Grey_The Infatuation

by Allison White

  I adore the way he moves and the way I take him in, moving my hips with him too—it’s like we were made just to do this. He knows my body; he knows how deep to go. He knows to play with my breasts. He knows how to nibble on my ear and how to suck on my neck, forever marking me with his touch. He just knows me, and he knows how to make me feel like the most loved girl in the world.

  “Grey, it—oh my—keep doing that.” I connect my hips with his, and he grips my waist and kisses me, hard. The kiss is deep, passionate, all consuming. It steals my breath away. My face heats as he cups my face and kisses me so hard, I taste blood. Whether it is his or mine, I have no idea. But the strong taste of metal and his bittersweet tongue is too much to bear.

  “You feel so—so fucking good,” he stammers deeply and grunts as he rocks his length in me, swirling his hips before plunging back into me.

  Tears prick my eyes because of how euphoric this feels, and my mind fills with so much emotion, too much emotion. Thoughts run wild, and guilt runs deep within me. He is too good for me, way too good. I arch my back and moan his name as he places warm, wet kisses up the length of my neck.

  “Grey, I—I…” I stutter.

  “I love you too, baby,” he whispers, and I can feel him smile happily against my skin.

  “But I—” I whisper.

  “Shhh,” he whispers and picks my legs up, hitting that certain spot all too well. All too perfectly. I choke on my words and instead moan his name and nod frantically. I pull on his hair, and he leans back and collides his sweet, soft lips onto mine.

  Again, I feel my stomach prick with built-up pleasure. I breathe heavily and out of short intakes; he groans and swallows my moans with his lips. I grind my hips into his, and he slaps my thigh and picks me up and slams into me over and over and over again—it is too much. I feel myself explode as I feel him do the same. I open my mouth to breathe, to fill my chest with air, but I can’t. I let out a strangled scream of his name and dig my finger deep into his skin. So deep, I feel his blood crease into my fingernails.

  This is the best I have ever felt, so blissful and in the clouds. I’m not in my body anymore. I watch myself smile as he peppers my marked skin with his kisses. I am sucked back to reality when he pulls out of me and falls beside me. Our attempts to catch our breath fill the air, and I smile contentedly as he plays with my curly hair. I lift my leg and lay it against his waist; he pulls me closer.

  I listen to his heartbeat thrum beneath his skin and gently dance my fingers up and down his chest. Silence twinkles in the air, but I can clearly hear his smile.

  “What were you going to say?” he breathes after a long while of silence.

  “Hmmm?” I draw my fingertips across one of his tattoos and hum a random song.

  I swear I hear him breathe, almost like purr, in bliss. “Earlier. You were saying something?”

  “Oh…” I frown and look up at him. I stare into his pure, black eyes and shrug, letting a smile slip across my lips. “Just that I love you.”

  He looks at me for three beats and then grins and curls his finger in a “come here” motion. I scramble up and lean my chin on my elbow that rests on his chest. He tips my head back and pulls my face a mere hair between us. I hold my breath, feeling my heart drum rapidly inside my chest. “There are no words to describe how much I love you,” he whispers. I smile against his lips before letting my mouth open and whispering back—

  “And there isn’t enough time in the world to express how much I love you.”

  Chapter Fifty

  Grey

  “This is my house. I have to defend it.”

  I reach over Liv’s curled up body against mine and shut off the TV, displaying the movie Home Alone. I find it funny how much she wanted to watch the movie, but she’s knocked out like a light. She fell asleep about twenty minutes into the movie.

  She looks so beautiful. So perfect. So…mine. I stare at her and gently brush a piece of her curly hair out of the way. Her gorgeous pink lips are pursed, and her little tongue is peeking out. Her nose is scrunched up as she absentmindedly rubs her eyes. She turns, and I stare at her bare thighs, my shirt doing nothing to cover her.

  I lean forward and gently kiss her warm skin while running the tip of my fingers up and down her body, my hand dipping into every beautiful curve. And I have the strongest urge to wake her up just to kiss her—all of her.

