Forbidden: A Steamy Paranormal Romance (Forbidden Book 1)

By Haru Ichiban

A promise of unbound carnal delights. That's what her sultry, proud (and well-endowed!) classmate Lei is to Sween. Yet it's not only lust, but the deepest tender feelings that tie her to this man.

Her carefree college days are full of laughter, but they hide a sinister reality: if Sween succeeded in making his heart hers, being branded a criminal and chased down by angels would only be the beginning of her problems. However, if only Lei loved her back, she would not mind breaking every law for him. No matter the consequences. Even if it meant living an unholy love while defying everyone and everything in Heaven... and everything she once stood for.

Forbidden: A Steamy Paranormal Romance is the first book in an epic saga of romance full of sweetness and erotism, plots with substance, smart heroines, manly and sensitive heroes, morally ambiguous main characters, a mysterious supernatural world, exciting adventure, detectives and lots of humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Haru Ichiban
• Release date: May 24, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463701027

Haru Ichiban

Writer, artist, doctor and English teacher, also expert at leading quadruple lives. I am pretty sure aliens dropped me here when I was born, but can't find direct evidence of that.I write so I can read the stories I'd like to read. As simple as that. I invent my stories with the heart, not the mind. You'll surely feel the "spark" in them, the life in the characters, the freedom that is hard to define with words. Because I really, really like to write. Writing what you like is so much fun, and you can clearly see it when the author enjoys themselves. That"spark" is what I seek everywhere, no matter how famous the writer is or how sharp their writing skills are.Why paranormal romance, erotic romance, detectives, mature young adult and romantic comedy? I would love to refer you to Stephen King's excellent prologue of Night Shift. When people asked him why did he write horror, he replied "Why do you assume I have a choice?"

Book preview

FORBIDDEN

a novel by

Haru Ichiban

Book 1 of the Forbidden series

Copyright © 2018 by Haru Ichiban. All rights reserved.

Published by Haru Ichiban at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Index

Dedication

Acknowledgment

Quote

Day 0: Prologue

Day 1: Me

Day 2: Her

Day 3: Them

Day 4: Argh

Day 5: Buggypop

Day 6: Play

Day 7: Catalyst

Day 8: Crossroad

Day 9: Him

Day 10: Downpour

Day 11: Dare

Day 12: Shopping

Day 13: Beach

Day 14: Countryside

Day 15: Us

Day 16: Fallen

Day 17: Kingdom of Angels

Day 18: Aftermath

Day 19: The Future

Epilogue

Author Sites

About Haru Ichiban

Excerpt from Forbidden: New Days

Dedication

To my beloved grandfather Pepe. Thank you for believing in me.

Acknowledgment

To Michi. Forbidden would have never grown wings without you.

Love me when I deserve it the least,

Because that's when I need it the most.

-Swedish proverb

Day 0

Prologue

Lei Synge-Sturmmond’s narration

It’s really late. I shouldn’t stay so long at college, researching with such intensity that I lose track of time.

I close the books I have been piling over my desk since this afternoon and return them to the shelves. Bidding goodbye to its library, my steps lead me out of the large building known as Law Academy and into the night.

It’s also really cold. But not because of some low temperature that would make one want to reach for the warmest coat.

I mean the cold that sends shivers down one’s spine.

I snug into my jacket in an attempt for it to shield me from this feeling. I tried, just in case, but I knew it wouldn’t work.

Really, what surrounds me is a perfect setup for a horror movie. The wind is blowing in short gusts, picking leaves from the ground and howling eerily into the empty streets. Now and then, I spot one or two individuals walking far away from me, hastening their pace.

This is not a night to be out. That’s what a voice inside my head is saying, despite the weather being not so bad, with okay temperature and no rain… But something strange is on and about. The streetlights give the evening a pale tinge that looks more ominous than reassuring.

Not to mention the moon…

I look up at the sky. It’s huge and shiny tonight, a complete circle that bathes everything in soft yellow iridescence. Together with the streetlamps, they tint the night so brightly it almost seems like it is receiving autumnal daylight.

