The title read After...
I devoured a few pages, my eyes tracing every line, but something about it felt wrong. The story was captivating intense, even but it wasn't my kind of romance.
"This is a really good book," I murmured, turning another page before shutting it softly. "But I don't like toxic love stories."
Slavvy tilted his head, studying me with quiet interest. The faint library light caught in his dark brown eyes, making them gleam like secrets. "You seem like a girl who enjoys romance," he said, voice low—steady as a heartbeat, yet threaded with danger.
"Yeah, I do," I admitted, brushing my thumb over the book's edge. "But good romance."
"The boring one," he chuckled, lips curving into that infuriatingly confident smile.
I rolled my eyes, though my pulse betrayed me with a sharp, unsteady rhythm. "That's your perspective."
"I don't know…" he drawled, stepping closer, the faint scent of cologne—smoke, pine, and something darker—curling around me. "Because for our project, I wanted us to write a toxic love story."
I frowned and gave him a light punch to the stomach. It was playful, but his body didn't even flinch. Solid. Controlled.
"What was that for?" he asked, his gaze glinting like a blade under moonlight.
"Because of you, I didn't sleep. I had to sleep in class."
"How is that my fault?" His smirk deepened, voice smooth as silk.
"Your call was good and—" I froze, realizing what had just slipped out.
He raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What was that?"
"I didn't say anything. Now leave me alone."
I spun on my heel and marched toward the reception desk to stamp the book. I could feel his eyes on me—the kind of stare that strips away walls and leaves you bare.
"Didn't you say you don't like dark romance?" he murmured from behind, voice brushing against my spine like velvet.
"You disturbed me," I muttered, trying to sound irritated, though my heart thudded wildly.
"I didn't do anything," he said, holding up his hands with mock innocence, a devil's smile dancing on his lips.
"Whatever." I sighed, defeated.
The hallways buzzed with noise as we walked back. His silence wasn't peaceful—it was charged, heavy with something unspoken. Every time our arms brushed, a spark went off inside me, dangerous and thrilling.
"What are we supposed to do for our project, anyway?" I finally asked, trying to sound normal.
He smiled slightly. "Well, since you were sleeping the entire time…"
"Because of you—"
"Because of me," he repeated, leaning closer. His tone was teasing, but there was heat beneath it.
I looked away, pretending to be annoyed. "Mmmm… carry on."
He chuckled, that low, rich sound vibrating through my chest. "We've got three months. We're writing a novel—something original. The best one gets performed at the South African Theatre for the year-end play."
My eyes widened. "You're lying."
He smirked. "I'm not. And it's a big deal. Writers from that play get scouted. Scholarships. Interviews. Doors open."
I stared at him, speechless. My dream—right there, standing between his words.
"How many words?" I asked, excitement flickering beneath my nervousness.
"Fifty thousand or less," he said, his voice deep and calm, but his eyes were fire.
My mind whirled with ideas, but my heart couldn't seem to settle. Around Slavvy, nothing ever did.
As we moved down the corridor, I became aware of eyes following us. Whispers trailed behind like smoke.
"People are looking at us," I whispered, lowering my gaze.
He smiled—slow, dangerous, knowing. "That's their new hobby. Watching the new, beautiful girl steal their crush."
My cheeks burned. He said it so easily, like it was a fact, not a tease.
The bell rang for after school. I tried to escape before the chaos started, but the girls found me first.
"The whole school's talking," Bianca said, her tone sharp enough to cut.
"They're saying you're a slut," Trinity sneered. "An easy hook."
The words hit harder than I expected.
Ashly stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm. "Testimony, I've known Slavvy since fourth grade. He's not someone you play with. He'll be nice until he gets what he wants… then he'll crush you and leave."
Her warning clung to me like smoke.
I looked toward the courtyard—and there he was. Slavvy. Leaning against the gate, expression unreadable. Watching.
"If that's true," I whispered to myself, "why me?"
"Plus, if Sky finds out, she'll kill you," Bianca added.
And as if summoned by her name, Sky appeared.
"Hey, you!" she yelled, her voice slicing through the air.
I turned slowly. Sky's expression was all venom and beauty—like a snake draped in silk.
"What do you want, Sky?" Kim snapped before I could respond.
Sky's gaze flicked over her, dismissive. "I came to warn your little friend." Her eyes locked on me. "You better learn how things work here—or you'll regret the day your bastard mother gave birth to you."
The words burned. My hands clenched, but I said nothing. Not here. Not like this.
"Stay away from my boyfriend," she hissed.
"He's not your boyfriend, Sky," Kim shot back. "He hates you—and you know it."
Sky's lips trembled with fury, but she turned sharply, heels clicking like gunshots down the hall.
"This isn't over," she spat before disappearing.
Silence lingered. My friends looked at me with worry.
"You okay?" Zikhona asked softly.
"Yeah," I lied. "I'm fine."
But I wasn't. Not even close.
"I have to go—drama practice," I said quickly.
Ashly sighed. "Going home alone again…"
"I'm sorry," I whispered, forcing a smile.
As soon as I turned the corner, I stopped dead.
Slavvy was waiting leaning against his black car, arms folded, the sunset glinting off the sleek surface behind him. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show the edge of a tattoo I couldn't quite make out. His smile was slow, dangerous, familiar.
"You ready to go?" he asked, voice smooth, confident—like he already knew I would say yes.
I hesitated, but my body moved before my mind could catch up. I nodded.
We walked side by side in silence. His presence filled the space between us, warm and unsettling.
"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.
He glanced at me, his eyes unreadable. Then, with that same calm, dangerous tone, he said,
"Just making sure you're safe."
"Safe from what?"
He smiled faintly, eyes darkening. "From everything."
And as the car door clicked shut behind me, I realized
whatever this was, I was already in too deep.