11
martyr
Stavros and I met in high school. His ice cold glare, poker face, tossled ink hair, and towering height always bought the ladies. I found him quite... annoying. Was it the fact that he hung out with my cousin or was it because deep down, I knew I wished to be one of the girls he's been with.
"Hello, my name is—"
"Oh yes, miss Dimitrious! Of course, hello, what a wonderful pleasure to have you here at Prianka Academy. You're father has already informed me of your arrival. Oh good joy! You're exquisite!" The woman at the front desk blabbered. Her dark skin glowed within the school office's light. Albeit she looked aged and wrinkled, she was absolutely stunning.
I chuckled in an awkward manner. "Yep, in the flesh."
She splatters on word after word 'til she finally caught my attendance under her arm. Clumsy, yet approachable, woman.
Making my way out the office, I thread through the hallways to find my locker. The corriders decorated in bright bold colors of yellow, red and green. Reflecting down on the uniform I wore, it was the same.
New city, new school... oh joy.
"Don't get yourself into any trouble, okay?" my cousin, Damocles, warned me. In return, I roll my eyes at his weird behavior.
"Yes, I won't. Now leave me alone."
"I swear to God, if I ever find you beating someone up and they fucking scratch your face they're getting it worse. You hear m—"
"Dame, what's taking you so long." A rough voice interupts my cousin. Immediately, I avert my gaze to the voice.
I reminisce on his past self. Stavros Ciasphar Koenig, at an estimation of 6 ft. and 3 inches tall, wearing a uniform. I never saw him before, due to the fact that I've lived elsewhere. My father decided it was best for us to move so we could accompany Damocles in his large mansion. A gift, from my father. Damocles' parents had already passed months before.
A checkered vest filled with colors that represented the school; his black long sleeved polo peaking underneath as it was all topped by a white blazer. A peculiar style, yet he rocked it. I took note of the women from all levels that glared holes at the back of my head. His powerful steps echoed within the spacious hallway, men and women alike craned their necks to gawk at him with admiration, respect and a tinge of fear. Disquietude I could not quite place as to why.
I took my time observing his face.
High yet sharp cheekbones, a sharp jawline, thin red-ish pink lips, ebony hair, tanned skin and eyes greener than the amazon forest. He looked... deformed.
His eyes wander to my own, a brow raised at the sight of me: my cousin's hand latched onto my arm as I sport an annoyed expression. Damon reluctantly released my wrist as he reaches out to the boy with a lip piercing.
"Stav! I thought you weren't studying here anymore?" His eyes trained on me.
Weirdo.
A slight cough escaped pass his lips as the gears of his head run through to think of a reply. "My dad wanted me here, still. Germany is having a crisis."
"Oh!" Damon gasps, motioning to my unmoved state. "This, my dear friend, is my cousin."
"Stavros Ciasphar Koenig." He introduced himself swiftly, reaching out for my hand to shake.
"Vernamina Elixir Dimitrious."
His tongue pressed against the inside of his right cheek, his eyes raked through me. After taking me in, his eyes suddenly met mine. I shivered in fright. He titled his head to the side.
"Elixir..." He tested out. "I like that."
I close my eyes as I relish at the memory. Cold skin awoke my senses. Tingles sparked throughout my skin. His fingers weaved through my own, enveloping my hand in his. A soft kiss planted on my skin.
"A penny for your thoughts, agape mou?" He whispered. Trailing soft kisses down my neck as he carressed the side of my waist. "Stop it. It tickles." I protest,
"You're mine now. Got it?" He claimed my lips.
My heart raced at the serene memory. Rosalynn sat on top of my bed as she informs me of her day. I pressed my face to my pillow, slightly blurring out her slurs. No matter how many times I attempt to distract myself from my Koenig, my thoughts always came home to him.
A pillow bouncing on my head awoke me to reality. "You're in love," she sighs. My brow rose in confusion.
Is it bad to be in love?
"Promise me something," she fixes her sitting position. Holding out her pinky, which I reluctantly accepy. "I know you're a martyr when it comes to stuff like this, but never allow yourself to suffer in a state you can't handle anymore. Okay?"
"I won't." I promised her.
Nodding her head in approval she stands up and walks inside my closet. Her action left me confused. I could hear her rummaging through pieces of clothing, the sharp clicks of plastic hangers clashing together. Loud thumps of shoes thrown on the floor greet me as I follow to see what she's up to.
A yell of victory echoed within the closet walls. She stood up, throwing at me an article of clothing, a bag, and a pair of YSLs. Yanking me out of the mediocre space. She pushes me in the bathroom. Ordering me to dress up and be quick so she could do my make-up for me.
I glide my hands down the curves of my waste as I admire my reflection. The royal blue midi dress fit snuggly on my body. A high slit reach up to the middle of my thigh, a plunging neckline exposed the top of my chest. Mesh sleeves covered my arms, complimenting the mesh ribbons of my shoes.
Damn. I look hot.
Being sat down on my vanity chair, Rosie— who was all dressed up as well— started on caking my face.
"You wanna keep it a secret?" she scrutinises to which I nod my head. "But, why? Wait... You've been keeping this from me for how long now?"
I lower my gaze to my lap. "2 months..." I mumble.
"Vernamina Elixir, what am I to do? He better not hurt you, look at you! keeping secrets from me. I'm hurt." she huffs.
Proceeding on with swipping lipstick on my lips, I think to myself.
I'm not going to let a person shake my moral value. I won't. And I'll make sure of it.