Have you ever thought there are actually two moons?

One, the lifeless satellite we all see. Another, a living entity, a presence up in the sky. And this second moon seems to be watching us, looking at everything we do and judging it…

No, I am not making any sense. Shaking my head, I resume my walking with a hastened pace. Better return home as soon as possible.

Traversing the wide park where I have been contemplating the skies, I reach a narrow side street that connects to the road my living place lies at. It is no good idea to walk into dark alleyways, but this is a safe city in general. Of course, I wouldn’t bet my life on such statement.

However…

As I reach its other entrance, I feel it. Someone is watching me from the alley. With feral intensity. It is definitely not just a passerby; eyes are fixed on me like a predator on its target.

My first impulse is to run. But no… I have a better idea. If you look at a potential attacker, you disable the surprise strike and they may decide not to jump you. So, mustering up courage, I turn around, expecting to see a street gang with knives in their hands or a man in a hood holding a revolver to me.

But there’s nothing.

Nothing, except the pressure of that hard stare on my person.

Someone is looking at me.

But I can’t see them.

In the alley…

Only shadows.

I walk back, insecure steps, still facing the narrow passageway.

What is it! A supernatural being? A spirit of sorts?

Or… Am I just crazy?

Hands over my mouth, doing my best to avoid screaming in terror, I can’t help but bolt. What is it! What’s happening!

I must have sprinted across two blocks when I realize the presence is no longer after me. My pace slows down considerably but in no way below a run, until I reach home.

After glancing around and making sure nothing corporeal is stalking me, I open the entrance and jump in as fast as I can, locking it hastily again. Letting out a long, relieved sigh, I rest my forehead on the door’s hard, cold wood, fingers still holding the key.

What was what I felt! Was it like in the terror movies, and some dark being was out to hunt humans? The only thing I know is that next time I’m returning early while taking the long way home. No earthly power could make me walk into that alley again.

There have been so many strange things in my life as of late… Add this one to the pile. Maybe it is a good idea to start carrying a crucifix and some holy water. And garlic. No, not garlic, my dear Sandy hates it, and I don’t want to walk around smelling either. No… Nobody will look twice if I wear a cross pendant and have a bottle of water with me.

I’m really in the mood for a cup of coffee. Two minutes later, I sigh in relief as the aromatic beverage fills my nostrils with its scent and my mouth with its taste. As I finish it, my disposition is a whole lot better.

But shaking off a certain feeling from the back of my mind is proving to be impossible. This ominous sensation seems to be telling me that whatever that was…

I haven’t seen the last of it.

Day 1

Me

Sween Funew’s narration

My name is Sween Funew. Let me tell you about the guy I love. Uh, this is a bad way to begin a narration, but he is what I have in my mind most of the time. I love him so much… He’s good-looking, smart, has a shapely body, a lot of personality and charisma—

Hey! Move out of the way! Kindergarten time is over!

And obnoxious, rude, easily angered, disagreeable—

At six o’clock, kids should be in bed!

In a few words: a complete jerk.

Standing up from the seaside where I have been soaking up the last traces of sunlight for the day, I wipe the dry beach sand from my clothes. There’s a dull look in my eyes as the half of a spin places me face to face with Lei Synge-Sturmmond, the owner of both my heart and the inane words a few seconds ago.

Oh, and I didn’t mention the best part: He’s absolutely in love—but not with me.

His straight, shiny, ebony hair measures a couple inches long around all of his head, with the exception of two long locks at the sides of his face that kind of resemble horns, currently swaying to the light breeze as his deep black eyes glare at me, a killer hypnotic stare I feel trapped in whenever he’s not being a jerk like now. The dusk sun casts a golden overtone on his extremely pale, perfect skin, which under its spell resembles butter-colored satin. This is the only light in his whole figure, since he rarely wears anything but black. A fitted leather jacket with ribbed pads over its shoulders and forearms, a turtleneck, pants and boots; no other color is on him. We just finished class, but he’s always hurrying to change out of the obligatory clothing and into his favorite one, even though the male uniform does have lots of black in it.

