Kissing Paul Slater Competition response.
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that, when Jesse didn't show up in my room for a week, it was my
fault. I'd told him about the whole shifting lessons thing with Paul.
Never a good subject to bring up with your easily-angered Latino
hottie. I got all defensive of Paul's motives - can you BELIEVE
that??? - and Jesse dematerialized.
Just like that.
I had to say, I thought he'd be back. I thought he'd come back five minutes late, sweep me into his arms, gaze down at me with his dark, loving eyes and whisper Spanish into my hair, apologizing for flying off the handle. I truly thought that he'd be straight back to say how wrong he'd been to yell at me.
But he wasn't.
And I couldn't understand why.
As that night progressed, a dull dread claimed me subtly.
And each day, for the next week, it intensified to a full-blown fear that overwhelmed me. Jesse had left...he was gone...he didn't love me anymore? Was that it? Had he moved on? Had Paul exorcised him?
No. I would have felt it if Paul had done anything like that. I almost hoped that Paul was to blame. I needed to accuse someone of Jesse's sudden vanishing trick. Someone other than me, that is.
But I knew...I was at fault. Jesse was gone, because I'd made him angry.
And now, I was scared beyond that time when his skeleton had been found. I was terrified. My mind felt delicate and easily breakable. Diseased with paranoia.
So, you know, NOT helping things along when Paul showed up in my bedroom on Friday night.
Seriously. I was just sitting on my window seat, willing Jesse to be there, when Paul - without KNOCKING - walked through the doorway. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and a deadly chill washed over my body, like I'd been thrown into a pool of ice...
'W-what are you doing here?' I stammered out, going to stand up, but he moved forward and I was frozen in my seating position. Paul...he was here...did he KNOW where Jesse was?
I couldn't give him the satisfaction of asking. Then he'd know he'd left. Then he'd gloat. And by God, I couldn't handle that at the moment...I felt like I would shatter with a mere breath.
He smirked, and more dark, creeping tingles shot across my skin. I felt cold. I didn't know why, but I did. Maybe because I knew - somehow - what was going to happen. 'I'm here to...say hi,' he shrugged. 'Haven't seen you around school. Or your last lesson.'
I swallowed, knowing perfectly well that he was taking slow, definite steps towards the window seat - me. 'I - ' I began, but a dryness so severe suddenly scraped my throat. I tried swallowing again to moisten my mouth, but even my tongue felt parched. I found a voice somewhere within me. 'I . . . I've been busy, and I - ' I cut off as I realized he was now standing over me. Seriously. You try having a six foot something hottie with dark intentions stand over you and NOT be intimidated.
'I'm not actually feeling too well,' I babbled, 'It's a miracle that my mum let you in, because she knows that this, um, cough is totally contagious, and you know, coughs suck so you don't want it or - ' I stopped again, as my eyes fell on his. And I was trapped. In a nightmare, it seemed. No, a blizzard. Everything just got ten times colder...Ice trails burnt coldly over my skin, and I kind of gasped.
I saw Paul smirk...did he know what he was doing to me? Was he...MAKING this happen?
Hastily, I tried standing up, but Paul hand came on my shoulder, and he forced me back down. I kind of crumpled beneath the power of his hand, and only just suppressed a potentially humiliating squeak. Seriously, I was FRAGILE at the moment. Why did he have to come in here, all hot and angry and icy, and....well, BE HERE???
'Well, Suze...you missed your lesson. What can I say? We'll have to catch up now...I had something extra special planned,' his tone tornadoed around me, and I felt my mind go dizzy with dread. Jesse wasn't here...and Paul was...that was NEVER good...
'Paul, I really don't feel well,' I said honestly, 'Can you please leave - '
'No,' he said firmly. His hair fell over his forehead. His eyes, they looked so...determined.
I swallowed hard again, and this time, I managed to stand and scuttle away from the window seat to - not one of my BRIGHTEST ideas - by my bed. What? I was OUT OF IT, OKAY???
