The study session started off fine.
Textbooks. Notes. Her in my hoodie again. trying not to look directly at her thighs because they were out. Again.
You know, normal.
And then she hit with it — mid-sentence, mid-equation, like a landmine casually dropped between Chapters.
> "Do you ever get horny?"
My pencil snapped. I didn’t even realize I was holding it that tight.
I turned slowly. "Oh my God, Cel— I an, Val."
She grinned like she’d just won a prize. "See? You canlearn."
I stared at her. "That’s what you’re proud of? The fact that I caught myself mid-na right after asking sothing like that?"
She leaned on one elbow, chin in palm. "But I’m serious. How do you cope with it?"
"With what?"
She blinked innocently. "The horniness."
I groaned. "Please stop saying that word."
> "Why? It’s a good word. Horny. Horny. Hoooorn—"
"Val."
She giggled. Then dropped the bomb.
"Do you just jack off to...?" She paused. Tilted her head. "To ?"
She was watching now.
No. Studying . Like this was the actual assignnt.
I didn’t even get the chance to deny it — or lie, or pretend I didn’t know what "jack off" ant — before she leaned in close.
"Do you wanna do it now?" she asked. Her voice was low, sweet, sinful. "I wanna watch."
I looked up at the ceiling like it held answers. It didn’t.
"I’m in hell," I muttered.
She laughed. Actually laughed. Then leaned back and sighed dramatically.
> "Fine. I’ll shut up."
She turned to her textbook, pulled it closer, and started reading like a normal human.
Except — she wasn’t normal. Ever.
Which is why, after five minutes of silence, I was sweating.
She didn’t touch .
Didn’t hum.
Didn’t throw her legs over my lap.
Didn’t call Virgin Boy or offer to straddle mid-essay.
Just sat there. Quiet, reading.
I glanced at her. "Val?"
"Hmm?" she replied, not looking up.
"...Are you okay?"
> "Yep."
I blinked. "Wait... are you mad?"
> "No."
That’s when I knew I ssed up.
I tried again. "I’m sorry if I—"
She cut in cheerfully, face lighting up like it never went dark.
> "So can I watch?"
I blinked. "You’re literally the devil."
She pouted. "You don’t wanna?"
"Oh my God, Val, you’re so manipulative."
She tilted her head and giggled. "What? That’s how I am. Deal with it."
Then, just like that, she slipped next to , draped her arms over , and buried her face into my shoulder.
"I love you," she whispered. Just like that. No build-up. No lead-in. No warning.
I froze.
Literally froze.
She didn’t move. Didn’t tease. Didn’t even wait for a response.
She just sighed again — this ti softer, gentler — like she’d been holding it in and now it was out.
"You don’t have to say it back," she murmured. "Take your ti. I’ll wait."
I didn’t know what to say.
I didn’t know if I could say anything.
My chest was tight. My brain was fried.
My heart? Loud. So loud.
And she didn’t even push it.
She just stayed there. Soft, warm, dangerous and beautiful.
Wrapped around like she wasn’t a walking, talking red flag with violent tendencies and a black card.
I thought about everything.
The way she never listened.
The way she always got her way.
The chaos, the mood swings, the obsession.
The way she threatened for using her na and smiled while doing it.
And still...
At that mont, I realized sothing horrifying...
I didn’t want her to shut up anymore.
I didn’t want her to stop being the way she was.
Because maybe I was just as ssed up... for starting to like it.
---
To be continued...
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