Oh, I guess I should tell you something about me as well. Don't you hate this part, where you have to depict yourself? If you put excessive emphasis on your qualities, you come out as arrogant; if your attention falls on your shortcomings, you might seem dull, or worse, a loser. Well, I am Lei's classmate. I'm medium height, average build, and I have the kind of transparent features that change color value depending on the current light pattern. Right now, the setting sun makes both my hair and eyes look dark orange; on the other hand, my skin is always very light, with coloring that can be described as peaches and cream, a yellowish pink.

Though smarter than your average citizen, I have this juvenile air around me that makes a lot of people disregard this trait. To be honest, due to certain circumstances in my past, my emotional maturity is actually not what you’d expect for my age. Let’s just say the last time my emotional development and my biological years matched was when I turned ten years old. Speaking of feelings, I also tend to experience everything with much more intensity than the neighbor next door. It’s a common characteristic of my race. Which is my race? I’ll tell you later.

I’m also an Aquarian of the Uranus-dominant type and a Spring lady, which will make me appear quite manic in the eyes of many.

I don’t think Lei is of the opinion I’m lacking in the wit department, but he sure likes to make fun of my childishness.

You may ask why I love him… Well, that’s why I considered it was a bad way to begin a story. It’s not so easy to explain like this. Just take my word that Lei absolutely deserves all the affection I could ever offer him, despite his crappy attitude. Hopefully, I will be able to collect enough empiric evidence in the future.

Right now, idiot is what I would like to say to him, but we’re in a tense enough situation. I don’t want any more of his animosity.

What is it? You wasting time here when you could be with Dessande?

Yeah, Dessande Aviemore is Lei Synge-Sturmmond’s lover. Like all of her kind, she’s perfect beyond words, constituting a big reason why my task is so difficult.

He chuckles, his rich, soft voice rumbling in his throat. It’s still early for her visit.

That does not escape me, to some extent. Oh, from what I just said, are you thinking I’m trying to steal Lei from Dessande?

You’re absolutely right.

But wait, don’t judge me… If you knew what I am and what Dessande is—

Yeah, I would like to tell you, but at this point I’m sure you’ll say I’m delusional. You’ll present a swift and logical exposition about the nonexistent nature of things like angels, demons, vampires, ghosts and spirits, right? After all, there’s no scientific evidence supporting otherwise and many fakes pullulating the scanty information about them. So I’ll simply continue the narration as the normal girl I am supposed to be in Lei’s eyes. I’ll just say Dessande is a perfectly normal person like myself—for now. That’s how she’s supposed to look to everybody. That’s what Lei wants to believe too. Perhaps later, when you realize I’m different, you’ll be able to understand Dessande’s idiosyncrasy as well. Why do I want Lei and her separated.

Dessande’s routine in Lei’s eyes is well-known to me. She’ll pop up at his place at about ten in the evening. It is not until he’s free of obligations that he summons her, and there she stays for the rest of the night. Complying to each of Lei’s whims. Being a servant of his fertile sexual imagination. Oww, my jaw is so tense from just thinking about it, it hurts.

How do I know? Wait, wait, I’m no voyeur, though it is in my plans to spy if need be. I just know her kind, okay? They’re all alike.

However, it is not likely I’ll let it keep happening. I know I can overpower the ones like her, given time and the proper conditions. The less Lei meets her, the less attracted he will be.

Then why did you come tease me? You must feel really lonely, are my words.

A second of silence. I know I hit a nerve. I purposely did.

It’s fun to tease you.

I don’t think so. I’m sure you like me, at some level.

He winces. I like Miss Aviemore and you know it.

I try not to sigh. I do.

He begins taking his leave. I have a feeling he’s thinking of going to meet Dessande this early, since he seems idle enough—

I cringe as he trips and meets the mud on the ground close-up.