  Instead, I give a wicked smile and kiss her shoulder. I place the blanket over her small body. As I stare down at her and twirl a piece of her soft, curly hair, I frown. Ever since this morning, she’s been acting…strange. Crying and doubting us. I don’t know if her period is coming up ridiculously fast or it’s her birth control pills messing with her emotions, but I intend to find out.

  Before I can get heated and wake my sleeping beauty to hound her with questions and tell me what she’s thinking, I stand and look back at her once more. I reluctantly leave her. It’s taking everything in me to not wake her up and make love to her. She just looks so cute and—Jesus, are you even a man anymore? I swear, I question my manhood every day I fall more and more in love with this girl.

  I snap out of it before I can bump into a wall.

  I can still remember her jolting out of one of her terrible nightmares. She was so scared to find a strange guy in the same room as her. I can bet everything I have that she’d never been alone with a guy unless it was a male cousin or an uncle. She was so wide-eyed and innocent, a little rude, but I was worse when it came to being rude. I was such an asshole. And I still am, but I’ve lightened up on her. But I think she can handle it by now.

  I didn’t know she’d become so important in my life. She was like a random beam of light that I didn’t know I needed or even wanted. I thought she’d just be some innocent little girl I could bother, because man, did I love the reaction I got out of her. Every time she screamed my name in shock or smiled, blushing when she thought I wasn’t looking, I could feel her little hands break off a layer of my hardened heart. She broke the wall I put up after Rose, and she let herself in. And I thank whatever mysterious force is around that she didn’t just run away. She ran in my direction like the crazy girl she is. My crazy girl.

  When I enter our bedroom and search through her duffel bag, it hits me just how crazy I am for invading her privacy. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should not be doing this. But I have to find out what’s wrong with her. I found out how she felt about me in that little diary of hers; maybe she’s been writing down her feelings recently. Hopefully. I just want to know what exactly I’m doing wrong, so I can fix it. I can’t have her fucking crying when I kiss her. How fucked up is that?

  I stumble upon a stack of framed pictures. I pick up one of the photos. A laugh slips out of my mouth when I examine the picture. It’s of her, her parents, and her little brother sitting on a boat, all smiling happily at the picture, a fish on the hook in little Liv’s hand. She is so cute. Her big bright, blue eyes peer into my soul. My heart warms as I look at her pigtails and her little girl scout outfit. How fucking cute is she? And she still is.

  “Adorable,” I croon and put the picture back. I move to pick up another one when I spot what I’m looking for. Liv’s notebook. I pick it up, and for some strange reason, my heart begins racing. I know I shouldn’t open it and invade her privacy, but I just need to know.

  I sit on the bed and open the book.

  Neat, cursive letters meet my eyes, and I nearly bask in her cuteness. Dude, it’s just writing. Calm down. Fuck. I think I love her too much…nah.

  Instead of reading the back like I did last time, curious as to what she felt when first meeting me, I flip to the very front. I begin reading.

  Day one of Project Grey:

  I am Olivia Westerfield, and I will be examining a patient with bipolar disorder for the duration of this semester. This will be completed with journal entries and personal experiences with said patient. Throughout this experiment, I will be thoroughly figuring out the inner works of the patie
nt’s peculiar actions and the rooted reasons behind them. This will be to answer the question we humans are so desperate to answer: What makes us tick and why? Is there are larger reason than we have been told? What we’ve discovered?

  I have been examining the patient for the past few days, and already he has found my Achilles heel, which I find both interesting and frightening. I will find his and see how far I can twist and prod it until I am a master and am able to learn more about this strange man.

  What…the fuck is this?

  I frantically flip to a random page.

