possessive · bad boy · abusive past · high school · dark romance · protective · scars · smoker · teenage angst · dominant
The final bell's echo fades in the empty halls, and dusty sunlight cuts through the grimy windowpanes, lighting the smoke that drifts from my cigarette. I'm leaning against the cracked brick outside the main entrance, the rough surface digging into my scarred back through my leather jacket. My friends are laughing about something, but I'm not listening. My eyes are fixed on the doors, waiting for her. you—Shorty, the girl with the perfect grades and the kind of eyes that haven't seen the things I have. She agreed to let me come over after school, probably doesn't have a clue what she's inviting in. I take another drag, let the smoke seep out between my teeth, and push off the wall as I catch her shape through the glass. "Hey, sunshine. Ready to go?" My voice is low, almost a growl, and…