Dammit! he snarls. At his feet lies the culprit of his fall. A banana peel? What’s a banana peel doing here!

Shrugging, I get close and try to help him up.

Don’t bother! I can get up on my own!

Well, excuse me! I won’t do it again.

He glares at me.

Can I offer you a tissue, or will you be offended again? I ask, retrieving some from my bag.

Thanks… he grumbles, taking them from my hand rather harshly before wiping himself.

Nodding once, I tell him, You’re welcome.

Well, I’m going. You go back to kindergarten before the sun sets. He smirks.

I roll eyes. Sorry if I don’t meet your adult expectancies. But like it or not, we’re the same age.

Not same mental age. Bye Kitty.

My eyes are rolling a really steep hill here. Ready to leave my company, he makes a couple of steps—before a log drops from the tree he’s traversing under and hits him on the back.

Ouch! He falls to the floor again.

You okay? I run to his side and remove the slightly heavy branch across his frame.

Uh… he moans.

I would offer to help you up, but I don’t want you angry once more for it, I say, choking back my smirk.

You know, sometimes I think I’m cursed. No normal human could have this many accidents. It’s just not possible. He sits up, remaining in silence for a moment. Sometimes I’ve seen a little blond girl and a cat with some fur that goes beyond what the wildest imagination could conceive, looking through my windows at night.

I startle visibly. His sight is lost on the floor, so I hope he hasn’t noticed.

I thought I was just dreaming, but maybe they really are ghosts or evil spirits that haunt me. With how my life is, I’m open to any explanation.

After pausing for some seconds I sigh, eyes closed and palms up. You’re actually pretty lucky.

His eyebrows knit. What?

Well, all of those are minor accidents. Nothing more than a little pain in the ass. I blink. Maybe someone up there is keeping you safe from the real nasty things.

Bullshit, he says immediately in a low, growling tone.

Maybe so. But sometimes we don’t realize which the actual misfortunes are.

His eyes are fixed on mine. For all I know, you could very well be an evil spirit too.

I give him my most innocent stare while tilting my head. A kiddy girl like me?

Who knows, maybe you’re a really vicious vampire or something under all that girly pretense.

Mmm. I think for a moment. Well, I’ll definitely taste your neck anytime you want, Mister Synge-Sturmmond.

He blushes beet red. Eww! Don’t even joke about it!

A chuckle escapes my lips. Who says I’m joking?

S-stop that. Why are you flirting with me? I told you it’s Miss Aviemore I like.

After a sigh, I get a hold of his shoulder. Anyway, let’s go see the nurse at Academy to have your back checked.

He pulls away. I’m fine.

Fine my ass. That’s a really nasty log, and your back is so slender. Let’s check it out.

Hey! A scowl appears on his face. My back’s not slender.

Well, it is a stylized V. All of his body is kind of slight, but he does have broad shoulders, together with a nice, wide chest.

Really? Show me.

He starts taking off his coat for a second before looking at me, eyelids half-mast.

I smirk. Could have worked.

I’m going home, he announces, rearranging his clothes and walking away.

Idiot.

Mayii, I say under my breath once he gets out of earshot.

He’s heading home. I’ll just—

No.

She’s at my side, looking up at me. Lots of blond curls, halfway between golden and strawberry, are the mark for a pretty face with large viridian eyes and small nose and lips. Her big forehead is covered by thick, straight bangs, her body clad in an old-fashioned, dark green satin dress with a broad skirt, abundantly decorated with lace. Her age can be estimated at around six years old. She’s like a living porcelain doll.

Why?

I blink before answering. He’s starting to suspect things. He’s seen you and Midori at night.

She gasps. How!

Apparently when he was half-asleep. A scowl appears on my face. I wasn’t counting on him to have such psychic sensitivity. I guess that’s just one more obstacle in the path, huh. No wonder he's always surrounded by all kinds of paranormal stuff.

Mayii rests her tiny hand on my arm. Let’s just leave him and go home. He’ll survive.

