Have you ever had a moment in life where you look at a complete stranger, and your entire environment just evaporates? You can’t help but stare at the attractive individual that has unknowingly captivated you. It’s like you’re totally blind to everyone and everything else, because in that frozen moment in time, if only for a minute, they become the center of your universe. They become the shining sun in your pitch dark galaxy, and you can’t help but feel a little crestfallen because you know you’re nothing more than a lonely little planet orbiting around them. What significance do you have in the world compared to them? All you can do is steal secret glances at the most devastatingly beautiful person you have ever seen in your life.

You encounter a miracle, as your heart skips a beat, indicating a resurrection after years of enduring life like the walking dead. And as taken back as you are by that phenomenon, your options are limited. Ultimately, you pray for emotional suicide, as a despairing sense of hopelessness fills your heart. Feeling numb to emotion is better than feeling an attraction that is so undeniably strong it hurts. The tragedy is that you know that person will never look at you the way you look at them. They’ll forever remain a stranger, and you will eternally remain insignificant to them. They’ll never know that you spent five minutes of your time thinking about them, thinking about all the possibilities of creating a connection. But the universe will know. The universe always knows. Perhaps they could be your one true love passing you by, or maybe they’re just a short chapter that must be written in order to complete your book of life. Either way, you have two choices; approach or walk away.

You retain every smile, every laugh and expression in your short term memory, so that you can loop it in slow motion in your mind. Just like a film; you play back your favorite scene, and even though it lacks an epic soundtrack, you take care of that problem. Lay back, press play, and close your eyes. Through sheer force of will, your mind will have orchestrated a beautiful symphony that echoes a spellbinding reverie in your ear drums. It sounds so surreal, even though in reality, all you can hear is the natural noise of your surroundings; people chattering, the sound of a coffee blender, a tea cup falling to the floor, an angry customer… all it takes is one person to inspire you, and the next thing you realize is that you do have an artistic soul after all. My life is a musical in my mind, but I’m not the one singing it. I leave that to the talented artists that seem to tell my life’s story whenever I listen to their music. Lyrics can touch you, a voice can make your heart shiver, and the melody can melt even the most frozen souls.

Trust. They say you need to give it to get it, but I’ve given it away one too many times. The last man I trusted almost killed me with his betrayals. How do you heal a broken heart? You don’t. It doesn’t heal. It stays mutilated inside your chest, bleeding. All you can do is learn to live, ignorant to the fact that it’s broken. At one point, you numb yourself, the lights go out, and you’re left feeling empty and hollow. You become a shell of the person you used to be. I resent who I was; so naïve and stupid. I’ll never be that way again. I’ll never let anyone in again. Ever. Not even Logan.

I hate love. I hate everything it represents. It isn’t real. It doesn’t exist. For all I know, we’re all just some fucked up alien experiment. I guess those extra-terrestrial fuckers got bored and needed some entertainment. What if every gifted human that has contributed to the advancement of science and technology was abducted by aliens at some point, so that they could “put these innovative ideas” into that individual’s head? What if it was all part of their agenda to advance our technology and transition the world to a new era of mechanical domination? It doesn’t sound crazy to me, anything’s possible. I’m not trying to discredit Einstein or Alexander Bell. If you can’t prove alien existence, how can you prove God’s? You can’t. This is a Godless world we’re living in. All I want is a one way ticket on a rocket ship out of here. Destination? An uncharted planet with peaceful inhabitants that are nothing like the fucked up human race.

Sex. Sex disgusts me. It’s messy and gross. Then why do I do it? Why do I casually give my body away to whoever I want? It’s just self-punishment in the end. It only adds to my self-loathing. Sometimes I want to skin myself alive and douse myself in bleach. That’s how dirty I feel after fucking a random. No matter how I envision it, I can never rid myself of these disturbing thoughts that plague my self-perception. I’m pretty sure I have a death wish. Suicide would be the easy way out. Maybe I’m an emotional masochist, sadistically torturing myself gets me off in some twisted way. What is my goal? I want to evolve. I want to become the first human being to transform into a machine. I’m the anti-thesis of Bicentennial Man; a robot who only wished to be human, journeying through his mechanical existence to become exactly that. In the end, he achieved it. If I could volunteer and be a part of some underground experiment, have my body dissected, I would—if it meant that I would stop being human.