  Day ten of Project Grey:

  I am growing attached. Is this because he wants to start fresh? Become a better man? Or because his last love was a failure? I will let him think that I have fallen for him too. I only pray I don’t end up like this Rose character. I believe she means much more than he leads me to believe. Maybe I can contact her…I will see what I can find on her. Maybe even get an interview with her? For now, I will keep up this ploy of feelings I supposedly have for him. It almost makes me feel sad, but I know this is for the greater good. He can be cracked from the inside out.

  Another page.

  Day thirty-five of Project Grey:

  Not getting attached to him is harder than I thought it would be. He’s roped me into actually feeling, caring for him. How? I have no idea. But Rose fell for him, too. Why, though? I am determined to find out the reason. Is it that we were both too kind and were blind to his vile nature? I predict it’s something special about him. A tick in his psyche, maybe? I won’t stop until I have the exact, precise answer. In the meantime, wish me luck. This will all be over soon. Just have to get a little closer. Scratch that—a lot closer.

  I let the book fall to the ground and stare at the floor while on the inside, an inferno has been sparked and is heating me beyond comprehension. This—she has been playing me? Me? Not the other way—but I love her. I can’t. I need to breathe. I need to—fuck! I can’t breathe. I think I’m having a panic attack. None of this makes fucking sense! I can’t—she loves me. Doesn’t she? Of course she doesn’t, you fucking dumbass. I just read that she doesn’t give a single fuck about me! I’m just her fucking project! An experiment! But I just asked her—we’re living together!

  And suddenly, a switch that controls everything I have been holding back for that girl I thought was the love of my life, flips on. And I see red. Absolute, pure fucking red.

  I pick up the duffel back and throw it at the wall. Glass from the picture frames shatters against the wall, and I hear a small gasp I would have swooned over. But now, I want to hear her sob and cry and scream. I want her to feel what I am feeling—absolute and utter pain.

  “Grey, what’s wrong?” Her voice is small as her hand touches my shoulder. I nearly vomit at the touch I usually melted under. I grab her frail wrists and push them away. She stumbles back, appearing hurt. Good. She should look that way. “What—”

  “So I’m just a fucking project to you?” I point to the book, and she slowly looks down at it. I see the life drain from her eyes and those little gears shift in her head. She’s calculating ways she can get out of this. Preparing soothing, intellectual words that would calm me down, maybe even forgive her. Boy, is she something else. “You fucking lied to me! You were just fucking using me!”

  “Grey, please calm down. It isn’t what you think—” She steps toward me with her hands raised. Like I’m going to hurt her if I flip out. Like I’m a monster. Me! It’s the other fucking way around, Liv. I’m not the monster here. She is! I never saw this coming. Never have I ever thought this sweet girl could ever hurt anyone the way she has hurt me.

  “Fuck that!” I grip my hair and pace around. I need to take a deep breath or I will flip my shit. Completely. I grip my nose bridge before looming over her, my face and body heated. “Is that why you were so nosy? Pushing for more about my past? About Rose? About everything? Is that why you weren’t as freaked out or upset when I told you? Because you wanted to stick around and fuck with my mind? How fucking—who the fuck are you?” I scream and punch the wall.

  She screams and jumps back. She looks like a scared little deer, when really, she’s a big fucking snake that slithers in the grass, waiting, watching, preying. She may look little and cute between the blades of green, but once she sees you, she sinks her teeth into you, spreading her fucking venom to kill you.

  I can’t believe this. Someone pinch me. I want to wake up. Let this be a fucking joke. She can’t—I can’t form a single fucking thought. I’m shaking. I’m actually fucking shaking!

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she cries, and I glare at her tears. I would normally wrap my arms around her and whisper sweet nothings to her until she has that beautiful fucking smile on her face. But now…I feel sick to my stomach, and I want to watch her cry until she is deserted and left with a hollow feeling, similar to the one that sits in my own fucking chest.

  “And yet…you did.” We’ve said this before, only switched around.

  She flinches.

  “All those times I thought I really hurt you, you were writing them down and analyzing them. You were analyzing me! You! Fuck! Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I grab a nearby standing lamp and throw it against the floor. I need to take my anger out or I will hurt her. I want to kill myself just thinking about doing that to her, but she has awoken a part of me I thought I buried a long time ago.