'I'm serious,' I spluttered, 'I - '
'And I'm not?' he asked, with raised eyebrows. I went to reply, but again, he stepped forward with a slow, dark and foreboding confidence that made my knees feel like they were going to buckle.
And Jesse wasn't here to save me this time...
My world swam and my breath quickened. I backed away, until I could back away no further, because the wall impeded my fearful retreat. Stupid wall...betray me why don't you, huh? Too late.
He then stood right over me. 'Oh yeah...something really important we didn't get to do...wouldn't want you to miss that,' he said, his eyes starting to dance with something...animalistic. It scared me. I don't scare easily, but chuck Paul Slater in the room and you've got me feeling faint all right. And when his hand came to my bare arm, my nervous system just about imploded. It was warm, I knew that somewhere...but it felt colder than dry ice...with about the same affect.
Paul...I saw something in his eyes. That look, I recognized it from a single moment. And suffice it to say that it was a moment I hoped he'd never try again. Looks like my chips were down, though. Because the next thing he did, was shove me against the wall with his body. I gasped - definite and sharp that time. No, no, NO. This wasn't happening. Not after Jesse ran out, I couldn't DO this. Not with Paul, not with anyone! Didn't he care? That I was really hurting, and scared at the moment? Sucky as it is to admit, yeah...
No, he didn't.
Because the next moment, his forehead was leaning against mine, and then he pressed his mouth over my own and was kissing me.
With passion...abandon...danger, demand, fury, dark jealousy. It scared me, how angry he seemed to be. Like it was October, and this was a Christmas present he couldn't seem to wait for, so he killed all the elves and Santa Claws to get to it early...
I'm not saying that I didn't fight. No, I thrashed about. I protested. I could NOT be kissed. I was feeling pain, and kisses couldn't just be stolen so selfishly from me. I wasn't in the right state of mind to be fighting the battle with all my heart, either...
His hand netted in my hair, and his knee pressed between my own. I was trying to catch my breath to stay, 'stop it!' but he wasn't allowing that...this was totally for his benefit. It was a selfish kiss that he seemed to need...and he didn't care about response...
Well, maybe he did.
'Come on, Suze?' he grinned, as he began on my neck. I sucked in sharply. 'Paul,' don't,' I pleaded, 'Not now, I -'
'Now,' he insisted shortly, as if he was commanding.
Jesse wasn't coming. I knew he wasn't. He was gone, and would come back in his own sweet time when it would be too late, and the damage would have been done. Love, he claimed? GREAT JOB, Jesse. Really -
And I snapped.
My hands gripped Paul's arms suddenly, as a turbulent flood of fury and despair almost knocked me over. I pushed him away from me, and - trapped in the heat of the moment, and at the same time, drowning helplessly in the icy pools of his eyes – I seized handfuls of his shirt in my fists, and pushed him down against my mattress...
I felt possessed...by something between revenge, and pain.
Maybe I WAS possessed. When I fell on top of him, and felt him grin in amusement against my lips. Maybe I was possessed when I let him roll me over, and press me into the bed, kissing me with now, more passion than I had ever known. Maybe I was possessed when his lips left icy, yet fiery trails down my skin and on my neck.
Maybe I was possessed...when Jesse materialized beside us, and I didn't care anymore...
Ha . . . my response to the "Kissing Paul Slater" competition on the Meg Cabot site that, um, I started. Mine isn't half as good as some of the ones up there, you should seriously check them ?t=4027&start=0
Well? REVIEW. I know it's not that good . . . but I wrote it while I had writer's block still, and considering that, well, I don't hate it. Btw – look forward to Delilah posting hers up here soon, hopefully. Her's was AWESOME! As were Hayley's . . . and . . . man, they were ALL good, okay?
Ha, my bad, I spelt "possessed" wrong when I first uploaded . . . forgive me? I was TIRED. Still am. Baaaaah . . .