Destruction. I am destruction. I will destroy every good thing in my life because I believe I don’t deserve happiness. I will hurt people before they hurt me. Leave them before they leave me. At least that’s what the quacks have concluded. I’m every psychiatrists dream. The kind of patient that would try to seduce my shrink into having sex with me during therapy sessions. That’s what happened with the last one. He was young and hot. There was something about those black framed glasses that really turned me on. Doctor Andrew Watson; the man was engaged too. It didn’t stop me from pursuing him. The way I saw it, I was the shark, and he was the fish… I was hungry. What do you expect when you put helpless prey into a shark tank? The sex was amazing though. I wonder if he kept that desk. We definitely put it to good use. He had a thing for missionary sex and cello music. Bach was his favorite musician. I can’t even listen to classical music the same way again without remembering the way he fucked me. By the time my sessions with him were over, I’m pretty sure he was in dire need of hiring his own therapist. I had to change my number so he would stop calling me. He thought he could save me, but I didn’t want to be saved.

There’s a part of me that wants to believe in love. I want to believe that it is possible for someone to love me unconditionally, but it’s so hard to hold such a strong conviction when all the men in my life have proven otherwise. I’m just holding on to a dream that will never come true.

The thought of watching the world combust into flames brings tears to my eyes because I find it so beautifully vindicating. Am I sick for thinking that? No, I don’t believe I am. This universe deserves an apocalypse. It honestly should have happened ages ago. Everything on this planet is corrupt and deserves to die. Love doesn’t exist. Humanity doesn’t exist. It’s all an illusion and people are masqueraders in this soap opera called “life.” If God exists, then he should have wiped us all out ages ago. I don’t belong here. Where is my place? I feel so lost. I’ve always felt lost. It’s only a matter of time before I really self-destruct. I just want to feel free. I want to be free of all this pain that’s kept me prisoner. Life is pointless. What is my purpose? I have none. Humanity is one huge fucking joke.

~oOo~ 
I closed her diary shut and stared into space. It was a beautiful leather bound journal, but inside its pages, penned in black ink, was a battle of light vs. dark. A darkness that I was blind to because when I looked into Ava’s eyes, all I saw was light. I had no idea she was this deep. It was wrong of me to violate her privacy and read her personal thoughts, but I just couldn’t resist temptation. She was a mystery I wanted to solve. The irony in this situation was that she became even more mysterious to me. I wanted to figure her out. I wanted to know everything there was to know about her, including her past. This didn’t make me want to run in the opposite direction. Not in the least.

I was in the middle of wiping the lecture board, when I heard a pair of heels clicking down the hall in haste.

Speak of the devil.

“Can I help you, Ms. Summers?”

Those dark brown eyes expressed nothing but anxiety, as she met my gaze and stared down at the lost-and-found item on my desk.

“I left something behind,” she said, walking towards her prized possession.

“Ah, yes. I took the liberty of retrieving it before anyone else absconded with it.”

“Absconded? Really?” she arched an eyebrow at me.

“Exercising my vocabulary. You should try it.”

“I’m not a walking thesaurus.”

A walking sex goddess was more like it. My palms were sweaty and I wasn’t sure if I was going to lie or tell the truth if she asked me what I thought she was going to ask. Regardless, I remained calm, kept my composure, and watched her snatch the diary away. She leafed through it as if she had some supernatural ability to uncover my fingerprints.

“You didn’t… did you?”

“Come again?” I definitely heard her loud and clear, I was only trying to delay an answer because I needed a little more time contemplating whether to lie or tell the truth.

“Did you read my diary?” Ava clarified.

“Oh, is that what it is?”

Liar, liar, burn in fire. I continued packing away some books into my messenger bag.

“I’m going to leave now.” She appeared suspicious, slowly backing away from me.

“Ava, wait,”

She’s going to fucking hate me.

“Listen I… I didn’t mean to, but I may have read a couple pages.”

“What!?” she said it so loud that her voice echoed in my lecture hall.

“I apologize. I picked it up from off the floor once everyone cleared out. It opened halfway by accident, and naturally, I got curious when I recognized your handwriting.”

“I can’t believe you would violate my privacy like that!”

Bloody hell, there were tears in her eyes.

“Ava, please don’t cry,” I tried to get close to her, but I only seemed to repel her more. “I didn’t read all of it.”

“As if that’s any better!”

I really fucked up. Royally.

“I’m going to quote myself, and I’m sure it will ring a bell,” she iced her tone. “I can never trust anyone. Thank you for proving me right.”

I knew I had done something I could not take back, and I felt like absolute shit for breaking her trust.

