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Death Incoming.

"What are you?" I asked looking at the handsome man in front of me, watching in fascination as his eyes shone bright red. "What am I?" He released with a throaty chuckle that made my stomach swirl. He took one step closer and my heart pounced. He was too close, and too warm. He lifted a finger and ran it down the side of my face before taking a soft grip on my jaw. My brows furrowed from how warm his hands were. But that went down the drain when he leaned closer and whispered into my ear, my body shivering from the contact of his lips on my lobe. "Darling, I am hell." ******** Simple, innocent, bubbly. . . Its just like calling the name: Anastasia Rhodes. Being a literal ray of sunshine, Anastasia has always lived up to others expectations, no matter what it costs. What do they say again? Behind every smile there is a story? Yes, that. Well, there is a story actually, a very rough one. It was one that made Anastasia crave for something nobody wants. In the dark . . . At the edge of a cliff. . . Alone with the night breeze . . . "I just want to die." And you know what they say, 'be careful what you wish for.' Because one thing Death is good at keeping, is a promise.

Mae_17 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
3 Chs

Cold Space.

Anastasia.

"Fascinating?" Vicky blurted absentmindedly scrolling through her social media page as we walked. "The zombie's face is fascinating. No, you need help." She said bumping shoulders with me and then started making gagging zombie sounds.

I covered my mouth as I giggled and shook my head at her silliness. We managed to make it out alive, through the heavy mass of history majors like us.

"You're the one that needs help though," I said as I handed her the notes I took from Mr. Graham's lecture earlier this morning. "You don't understand a thing that he does."

She knew who I was talking about even without looking at the notes. She groaned loudly before nicely snatching the book from my hand.

"He makes me not want to understand a thing," She started complaining right away as she shoved the book into her handbag and started explaining vividly. "How come his class is always quiet and calm but the creepy shit he spills doesn't make any sense? My brain just dislocates every time he opens his mouth and my sanity slips away completely when he talks about the sorority-"

"Sovereignty," I corrected.

"The sovereignty of angels and how they have powerful - protective shit and all." She blabbered.

I just smiled at her while she kept on complaining, I mean, Mr. Graham doesn't ever make any sense but none of us have ever failed his class either. The notes I take in his class are extremely helpful because once you go over them, everything just unravels instantly, like noodles in boiling water.

I took out my car keys from my pocket when I spotted my car as we reached the parking lot, and in the middle of Vicky's mini tantrum, her phone went off, thankfully cutting her off.

She muttered curses under her breath as she saw the person interrupting her rant.

"What is it, Max?" She snapped as soon as she picked up, obviously on the edge and ready to take it out on him.

But still, she's going to apologize for snapping at him even though he doesn't mind when she yells or snaps at him. He's so whipped and it's so obvious that I keep wondering if Victoria is playing dumb or not because she is not that slow.

"I'm sorry, I'm not really in a good mood." She mumbled running her fingers down her hair.

See?

I don't even blame Maximo for being so mushy for her. I mean, Vicky is tall, well, 5'6 counts as tall too and she also has her black hair laid in a neat blunt bob haircut, making her look ten times cool and badass. She's also so calm and attentive, always a step ahead of all of us, and the one that is most likely to point out the important stuff we might miss out on in a serious conversation or assignment, even though she is a bit crazy at times. Not-so-secretly though, sometimes, you'd catch him staring at her like he is ready to take all the risks, especially when she laughs, her slanted monolids give little space for her dark brown orbs to twinkle.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say we were all in love with Victoria Chang.

"Um, Stacey was going to give me a ride but I'll come with you if you buy me lunch." She quirked, with a smile already clouding her face as she looked at me mischievously.

I guess he was offering to give her a ride home again.

"Okay, I'll meet you at the other gate in five." She said before drowning her phone into her bag. "Max says bye and thank you for the notes. Bye, see you tomorrow!"

She rushed out and kissed my cheeks before running in the opposite direction.

I probably should've been offended that she ditched me this easily for food, but, I'm not.

I shook my head and turned around to get to my car only to bump into a masculine figure that was right behind me.

A playful scowl etched my face when I saw Sebastian's familiar face.

"Try harder and I might take you seriously." He teased snatching my car keys from my hand and started trekking to my car.

"You are stupid." I retorted lamely.

I happily walked over to the passenger seat and plopped in, happy that I wasn't going to drive.

Sebastian Fletcher has been my friend since high school and he's 23, a year older than me. People who don't know him label him as a complete 'butthole' but that's far from it. He's acceptable and considerate, even though he's the most serious one in our friend group. It is true though, that he gets riled up easily, so everyone just stays out of his way. He has forest-green eyes that go well with his black hair. He's 6'4 and he enjoys bothering me.