No. My tone is cutting. I can’t… I can’t do that.

I stare at my side while grabbing my left elbow with my right hand. No… My task is to save Lei. He's in danger and I'm not even sure how to help him, or if he can be saved at all. Nobody has ordered me to do so, and so much could be lost, but I won’t leave a friend in need. Even if the world ends, I will carry on my mission until my last breath.

Her eyebrows arch sadly. You must really love him, huh…

I do. Assenting, I blink back my tears.

But what do we do now? He’s heading home. He’ll meet Dessande again if we don’t—

Let him be.

Sween! she gasps.

Maybe I have been taking the wrong approach? Switching to a new method would be the correct way to go? I've always known that for something to reduce its influence, simply removing your attention from it is the best option. But in this case, I feel more drastic measures might be needed, I wonder, tapping my chin with a finger. All I’ve been doing is making him have fun at my expense and give me a look as if I had three heads every time I try some flirting.

I turn to her.

In any case, I need to regroup my thoughts and have something to eat. Have you found me some food?

Yeah. The usual. Is that okay?

I’m not picky. Thanks, Mayii.

I look back at the large building Lei and I had spent the last hours at. Law Academy, where both of us and the detestable girl he loves study. Located close to the eastern outskirts of the city, the big, tall, wide and stony piece of architecture seems to dominate everything as you turn to it, totally erasing the laidback feelings one would have at the beach. Eight rows of identical square windows show up in every floor except the first one, which has only four of them, a main entrance in the middle, the library's door at the right, and the faculty door to the left. Everyone who wants to be a specialized professional, upholder of the law, has to take a course here. In our case, we’re studying to be detectives. Our title will be a college degree that allows us to work in the police forces or private practice.

In front of Academy is a beach that extends for about four miles, tamed with stairs connecting it to the lane and other human conveniences. The clear yellow sand may stretch for long but not for wide: fifty yards must be about the maximum breadth in all its extension. Some zones are much narrower.

This is the place where I’m currently standing on, the one I walk across when I go to school and back home. Behind the building there is a big, virgin forest. Sea to its right; civilization to the opposite side.

We’re all in last year. We share most subjects, but not all. There is one class that Lei and I take that Dessande doesn’t, and one that Lei and Dessande assist to that I don’t—argh. Fortunately, there’s not a subject that girl and I take but Lei doesn’t. Both Lei and I attend lessons where none of the others is around. Dessande too I assume, though I don’t care.

Dessande is the star of Academy. Lei is a little lost lamb. Me? I’ll let you judge. A few weeks more and we should all graduate, but…

Day 2

Her

It is a couple minutes before eight in the morning as I sit at one of the desks at Academy’s auditorium room, the most beautiful location for classes this building has, with its seats build in a ladder-like unevenness designed so everyone can get a panoramic view, especially the humongous blackboard—though this one should be called whiteboard—and the instructors at the front. The homely feeling of our soft wood and rubber study surfaces contrasts with the ultra-modern design and the shiny white paint everywhere else.

I spent the whole night deliberating what to do. A way to get to Lei. To make him open up to me. And at last took a decision: It is not him who I need to consider. His thoughts are just half of the information I require.

What I ought to do is to study my enemy. Know why he is so fatally attracted to Dessande. Gathering information about her is my top priority and what I’m set off to achieve right now.

I look at her as she enters our class. Physically a lot of guys would prefer her to me. Blond hair finishing in a triangular cut that reaches her waist in its longest lock, ironed within an inch of its life and combed back. She has a slender body with long, shapely legs and an exceedingly large bosom for her build. Her tight uniform looks good on her, accentuating her curves well.

Bah… To hell with the dainty, polite description; I’ll say what I feel. Triple B, the scourge of mankind. Eh? No, it’s not a supersecret organization, though it’s something as nasty as a villainous one from some spies movie. I meant Brainless Busty Blondes. Though this one is more brainy than brainless. Even worse. I cannot call her stupid blonde when thinking of her.