“Wait,”

“Don’t follow me!”

I stopped moving and watched her leave. Should I have prevented us from getting involved? Yes, I should’ve. But it was too late to re-do things. Even if I could’ve gone back, Ava still would’ve ended up in my bed. It was inevitable. You can only fight sexual attraction for so long before somebody eventually gives in.

It felt like instinct to go after her, but she couldn’t even stand to look at me. I never felt so distressed over a woman before. This was a first for me and I certainly wasn’t used to it. Wanting to be with someone, needing to be with them, it was all new to me. She was so fragile inside. I should’ve been more cautious.

Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve , I couldn’t turn back the clock.

AVA 
I stepped out of my bedroom, swigging back a few gulps of the cheap red wine I had bought earlier. It didn’t taste great, but at least it was helping me numb shit. Lightning lit up my mundane living room, as rain hit the window panes. This was an odd occurrence because usually Toronto would be snowed in by now. A thunderstorm was just freakishly random. I loved the sound though. It represented everything that was raging inside of me. At least all that crackling electricity was able to freely escape in the sky, yet everything destructive and dangerous was just swirling around within me, waiting to explode.

I sang along with Jhené Aiko and slumped down on my sofa, lighting a cigarette. She was singing one of my favorite tracks; The Worst. I had a shit ton of assignments to complete and I was about to get started on that, when my cellphone suddenly rang. I was expecting it to be Logan, but my mom’s picture appeared under the caller ID. I immediately pressed ignore and carelessly dropped my phone on the table. I really didn’t feel like talking to her. We just weren’t close anymore. Our relationship was way too damaged. I always felt like she didn’t give a shit about me. Her constant phone calls contradicted my beliefs, but there’s a difference between checking if someone is still alive and actually being there for them. I might’ve been crappy girlfriend material, but I was always a great daughter and sister. I went above and beyond for my family, and in return, I always got treated like shit. I was so done with living up to that expectation.

Inhaling a smoggy cloud of nicotine, I grabbed the black marker that was on top of my coffee table and stood up. I made my way towards the wall across from me and stared at it. It was covered in quotes, proses, ideas, and rants. Basically everything and anything that I was feeling, I jotted down and decorated the walls with my craziness in text format. Call it Ava’s cultic scripture.

“If you can’t conform to society’s norms, you’re as good as dead.”

I wrote it down on an empty area on the wall and read it over in my mind. Everything in this life was an illusion. I just wanted out. I wanted to escape this miserable world. Nothing made me happy. I was tired of acting. The other night I dreamed that I was standing on a skyscraper, and I jumped into the street, free falling. All I had to do was believe that I wouldn’t die, and I began to land in slow motion. There wasn’t a single scratch on me. I managed to make myself go back in reverse and make that same jump, just to be sure that I could do it again. And sure enough, I landed safely once more.

I was almost tempted to test out this theory, even though I knew I would splatter like red mush on the street.


LOGAN 
I tried calling her, texting her, emailing, she didn’t want to speak to me. Should I have left her alone for the evening? That would’ve been the sensible thing to do, but I just couldn’t sleep knowing that I had hurt her. I lay in bed staring at my ceiling when I heard my cellphone vibrate.

Text from Ava:

Urr an asssshole

Was she drunk?

For fuck’s sake, not again.

I had been labeled many names in life, and “asshole” was certainly on the list; arrogant asshole, to be precise. I wasn’t mad. In fact, all I could feel was relief because she finally contacted me. Opening the line of communication with an insult was better than the silent treatment.

Text from me:

I know, Ava. I’m sorry.



Text from Ava:

Stppp apolgizzing



Text from me:

Where are you?

I had to make sure she wasn’t at some bar getting herself into trouble because of me.



Text from Ava:

Homne drnnkng sme winnee :D… oopps 4got pillz too. hedachhe

I was about to text her, but decided I’d call instead.

Her phone rang, and rang. She wasn’t picking up.



Text from me:

Pick up your damn phone.


Text from Ava:

Dnt wanna tlk 2 u! pissedd!! K

Right, this was going to be harder than I thought.




Text from me:

Ava, let me call you. I can hardly make sense of what you’re writing.

That wasn’t true, but I just wanted to hear her voice.

An entire minute almost went by and she still hadn’t responded, so I decided to call her again. Surprisingly, she picked up right away this time.

“What is it that you want, professor?” her speech was slightly slurred, but she sounded relaxed.

“Where are you? I hear music.”