  “I was going to tell you once I was done,” she says, her voice broken. “B-but I—I fell in love with you, Grey. I didn’t want you to leave me.”

  Wow. I was worried she’d leave me for something in the past, yet here she is begging me to stay after she’s done something to me in the fucking present. And here I thought I loved this girl. Fucking wrong!

  “You loved me?” I snap, leaning against a wall and grabbing my hair until my scalp burns. “You didn’t fucking love me. You don’t do something like this to someone you love! I loved you! How could you do this to me? How—h-how?” Fuck! I’m crying now. I wipe them away and hunch over. I need to catch my breath, or I will pass out.

  She walks over to me, and I straighten myself and glare at her. She flinches at my dark eyes, but she gets closer and closer, as if testing her boundaries. I swear if she gets any fucking closer…She stops a few inches away from me and shakes her head, her tears staining her flushed cheeks.

  “I love you, I really do. More than I have ever loved anyone in my entire life—”

  I laugh dryly and spit, “Like you loved Jonah? You couldn’t even fucking save him. And you killed me when I read what I just did. With your track record, I’d stop fucking loving people.” She shudders visibly. I’ve hit her where it hurts most. Good. It’s how I gut the people who have hurt me.

  I’m getting out of here. This isn’t the girl I love. This is a monster in her clothes. My fucking clothes, actually. But she can keep them. It’ll be her only memory of me because I’m never going to see her again. It’s making me physically sick to even look at her right now.

  “Get the fuck out of my way.” I brush past her, but she steals my move and grabs my hands, pulling me back into her chest. “Let go of me, Liv,” I say in a calm tone, though I am literally fuming.

  “No,” she says like the stubborn girl she is. “Not until you let me talk. Grey, I seriously didn’t mean to fall for you. At the time, I despised you. You had just brought up the accident and made a joke of it, and Ms. James offered me the chance to apply for the program. I had to make something dealing with a mental disease to get in. And you—you—” She looks away because she knows it’s fucked up.

  I sneer at her and flip my hands so I’m clutching her. She whines and looks up at me like I am a great big beast. “And I was just there, bipolar disorder and all. Your perfect fucking target, huh? Well, I won’t be your goddamn bullseye any fucking more. Out of my way!” I push her, and she stumbles back.

  “No!” She grabs my hands again.

  She really doesn’t get it, huh?

&nb
sp; I whirl around and push her against the wall. I drive my fist through the wall. Literally. But I feel nothing, as I have for years. But then she came along, and I felt every fucking emotion there is in the world. And I’m feeling one of them right now—rage.

  She screams, and I press into her and point a finger at her.

  “Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t even fucking utter my name. Because we are fucking done. I don’t want to see you ever again, and if I do…I will ruin you like you have ruined me, maybe even ten times worse. Scratch that. A million times worse. I fucking hate you, Olivia Westerfield.” I pull away and laugh through my burning tears.

  “Oh, yeah? And remember that time I left to ‘break things off’ with Diana? I did fuck her, and boy, was it the best sex of my life. Have fun with your next project.” Pushing her against the wall, I tear my eyes from hers and storm out of the room. Fuck this apartment. We were supposed to live together and be together forever and ride off into the sunset and all that bullshit, but that’s all it was—bullshit!

  As I hop into my car, I think to myself, I fell for the devil in flats. Fucking flats! I can’t believe I let myself fall for her. I’ve changed myself so much for her, only to find out she’s been playing me? Using me? Fuck that! I’ll go back to the old me. The real me. The one her mother would actually have a fucking heart attack because of.

  She wanted the middle ground, the grey, and she fucking got that. But she didn’t deserve it. She took advantage of it. Boy, is she fucking stupid. I’ll show everyone the fucking black and white. The worst of the fucking worst.

  THE END

  BEFORE YOU GO…

  DON’T MISS OUT!