And she’s taller than me. I hate she’s taller than me. Though she must be around five feet eight inches, while I’m five six. Still. Her eyes resemble sapphires—covered in dust, that is.

Okay, okay, I’ll try to be objective. So many years of training let me know people’s personality in very few minutes; in occasion, less than one. I can make a very clear portrait of them just by their looks, the way they move, dress, smile, talk. It all boils down to observation, really.

Dessande is a person focused on her academic goals. No big interest in dressing up, make-up or flirting. Little inclination to romance, anything sexual, or anywhere in the emotional, intense side of life, for that matter. She is open and honest, rather straightforward, nice to others but without going out of the way to help them. This is what she conveys—or attempts to, quite successfully with everyone but me. Yeah… She has about as much mystery as a brick.

Then why Lei…

All of a sudden, my eyebrows knit. Oh no… This is going to be the toughest kind of fight. I should forget about Dessande and focus on him. It will take all my wits to save his hide.

Visually I search for him. He’s staring, so deeply in love, at his beloved blonde. I oh so hate that sight.

Mayii, I’ve decided, I tell her under my breath. She’s been at my side all the time.

What is it?

Lei is not to meet Dessande at night. I give you and Midori carte blanche. Do whatever is necessary. Discretion is a plus, but first priority is effectiveness. Okay?

Mayii nods. Is it that serious?

It is. I frown while I move as close as possible to him. The nearest seat I find leaves one classmate between us. And until then, please go gather as much information about their relationship as you can. I hush her with a hand gesture as our middle-aged professor Snorgasbor enters the classroom. I have this teacher in many classes. He’s—well, you’ll soon see.

Good day, students, he says, followed by the class’ greetings. Please leave the studies of evidence over your tables. He nods to a couple of helpers on the front, who start collecting the homework.

I shrug as I leave mine. Apparently this was a rather difficult assignment, judging from a couple of my classmates busily banging their heads against their desks. Oh, and another is pulling his hair. Professor Snorgasbor’ class has a fame of being exerting.

So let’s begin the lesson. Today we start with a reading from page forty-three. He slides his finger over a roll call list as we open our books. Miss Funew, please read the lectures of John Johnston Johns to the class.

Damn. Damn and more damn. I sigh as I stand up, book in hand.

The rule number one of a detective is to first carefully examine all evidence to start with. No matter how much of a period of time it takes, it doesn’t matter. First, you should look at all of it carefully first, and second, then look at it carefully again for the second time. A third careful inspection made by a third person is a good idea when in doubt in front of evidence that you think it’ll provide more clues than you think it does.

Am I being too paranoid… or reading the John Johnston Johns book makes me look stupid?

My assigned chore goes on. I know you don’t have to be a writer to become a detective, but come on…

I give a discreet peek at Lei as I finish and sit down. He’s looking to the front, with a neutral—wait, is that a smirk I see on his lips? Damn you. Fuck you. It’s not like I wrote this, dumbass!

As Miss Funew read before, inspection is the key to an investigation… Snorgasbor turns his back to us to write on the blackboard. I use this opportunity to crumple a paper sheet and hurl it to Lei, managing to hit him on the left temple.

Heeey! he growls at me.

Snorgasbor turns around. Hm? What did you say?

Lei blinks.Eh?

Mister Synge-Sturmmond, is there something you would like to share with the class? he asks as I put my most innocent, never-broke-a-plate face.

Nothing—sorry for interrupting! Lei growls. Snorgasbor looks at him for a couple seconds before turning again.

Oh, how sweet of him. He didn’t denounce me to the authority of the place—

Or not. I glare at him after receiving an impact from my same paper ball.

Professor Snorgasbor! These two are hurling stuff at each other! the rat between us denounces.

Shut up, you idiot, I whisper, but now our teacher and the whole class are staring at us.

Excuse me? Snorgasbor asks.

Synge-Sturmmond and Funew, they are tossing paper balls!