She giggled and answered, “I told you, I’m at home.”

“What pills did you take and how many?” I got up from bed and started pacing around my window in the darkness.

“Relaaaaax, jeez… not suicidal… took Advil.”

“How many?”

“Are you my doctor now?”

“I’m worried about you. I’ve been bloody worried all evening.”

“Look, professor, I like you and all, but you really need to stop obsessing over me. I know I’m amazing in bed, and you’re not too bad yourself, but…”

“Ava, quit messing around with me. I’m being serious.” She was a feisty one, and I liked that about her, but she really did frustrate the fuck out of me.

“So am I, which is why I’ve decided to drop your class.”

“What?” I shouted into the phone. “You can’t do that, you need this class. I’m the only one teaching it.”

“I don’t care.”

“You can’t just jeopardize your academic future to penalize me. I feel terrible and horribly guilty for invading your privacy, but if it makes you feel any better, I was blown away by your words…”

“Stop.”

“Ava, listen to me,”

“Shut up!” She screamed. “Just stop!”

I heard a sniffle on the other end. She was crying. This girl was a lot more sensitive than she let on.

“Don’t sabotage everything just to get back at me. I’m not worth it.”

“I know you’re not.”

Hearing her reaffirm what I said made me feel worse about myself.

“I just can’t sit in your lecture hall anymore. We’ve crossed too many lines and remaining professional is just impossible when you keep staring at me like you want to fuck me.”

“I do not stare at you like some sex object!” I argued. “I’ll have someone else supervise your dissertation paper, just don’t drop my class. I won’t let you.”

“You don’t want to fight me on this, Professor Wesley. You will regret it.”

I didn’t take her threats seriously. If she wanted to file a sexual harassment suit against me, she would’ve done it long ago. I knew her pretty well by now. This was Ava’s way of making me back off. She would push and push until the bereaved party would walk away. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

“Don’t’ do anything impulsive,” I tried to reason with her. “Give this some serious thought, please.”

“I have. I’m switching majors, so I don’t need to take your stupid class.”

She was being destructive and I understood why; losing a loved one was not an easy thing to go through.

“Let me come see you.”

“No, we both know what happens when we’re alone together.”

I exhaled loudly and thrust my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Ava, I’m not going to have sex with you, I just want to talk.”

I listened to her breathing, and then she unexpectedly broke down. “I didn’t go to her funeral. I’m such a horrible granddaughter. I’m a horrible person.”

“You’re not. Don’t say that about yourself.”

Ava quickly tried to compose herself. “I’m sorry, I’m just drunk. I don’t normally…” She suddenly cursed out loud and the music cut off in the background.

“Everything alright?”

“My power just went out.” She cried out in pain and then I heard something break. “Ow, I just stubbed my toe!”

“Don’t move.”

“I need to find the candles—fucking glass!”

“Ava, don’t move,” I commanded. “You’re intoxicated at the moment. You’re going to get glass in your foot if you move around in the darkness—and I don’t want you playing with matches.”

“I’m not going to burn down my apartment, Logan,” she sounded annoyed with me. “And I’m not going to step on the glass. It’s just a broken bottle. I knocked it over by accident.”

“Please let me see you so that we can talk.”

“We’re already talking,” she laughed.

“I meant face to face, you know, it’s what two adults do when they’re trying to have a proper conversation.”

The woman was driving me mad with her stubbornness.

“We’re already having a proper conversation—minus my slurred speech, which I don’t think is that noticeable.”

“It’s noticeable,” I assured her. I actually liked the way her voice sounded while heavily under the influence. Alcohol kind of toned down the attitude, if only by a miniscule amount.

“Give me your address, I’m coming over.”

“Stop trying to be a hero and try to understand the fact that I am beyond infuriated with you.”

“You had the entire evening to stew in your anger, it’s been well over six hours, and you’re still mad at me?”

“Do I need to remind you about what you did?”

At this rate, we weren’t going to get anywhere with our back and forth bickering.

“No need for reminders, but don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?”

“Overreacting!?”

Bloody hell, wrong word, wrong time to say it.

“You read my diary! My personal experiences!” she conveyed in outrage.

“Yes, and I’ve seen you naked and have made love to you...”

“That’s not as intimate as my private thoughts!”

“You’re kidding me right?” I looked out the window and wondered why in God’s name it was raining cats and dogs in the middle of winter.

“A naked body is just a naked body,” she explained, “and sex organs are just sex organs. There’s nothing personal or intimate about what we did with our clothes off.”