"You're hijacking my car." I pointed out needlessly as I put on my seat belt.

He scoffed and started the car.

"As if you aren't glad."

A light laugh slipped past my lips as we took off.

This is a very normal 'thing' between him and me and there is also a normal routine whenever Seb drives me. Like now, our favorite radio station was playing softly while he talked about irrelevant things on our way to Tazas Caliente.

Our favorite coffee shop. We go there almost every day and drink a cup or two of coffee as we reminisce about some past experiences or just study - like the nerds we are. We hang out in the heavenly warm shop until Lucas, his brother, brings him his car and then they go home together.

Halfway into the drive, silence fell into the car and by the time we arrived at the coffee shop, I was already drowsy and ready to doze off.

"You're such a slug," he said as he got out of the car. I just groaned and begrudgingly took off the seatbelt and got out of the car too.

I walked behind Seb with a yawn and slipped inside the coffee shop immediately after him, wanting to feel the usual welcoming warmness and coffee scent that made the whole place feel cozy.

However, my yawn was cut out immediately after I set foot into the shop. My eyes widened as I looked up at Sebastian, only to find him looking down at me with the same expression.

My surprise morphed into confusion, I mean, who wouldn't be confused if they stepped into a coffee shop and were met by a whiff of chilly air?

No, I'm not talking about the chill of an air conditioner, I'm talking about literal chills, like taking the first step outside - into the snow of a wonderful Christmas morning. I had goosebumps running down my arm and it felt like the cold air was traveling in sequence down my whole body.

"Why is it cold?" I asked in confusion, but a familiar voice chipped in before Seb could answer.

"That must be because our heater is broken, we were just having it fixed." Mrs. Gunner intercepted me with a smile as big as her heart as she leaned in and hugged me.

Mrs. Gunner was a lady who was in her late sixties. I've known her for almost four years and she's like a grandmother to me. Whenever I had problems - which is almost every day - I always come to her shop at night and help her out and then she bakes me the best cookies and serves them warm, up until the last bite. Her hair is always tamed in a neat, short afro and her caramel skin almost doesn't look like hers from how healthy and shiny it looks. One thing that always keeps me amazed with her though, is her icy blue eyes. So beautiful yet unnatural.

"Oh," I said, managing a grin while I returned the hug. "But it's not even this cold out-" I started to say but she cut me off with a tut.

"Why don't you two take a seat and I'll be back with your usual servings, hmm?" She said and without waiting for a response, she headed back to the kitchen.

Sebastian was already eager to sit down and start nibbling down the sour treats Mrs. Gunner left on our table, meanwhile, I shook slightly as a spine-traveling shudder escaped my lips. This made me look around, somehow just noticing that there was nobody in the shop.

"It's early, why is nobody here?" I muttered the question to myself, slowly sitting down and scanning the place with my eyes.

However, I was wrong, there was one person inside the coffee shop. From a table beside us, sat a man.

How did I miss him? He was seated right there, besides our table.

He was wearing a black hoodie, with the hood off. There was a thick book in front of him that he had pressed down with one hand on the table, his eyes down as he read.

He had his hair plaited down in neat cornrows which rested down his hood-clad shoulders.

I don't think I've ever been immersed in a person at first sight that I had to scrutinize everything about them, until this guy.

I've looked at him long enough to see that between his thumb and index finger, there was a pretty noticeable coffin tattooed unto his honey-brown skin and there was the same one behind his ear. And there was a weirdly accurate skull ring on his middle finger.

Sebastian was talking to me but I would be lying if I said I'd heard a word he said. It was as if my mind was blocked and I was being forced to concentrate on this man.

He was at least 25 years old, he couldn't be older than that.

Mrs. Gunner suddenly appeared in front of him and dropped a glass of milkshake rather loudly on his desk which made him look up at her. Slowly, a shallow hole appeared on his cheek, letting me know he was smiling at her.

But when I looked at her, she was giving him some sort of warning look, like she wanted him to stop something - her hand still wrapped around the glass.

It was none of my business but still, I was confused why she was glaring at a random smiling person.

So I shifted my eyes to look back at him, but instead of his side profile, I was met by a pair of hazel eyes that were scattered with gold flecks.

It felt like a bucket of shaved ice emptied into my system, like a chilled room.

I was now assured that he wasn't smiling at Mrs. Gunner from the smirk that hung on his lips. His face was like a customized object, too perfect. But that wasn't what made my eyes almost pop out of their veins, it was the way he poked his cheek with his tongue and then parted his lips, it was his deep yet chill voice that shot mixed feelings down my spine when he said to me;

"Hello."