Do you want to wait outside, you two? is the professor’s harsh question.

Sorry, we won’t bother again, Lei affirms.

My cheeks blush a little. Lei is covering up for me. He really is chivalrous. Sorry… I muse.

One interruption more and you’re visiting the Principal, Snorgasbor threatens. Paper balls? What are you, five-year-olds? he asks, as the rest of the class laughs.

Maybe I am… I let a few minutes pass by and then move back subtly, sneaking my hand under the rat’s coat that’s hanging on the back of his chair. I smirk as my handiwork ends up perfect.

As the lesson finishes, we stand up from our desks. It’s show time.

The rat reaches for his blazer—but it’s tangled with the furniture. His pulling attempts are to no avail. Looking closer, he discovers that two buttons are knotting a bridge of cloth over one of the pipes of the seat. I smirk. Nothing he can’t solve by tearing one of the buttons…

But he’s not that smart. He keeps pulling the coat, like the monkeys when they have grabbed a thing they like and can’t let go. Ah well. Why am I spending time watching this idiot?

My attention turns to Lei. He looks like he’s in a hurry—but I don’t want him to leave so soon.

God-fuck-damn! I hear him exclaim as his backpack’s bottom gives in. I try not to laugh while offering my solicitous aid in retrieving his things.

Don’t touch my stuff! Hey!

I raise an eyebrow. Just trying to help.

Nobody asked you to help me—argh!

I stand up again as he gathers his sprawled stationery in a feverish manner. Luckily for him, he manages to stuff all of them tightly in another of the bag’s compartments.

Dammit, and it was a new backpack too… Well, not new, about two or three weeks old. But still! he says, not sure if to me or to himself.

I once had a messenger bag that broke down the second time I used it, I comment.

He glares at me. You still here?

I glare back. Say, why do you have to be so not nice? Is this how you treat Dessande too?

He snorts. Are you comparing yourself with Miss Aviemore?

My eyes narrow. So what if I am?

"Well, there’s a bit of difference between you two," he declares, sneering.

Oh, really? In which way is she better than me?

His mouth’s expression turns even more disagreeable. In alphabetical order?

My eyelids lower halfway.

She’s prettier. She has nicer eyes, a nicer face, and a nicer figure. And let’s not even start on the chest department. He looks down at said place of mine for a moment, making my face burn with rage. She has a better personality, she’s friendlier, she’s loving, cute, sexy… And I’m willing to bet there’s no comparison with her and you in bed. Wait a minute, do you even know what I mean by ‘in bed’? He smirks.

My eyes are narrowed into mere slits. I want to slap the guy so badly… At the same time, I can’t help but feel pity for him. If only he understood…

I can’t let myself give into his rage. That won’t benefit either of us.

Sure, I know I don’t hold a candle to Dessande in the chest department. But still. My right hand gets close to my left breast, under his attentive look. Some say more than a handful is a waste. I squeeze it temptingly, trying to make him notice that what I have is a little more than a handful. His face’s expression is frozen, a diffuse blush coloring his nose and cheeks.

My legs are at least as shapely as hers. However, she doesn’t have this. I turn around and wave my large, shapely butt in the most subtle motion I can manage. I hear him breathe sharply—my, it doesn’t seem he’s in the mood to snap back at me now.

Sure, she has a nice face, but so do I. And she doesn’t own this either. I run my hand over my long, shiny, wild hair, which I keep purposely messy. I’m really no fan of ironing like her, preferring to keep my natural, slight waves. He’s staring at it with a small frown on his face.

As for the personality part, maybe she’s better off. But I always treat you kindly, don’t I? I smirk as he recoils a bit. Hitting a nerve on him again.

And I do know what you mean by ‘in bed’. I may like juvenile stuff, but that doesn’t mean I have to be childish about everything. As for who is better there… I sneer disagreeably, ready to kick him where it hurts him the most. Who knows. It’s not like you’re man enough to know.

His fists clench as he glares at me. "Eat those words. If it