No, that wasn’t true. I couldn’t believe that explanation, especially after reading what I did about her.

“Why are you so afraid to show your softer side?” I asked.

“Because I don’t even have a soft side! Quit trying to know me on a deeper level, and just give up already!”

I sat down on the edge of my bed and watched the lightning flash every five seconds.

“Alright, answer me this then, why won’t you let me see you?”

“Because I’ll try and take advantage of you.”

I snickered under my breath. “You’re the one who’s drunk. How could you possibly take advantage of me? I’m twice your size and let’s not forget the fact that I’m one hundred percent sober.”

“If you come here, we’ll just end up fucking. I know we will,” Ava sounded so sure of herself.

“Stop trying to bend my motives. I don’t want to see you for a quick romp in the sack.”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying to you.”

“Well, considering the fact that I’m quite educated in the English language, and a highly esteemed intellectual, I can argue my case and say that I comprehend what you are communicating to me just fine, thank you.”

“I’m hanging up the phone now, Logan.”

Oh, fuck me, come on! Stop being so difficult woman! I raged in my head.

“Ava, wait…”

But all I got was the dial tone. Feeling defeated, I stood up and walked into my living room to fix myself a glass of whiskey. Once I returned to my bedroom, my cellphone vibrated.

Text from Ava:

1670 Yonge and Eglinton. Unit #206

I was surprised she was able to text me a proper address (hopefully it was). Without wasting time, I quickly dressed myself, grabbed my keys, and left.

~oOo~ 
It was midnight on the dot when I reached Ava’s apartment. I was somewhat drenched, due to the lengthy walk from the parking lot. My hair and coat was wet. The lights in the hallway were on, which meant the power was restored, and I could hear soft music playing from inside her unit. Taking a deep breath first, I braced myself for an explosive argument and knocked three times.

I wasn’t sure why I cared so much about her. It threw me even more to know that I spent so much of my days thinking about Ava. I had been with many women, and I hadn’t shown this much interest to any of them. Not like the way I was interested in her.

The door finally opened and I was shockingly stunned. I wasn’t expecting her to greet me half naked. She was wearing a red lace push up bra and matching panties. Her hair was wild and seductive and there were faint mascara-track marks under her eyes.

“Took you long enough.” Ava turned around, leaving the door open so I could step inside. “Welcome to my crappy crib.”

I didn’t care for her lack of taste in home décor. How could anyone afford to hire an interior designer on a student salary? The walls were a dull cream color, and her flat was small with limited furniture; coffee table, a sofa, some lamps, and no dining table.

My eyes quickly locked target on her sexy arse. That lace fabric definitely clung to those cheeks so flawlessly.

All her lights were on, and her kitchen and living room were covered in tea light candles that had presumably been blown out before I arrived.

“The power came back like five minutes ago.”

“I’m impressed that you haven’t burnt down the building.”

“Very funny.” She scowled at me. “Is that why you came here? Where’s your fire hoze? Wait, don’t answer that. It’s in your pants.”

“Now who’s being humorous?” I smiled.

“If you want to be a firefighter, professor, all you have to do is quit your day job and switch professions. I’m sure you’d even make the calendar with that hot bod of yours.”

“Not a chance.” I took off my coat and asked, “Where’s your closet?”

“I don’t have one. Look around you, this isn’t exactly the best accommodations I’m living in.” She lay down on her tattered sofa and lit a cigarette.

I took off my shoes and hung my coat over a chair before I walked towards her. “I thought I told you to quit.” I snatched the fag out of her hand and put it out in the ashtray.

“Hey! That was my last one! You’ve got a lot of nerve, know that?” she fumed. “You’re in my space now, which means you’re in no position to boss me around. We’re not in your boring classroom.”

“So you find my lectures boring now?” I folded my arms in my chest.

“Yes, you spend too much time discussing all these topics that make people fall asleep. I suggest you fast forward to the good stuff next semester.”

“And yet I haven’t caught you snoring with your head down on your desk. Not once.” I flashed a smug smile. “I guess that means my lectures aren’t that bad after all.”

“That’s because I’ve been zoning out and fantasizing a hundred different ways to fuck you.”

“Are you down to fifty by now at least?”

“Not even close.”

I laughed and studied her for a moment.

“Is there a reason why you’re half naked?”

She sat up and glared at me. “Is there a reason why people dress themselves before stepping out in public?”

I furrowed my brows. “Well, of course. Public nudity is indecent, not to mention illegal.”

