my stupid heart race, and the stupid things in my stomach, which I refuse to acknowledge as butterflies are now having a raging party inside my knotted stomach.

“Besides, it’s like you’re telling a kid that he can’t have his favorite present for Christmas. That’s just cruel.” The way he said it was the last drop, and I burst out laughing like I haven’t laughed in years.

I missed my laughter, I missed feeling so good, but I’m also feeling sooooo soooo bad. I can’t. I just... can’t.

“You won’t change my mind. Go and have fun.” I urged as soon as I stopped laughing, and he sighs in defeat and leans over and kisses my cheek a little longer than necessary.

“We’ll see about that...” He trailed off in a velvety voice against my burning cheek, brushing it with his hot breath and plump lips, taking a bit of my breath away.

For Christ’s sake, why can’t I pull away?

I need to have a serious conversation with myself!

“Have a nice evening, Cassius.” He said at last, then kisses me on the corner of my parted lips, and f**k me dead if I know how I restrained myself from grabbing a fistful of his sexy dark hair and crushing my lips on his, then kiss him until we both bleed.

“Thank you. You too.” I managed to reply in an almost normal tone of voice, but the huskiness couldn’t be masked even if I tried, and he pulls back and examines my face once again, then, with a beautiful smile, he gets up and goes to his lounge.

I let out a huge breath that I didn’t know I was holding, and try to dismiss the fact that now I feel cold, that I want to grab his hand and pull him back, make him straddle me, explore every inch of hi-- But I can’t do that. I won’t.

As he’s about to enter his lounge, a gorgeous, tall, brunette woman stops him. She can’t be older than 25, but I can’t be sure now, can I? She can be 18 as well.

Anyway, she grabs his arm and leans over to whisper something in his ear, and he whispers something back, but his eyes are on me.

She starts brushing his arm seductively up and down and I involuntarily roll my eyes.

“Are you happy now?” I’m pulled out of my trance by Martin’s voice, which came out annoyed, and I’m hella confused as to why the Hell is he the annoyed one, but I’m also grateful that he helped me out of Satan’s invisible grip.

“Meaning?” I asked as if I have no clue what he was talking about, but my traitorous eyes go back to Satan, -not allowing me to lie to Martin, or myself for that matter-, and whose hand is placed on her lower back while leading her somewhere.

Am I jealous? No. Angry? No. Well, at least I hope the f**k not, but I am something. And not something good.

“You could’ve been her,” Martin said in a disapproving voice and shakes his head, clearly disappointed in me.

I need to find some normal friends.

“Yes. If he would’ve been at least 21, and not my student.” I let out another breath that I had no idea that I was holding when I see that they stop as they reach the dancefloor.

He’s not f*****g her. That’s the first thought that came into my mind, and it came with a sense of... relief.

Well, at least he’s not f*****g her ‘right now’.

And that’s my problem right there. I need to be realistic and face this problem of mine, because lying to myself and avoiding what the f**k ever feelings I’m feeling, won’t get me anywhere.

“Well, he doesn’t look or act like it,” Martin commented again, and I can’t help but laugh at the irritation in his voice.

He’s actually scolding me for not f*****g Satan.

But my laugh is cut short when they start dancing. When HE starts dancing.

His eyes lock with mine as he places his hands on the chick’s hips and turns her around in place, pulling her to him almost violently, gluing her back on his front.

I see the girl’s mouth forming an O in surprise, then bite her lip in delight.

“Holy s**t! The boy’s got moves!” Martin is damn right. He moves like Magic Mike, if not better.

His eyes never leave mine as he dances, and God is my witness that I’ve never seen anybody move like him.

The chick is only a puppet in his hands, and after the grimaces that she makes, I think she’s having an orgasm.

“I’m getting a hard-on.” And, Martin just confirmed what I was thinking about. But then again, I’m sure that anyone that sees him is about to orgasm.

“Lucky girl.” Ohh, for f***s sake! Can he stop with the damn comments? I know she’s lucky, anyone would be damn lucky to be in her place!!!!

I try to take my eyes off him, stop drooling like a damn high school girl, but his gaze is pulling me in, and his smirk tells me that in his mind he’s actually dancing with me, and each time he rolls his hips in that ‘Magic Mike’ way, he’s f*****g me. And if he f***s as good as he dances, well, f**k me dead...

“How the Hell? Do you see how he’s dancing? You have to let him f**k you, and as your new friend, I demand to know every detail.” Martin pleaded, and I want to tell him ‘NO’ or ‘f**k off’, but I can’t, because my voice is gone, Satan took it with his manly but sensual moves that do things to every fiber of my body and rises a multitude of feelings within me, making it very hard for me not to act on any of them. Pun intended.

Damn, this kid will be the death of me.

The f*****g dance is finally over, and the chick looks at him like he’s some kind of miracle, and that doesn’t feel--

I really need to sort my s**t out. I can’t be angry at a f*****g chick because she’s attracted by a walking God! A God that’s not even mine, and will never be!!!

She says something to him while her hand lingers on his big chest, making my blood a little hotter than usual, and as he still looks at me, he leans and says something back, and to my relief, her smile faded in an instant, but he doesn’t put much thought into it, or at all, because he walks away, leaving the girl standing and pouting, and I would lie if I would say that it didn’t feel good.

