Ezra
She hadn't come back today.
Ezra swirled the red wine in the glass, letting the liquid slosh and spill at the edges. Red wine this time because it was supposedly good for his health and it could help him sleep.
Sleep that would perhaps be finally free from thoughts of her.
Even now, she clung to his brain, settling like motes of dust on his furniture, in his every waking moment. They were everywhere, those thoughts of her. They came to him when he woke up, came to him when he ate. They refused to go away.
Where was she? He would ask in his head. What was she doing? They stayed with him throughout the day, strongest when he was alone. In those moments of solitude, those thoughts came along with the manifestations of her form by his side. Her lips on his cock, her skin on his body, her hair in his hands.
Masturbating helped for a while. It helped him to get that annoying hard-on in his pants out of his way.
It helped him when he thought he could smell her in the air and would grow hard. It helped him when he dreamt of her nudity. It helped him when he remembered her sounds. It was quick relief that drove out the tension in his body and replaced the anxiety within him with dopamine.
But when he was touching himself to the thoughts of her memory. The taste of her skin, the smell of her arousal and the warmth of her body. It began to feel like something sinful.
It felt like he was doing something awful and he was left with a disgusting aftertaste on the tip of his tongue. A feeling of sickness coiling deep within his belly. Disgust and self-hatred spewing from the crevice of his inner darkness and taking over his mind.
What kind of fucking idiot would lust after someone with a soulmate?
What kind of stupid asshole would do that to himself?
What kind of dumbass would dream of tasting heaven when he was meant for hell?
He shook his head, downing the glass, hoping that the buzz would kick in just in time to lull his mind into a much more calm and sleepy state. It didn't help him, of course, and it left him feeling agitated and jumpy.
He lifted the glass to his lips only to put it back down awkwardly when he realised that he'd finished his drink. He sighed, stretching to reach for the bottle.
He was only here for the wine. He reasoned to himself. He was here, in the apartment that he usually used for sex, because the dormitory had no space.
He shook his head. No, space wasn't the right word. Perhaps, no privacy would be more accurate.
The dormitory was just filled with testosterone, too many horny BFFs masturbating in every damn bathroom available. They were wanking in every damn locked room, stinking the place with the smell of their cum.
The tissue boxes and lube that the seven of them seemed to plough through each week was steadily increasing by the day. So much so that it was starting to become the one thing constantly being run out in the damn house. It was almost as if the libido of everyone in the house had skyrocketed to new heights this month.
Ezra snorted, running his hands through his hair. He was just sick of having to wait outside the toilet for another bestie wank so that he could jerk off to—
He slapped a palm to his head, groaning.
Goddamnit. Not this again. His mind reminded him yet again of the person of all his current fantasies. The one person that had been constantly on his mind in his every waking hour.
It was his fault. His fault for tasting the forbidden fruit and becoming addicted forever. She told him not to look in that recording booth and he fucking broke that damn promise like a perverted lecher.
He knew he would hate himself for doing it, probably would be going to hell for it. But, the sight of her would remain to be one of his most treasured memories for the rest of his pathetic miserable life and it would haunt him for the rest of his days
She had been absolutely beautiful.
His cheeks warmed at the thought, his cock swelling with blood at just the memory of that sight. It had been nothing like he had ever seen in his life.
Her body was covered in just his oversized black t-shirt, the fabric bunching up at the ends to reveal teasing peeks of her belly. He'd never been so thankful for the silkiness of his clothes, but he was now. The material had flowed over her body, dipping at the valley of her perky tits and outlining the sensual curve of her form.
His mind drifted. It drifted to thoughts of the soft pink of her underwear clinging to her hips. A cutting that was too innocent for his liking but had sent his heart running with exhilaration and adrenaline from deep-set lust.
It drifted to the peach of her thighs, glistening with trickles of her arousal that ran down her legs. Her face flushed in a deep rose. He thought back to the sight of her plush lips. The parted rosebuds were exhaling a phantom gush of warm air, slightly moist with saliva; her lips parting further as her body trembled under his control.
His fucking control.
Of course, like the perverted hot-blooded male he was, his eyes had zeroed in on her pussy. He enjoyed the way her panties clung to her most private areas. The fabric was sticky and wet from her fluids, turning almost see-through as it clung to her plump lower lips. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his life—that damn dip of wet fabric wedged in her pulsating slit.
When he had set that Bluetooth vibrator to the highest setting, she had involuntarily parted her legs wide open, giving him the perfect view of that one place he longed to dip his cock into—
Fuck.
He exhaled again, scrunching the fabric of his shirt between his fingers, glaring furiously at his hands. He was sick. Sick and fucking disgusting, a shitty human being. He growled, rubbing his fingers in his hair aggressively.
He had been too greedy, too damn needy. He had acted like a loser when his mind had registered Oliver as a threat. He shouldn't have cared, shouldn't have reacted so angrily to Oliver. Ezra had snapped then, too consumed by jealousy and the need to claim her as his own that he forgot about the consequences.
Of how she had a soulmate and how she would no doubt throw him away soon. He bit his lips. He knew that he shouldn't have kissed her. God, why did he do that? Ezra closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers over his temples.
The darkness had once calmed him down, it was once his haven. His escape from this place on Earth. But now all he could see was her on his lap. Her hips grinding against his own, her arms around his neck. Her lips on his. Her eyes—
Fuck!
He shot out of his seat, standing to pace around the room. His lips nibbling on his nails, biting into them in search of habitual comfort and relief.
He knew that he had been an asshole for snapping at her like that, for being angry at her when it was just his fault. His fault for falling so damn hard for her—No. He stopped himself then. No, he did not fall for her.
It was just his body. His body that was driving him goddamn crazy. His body that had pushed him to touch her and kiss her. His body that had practically sung under her skin. The elation, the heart-pounding adrenaline that had ensued with her touch. The excitement that made him dizzy with lust and deep-seated happiness. That was all just his body.
His crazy and stupid body.
That's right. He nodded to himself. It explained why he still had her panties, hidden in his room in the bedside drawer right next to the lube. It explained why such a clean freak like him could stand having someone else's arousal-soaked underwear in his hands.
He had tried to resist the urge to take a sniff. He tried so damn hard to keep his sanity in check, but the animal in him had been the one in control. He had found himself lifting the fabric to his nose and inhaling.