“Correct. Now, answer me this, Professor Wesley, am I standing out in public?” Ava talked with her hands.

I didn’t even need to answer. I caught on to her point.

“One of the many advantages to living alone,” she smiled sardonically and stood up. “I get to dress however the fuck I want.”

I watched her walk into her kitchen, opening the refrigerator.

“So, have you come here to force me to participate in a symposium? I’m assuming my stupid diary inspired you.” She drank a bottle of water and wiped her mouth.

“Ava, I…” Embarrassingly, I was tongue tied. It was hard to focus when she hardly had any clothes on. I would’ve asked her to put on a shirt at least, but she only would’ve retorted with a cheeky remark.

“You’re sorry, yeah, I know. You’ve only said that like a hundred times today.”

She stepped out of the kitchen and stopped in front of me. “Feel free to remove more items of clothing. This is a clothing optional zone.”

I quirked an eyebrow at her. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“I don’t need to try. You sealed your own fate the second you walked in.”

I was about to answer her, when I noticed the far left wall, covered in writing.

“Is that your handwriting up there?”

Ava shrugged. “People paint their walls, hang picture frames—I like to write my thoughts… in permanent black marker.”

“Do I have permission to read?”

“They’re not historical hieroglyphics. You won’t find anything fascinating or life inspiring up there. Nothing that’s museum worthy, anyway.”

“What will I find then?”

“A serious case of schizophrenia and psychosis,” she replied, making her way back to the sofa and almost tripping.

“Hey! Be careful.” I caught her just in time.

“I lose motor skills when I’m drunk. That’s about the only thing that sucks—oh, and I drunk text really horribly. Auto correct kept trolling me when I was trying to text you my address,” she laughed.

I helped her sit down and retraced my steps towards the wall. Skimming through whatever I could read, I quickly connected some puzzle pieces together.

This life is a prism… Society enslaves you… What’s the point in living? Religion is social control… What if the Devil is real? I feel like I’m losing my mind… Nothing feels real sometimes… A parallel universe could exist… repeating time lines? Déjà vu means you’ve died in a past life and have come back to have a chance to fix your fuck ups… Possibly due to suicide? Repeating personal Hell? 
Her thoughts were so sporadic, but everything seemed to intersect and link into a chain.

“Are you officially weirded out yet?”

I turned around and looked at her. “You’re an artist. This is how you express yourself.”

“Why do you do that?” she questioned.

“Why do I do what?”

“Pretend to treat me like I’m perfectly normal when it’s obvious I’m not.”

“What do you mean?” I blinked in confusion.

“Come on, Logan, do I really need to spell it out for you?”

“Maybe I should just write it in my diary and hand it over.” Her gaze was resentful.

I looked down at the empty liquor bottles on her table and asked, “Did you consume all that liquor this evening?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Please don’t go all A&E’s Intervention on me.”

“Ava, I’m serious.”

“Why do you even give a fuck?”

“Because I care about you.”

“You hardly know me.”

“We’ve already covered this conversation. I told you, I want to know you more, but you make that bloody difficult.”

“Tell me, professor,” Ava rose to her feet and managed to walk toward me without fumbling. She wound her arms around my neck and stared at me with confidence. “How many other students have you fucked? Give me an estimate.”

“Must I really repeat myself? I’ve never fraternized with any of my students before, you know this.”

She pursed her lips and slid her hands down my chest.

“I seriously find that hard to believe,” she reached for my belt. “Let’s just cut to the chase, shall we? We both know why you’re really here, and it’s pretty clear why I gave you my address.”

“Stop.” I grabbed her wrist. “Nothing’s changed. I’m not here to have sex with you.”

She paused and gave me the coldest stare. “Then get the fuck out.”

“I will, once I tell you this,”

Ava sighed in annoyance and waited for me to continue.

“What I’m feeling for you…”

“Hold it right there,” she cut me off. “I don’t want to hear about your feelings.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t care! Seriously, leave.”

I frowned at her and took off my shirt. “Do you care to listen now?”

There was a flaming flicker of lust in her eyes, as they cascaded down my naked chest. She was silent at last. Good.

“I have genuine feelings for you, Ava. I know I apologized numerous times for reading your diary, but to be honest, I’m not sorry, because it’s only made me,” I paused, trying to look for the word, “feel more attracted to you.”

“You need to un-attract yourself from me.”

“I’ve tried. I can’t.”

“What is it that you really want?”