He sits back down on the couch with a satisfied expression on his face, and a sexy smirk, silently telling me that that’s one of the ways he would f**k me if I’d let him.

After a sip of whiskey, he returns to his favorite occupation, and by that I mean eye f*****g me.

“Really? You’re gonna pass that because of some idiotic rules?” Martin’s voice is like a small devil’s voice that keeps pushing me, tempting me to sin, but the angel, which is my conscience, argues with him and reminds me that it’s not as easy as they make it seem.

“Martin, you don’t understand. It’s easy to talk when you’re the one underage like you’ve been with your teacher, ok you weren’t underage but you were his student. I can’t. I have a conscience and rules of my own.” I explained, hoping that he’ll let me be.

“Maybe you should forget about that damn conscience and bend the rules a little. I know it’s not my place to give you advice, you know better, it’s your life. But I can see that you like him, the chemistry between you two is off the charts.” He’s starting to get on my nerves, and I want him to see that, so I force my eyes to look at Martin. Besides, I can’t look at Satan any further because I will do something that I’ll regret if I continue looking at the sin incarnate.

“You know what? You go f**k him and tell me how it was.” I snapped, and even if that didn’t sound so good to my ears, I had to say it to make him see my point of view, or something between the lines.

I really understand why the f**k is everyone so determined to convince me to sin.

“I don’t think that any of us...” He trailed off, gesturing around the Club,

“Has a chance. If you haven’t noticed, he has eyes only for you.” I can’t help but smile, because I did notice, and it does feel good.

“He’ll get over it!” I replied and take another sip. I’m tipsy.

“I doubt it,” Martin commented and shook his head as if I’m a small kid that doesn’t understand anything, and I realize that I can’t stay here anymore. I just can’t. It’s too much.

Hearing someone constantly telling me that it’s ok to do something that I know for damn sure that it’s not ok, annoys me to no end.

Because... I want to believe him, and that’s not good at all.

“You know what? It’s time for me to go home. I had fun, thanks for the evening.” I stand up, and Martin looks at me surprised.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked puzzled, and I feel my blood boiling in a second.

Why? I have no idea. Maybe the frustration and denial, the desire, the God know what the f**k, but I feel like I’m about to explode.

“Because I can’t and won’t listen to this. I know he’s f*****g hot. And not only that. He’s also smart and sweet. His stubbornness is annoyingly adorable, he’s f*****g gorgeous, but he’s also f*****g 17 or 18 and my student, and nobody seems to understand that! I’m his f*****g teacher, Martin. I’m supposed to TEACH him, not f**k him. For you is easy to talk, but for me not. I have a lot to lose, and I’m sure as f**k that he doesn’t need someone like me. Maybe he thinks so, but believe me, he doesn’t. f**k! Have a nice time!” I take a much-needed deep breath because I lost my breath while I got everything off my chest, and saying all of that out loud sounded even more illegal and immoral.

Without giving a chance to Martin to say anything else, I go.

I know that I shouldn’t have been so rude because it’s not his fault, and Satan does look like a God, but he doesn’t know me, doesn’t know that I could lose everything, and being a teacher is all I have, and I refuse to risk it all for a one night stand no matter how hot the guy is, because I’m more than certain that that’s what he wants, and even if he would want more, I can’t give him.

My past is still haunting me, and even if I would go past everything that’s obviously wrong, I can’t afford to get attached while that psychopath is after me.

That wouldn’t be illegal, it would be f*****g dangerous, and I refuse to put him, or anyone else for that matter, in harm’s way.

My eyes start burning with unshed tears while I stop a cab, and as soon as I enter the car, they start falling.

I want to scream until I can’t talk anymore, punch something, someone, preferably my tormentor.

God, maybe it would be for the best to just go to him and let him finish the job and beat me to death.

I know that I should be grateful that I got alive last time, but for what? Because this is not a f*****g life, this is not even survival. I’m just... breathing. And I’m f*****g tired... I’m so f*****g tired.

I get home, and between the rolling tears, I find my way to the whiskey bottle.

I don’t bother to find a glass because the purpose is not to have a nice time, so I drink straight from the bottle because the purpose is to forget about my petty existence and stop the waterfall of tears that wet my ‘tired of faking smiles’, face.

“JUST f*****g TAKE ME ALREADY!!!” I beg God and every deity that there is, but they won’t, I know they won’t, they are too cruel.

CASSIUS'S POINT OF VIEW

As the bottle empties, my legs stop supporting me, and I let myself fall to the ground, holding the bottle tight to my chest, not bothering to wipe the tears that refuse to stop falling.

Through my messy and hazy mind, my tormentor’s voice sounds loud and clear, telling me that without him I’m nobody, that I’m useless, that I’m at fault for being in this situation, and maybe he’s right.

I am a drunk and crying mess, a nobody that lives in a house that in less than six months I’ll have to leave behind again, and I’m uselessly praying that somehow, through some kind of miracle, I’ll wake up tomorrow and smile like I used to, hope like I used to, be happy like I used to, bring back the Cassius that died in that unfortunate day, but that can’t be done. That Cassius was long buried and we all know that what’s dead stays dead.

“I’m such a f*****g mess...” I mumble to myself and drink some more until all got dark and the nightmare continued in my dreams.

Please click like if you enjoy the story. It will help me a lot. Thank you.