“Your time, “I reached out to touch her face. “Your interest.”

“Why?” She looked at me with mistrust.

“I want to show you that this world isn’t as bad as you believe it is.”

“I don’t need you to preach Jesus to me.”

I let out a short laugh and shook my head. “Is that really what you think I’m trying to do? I don’t even go to church.”

She warily backed off saying, “You need to stay away, Logan.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip your heart out and eat it up.”

“I didn’t peg you for a Hannibal fan.”

She folded her arms in her chest and stared at me with contempt. “You think I’m playing?”

“I’m not some twenty year old boy, Ava.”

“And I’m not some book you can pick up and read to pass the time with, Logan.”

The sexual tension between us was unbearable. It was so difficult to hold myself back and not pull her into a kiss, especially when she was dressed so provocatively.

“Why are you being so sweet now? You’ve been nothing but a mean bastard to me from the beginning of the semester.”

“You’re a clever woman. I’m sure you can figure out why I’ve been such a dick to you.”

She was right. I was cold and picked on her a lot because I thought that if I could dislike her enough, I wouldn’t feel so attracted.

“Please reconsider your decisions. Don’t drop my class, and definitely do not ditch this term.” I reached down and picked up my white shirt from off the floor.

“What are you doing?”

I met her eyes with a smirk. “Getting the fuck out.”

“Don’t,” she gently pulled on my shirt until it fell on the floor again. “Don’t go.”

“Ava,” I sighed. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re ready to tug down my trousers and suck me off.”

She giggled and slipped her fingers in my waist band. “Do I look like I’m hungry for cock?”

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth.”

“You like it though.” She leaned in close and started kissing my neck.

“Have you forgiven me?” I asked, grabbing hold of her hips.

“No, but I might consider your apology if you bang my brains out.”

“Sex won’t resolve everything, and it certainly will not heal the damage inside.”

“I’ve given up on self-healing. The last shrink I saw...” Ava trailed off. “Let’s just say I outsmarted him.”

She started kissing my jaw and unfastening my belt. I couldn’t hide my erection. I would’ve been lying if I said that I wasn’t turned on in the least. Of course I desired her, but my visit was not sexually motivated.

“If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. But you need to stop trying to tempt me.”

“Why, is it working?” she grinned.

“No,”

Yes.

“It’s just frustrating more than anything,” I replied.

She started teasing me by rubbing my crotch up and down with her palm. “Oh my, professor,” Ava giggled. “What a hard cock you have.”

I looked down and then met her darkened gaze.

“This is the part where you say, all the better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“I’m an art history professor, not an aspiring actor—and did you just make a sexual innuendo out of a children’s fairy tale?”

There was suddenly a loud crash of thunder, and the power went out again.

We stood there in the darkness, and then I said, “I’ve never experienced a thunderstorm in December.”

“What can I say, it’s Canada. One day it’s below freezing temperature, the next day it’s April showers... in winter.”

I took the zippo off her wooden coffee table and started lighting candles. The flames added a nice, warm glow to the room. Once every candle was lit, I moved the coffee table, grabbed the white throw blanket, and laid it on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Ava asked.

“We’re going to sleep on your living room floor.” I took all the cushions off her sofa and dropped them down on the blanket.

“Okay, all set. Let’s get comfortable.” I lay down on my back with one hand folded behind my head. “Come.”

Her smile looked mischievous as she got down on her knees and began to crawl towards me like a lioness on the prowl.

“Ava, what are you doing?”

“Taking off your belt.” She unfastened it and dropped it to the side.

I leaned up on my elbows and reached for her wrist. “It stays in my pants.”

She looked at me, somewhat surprised at how serious I was. Though it was tempting, extremely tempting.

“Don’t tell me you just want to cuddle.” She appeared disappointed.

“I prefer the term, ‘caressing your ravishing body.’”

“I know I’m hot, but ravishing? I don’t think so. That’s something you tell a sophisticated woman who walks down a flight of stairs in a beautiful ball gown. I think you were born in the wrong era.”

“That’s quite the metaphor,” I answered, pulling her on top of me. Her body instantly moulded into mine.

I held her in silence for less than a minute before she said, “I don’t like this.”

“I’m basically a human pillow at the moment. Why are you complaining?”

“Well, first of all, pillows are fluffy, and since you have zero body fat and covered in hard muscle… well, do the math.”

“You’re not lying on titanium steel.”

“No, but I’ll be riding it soon enough.”

“Was that a reference to my cock?” I chuckled, running my fingers through her hair.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She looked up at me and said, “I want to lie down next to you.”

Reluctantly, I shifted over and placed a pillow for her head, as she slipped off my body. Her eyes were dark and shining. I lay on my side and bent an elbow, holding my head in my hand, as I slowly stroked her stomach. I could sense her apprehension, and I couldn’t understand why.

“Am I making you nervous?”

“No, I just… I’m not used to this.” Ava averted her eyes and fixed them on an inanimate object.

“Why won’t you look at me?” I gently proposed the question.

“Because I find my shoe box more interesting than you.”

“Had I not come here, you’d probably be drinking yourself to death.”

She finally met my gaze and said, “That wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

“You really are fed up with life, aren’t you?”

“I’m at war with Heaven and I’m not bad-ass enough for Hell. I’ll probably end up in some loser-limbo dimension when I die.”

I had to laugh.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” she muttered.

“Well, forgive me for laughing. I’m British, I like your harsh sarcasm, even though you use it to deflect so many things.”

“Stop trying to solve me, Logan. You will fail.” She breathed out and rubbed her eyes, which only made me grin.

“What?”

“You have raccoon eyes now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ava frowned.

“Well, if you weren’t wearing all that eye liner and dark eye shadow, you wouldn’t resemble…”

“Okay, got it.”

I continued caressing her and said, “I’m surprised you don’t have any tattoos on your body.”

“Are you stereotyping me?”

“Um—no, but I suppose it does sound like I am.”

“Tattoos are overrated. Besides, I’d only end up having to spend money on getting them removed like a month later. I lose interest in virtually everything very fast.”

“Well, I personally think you are the most intriguing individual I’ve ever met.”

“You say that because I’m probably the opposite of all the women you’ve ever dated. I’m unpredictable, therefore you find me exciting.” She closed her eyes and rested an arm over her forehead.

I stole a moment to just admire her body. She looked even skinnier than the last time I saw her. This was starting to worry me.

“I love the sound of thunder, always have,” Ava expressed.

“Tell me why.” I stroked her hip with a languid hand.

“You wouldn’t get it.” She looked up at the ceiling.

“Try me,” I encouraged, gently touching her thigh.

Her silence said it all. She wasn’t willing to share.

“I think I know,” I finally spoke up, wrapping her thigh around my waist. Her red bra straps fell off her shoulders, which only made her look sexier.

“It soothes your broken heart. And it’s ironic, because as loud, violent, and frightening the sound is to most, it’s the only sound that calms the storm in there,” I pressed my palm against the center of her chest.

Ava seemed to absorb what I said.

Lightning lit up the room as the rain poured down harder. I lightly traced the straight edge scars on her forearm with my fingertips. “How did you get those?”

“How do you think?” She stared up at me with a cross expression.

I frowned and felt sad to see her skin covered in self-inflicted wounds. They looked like faded lines on a barcode. Of course the cuts had healed, but what about the pain inside? I was doubting if she had recovered from that.

“When?” I questioned further.

She exhaled loudly and shot me another irritated glance. “You really want to know?”

I nodded, keeping my expression sincere.

“Started at sixteen, but I wasn’t a regular cutter. I only did it when I couldn’t handle life’s bullshit anymore. I grew up with high expectations from my family. I always had to be the straight ‘A’ student, the goody-two-shoes… basically the teacher’s pet and perfect daughter. My relationship with my mother was never great. She couldn’t understand the things I was going through. Her way of solving problems was always praying to God for the answers. I would pray, but he never answered.”

I could relate. At one point in my life I felt the same.

“I was her first born, and when it came to guiding me in my teen years, she failed. Big time. I felt alone. All my girlfriends in high school stabbed me in the back, so I started hanging out with my guy friends more, which automatically gave me the label of ‘slut.’”

I understood where she was coming from and was glad that she was opening up more than I had expected.

“I was unhappy, my grades were dropping, I was dealing with depression, and an eating disorder. By the time I was in my senior year I had no idea what the fuck I wanted to do with my life. I started dating a guy and he didn’t go to my school. He was actually in college and five years older than me. He was my first real boyfriend and I had zero dating experience before him. I never even had a first real kiss prior to hooking up with him. We went out on just one date, and the next thing I knew he wanted me to meet his parents and claim me as his girlfriend, literally overnight. I thought this was normal, even though I wasn’t ready for it. I decided to date him steady because…”

I waited for her to finish. “Because?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I caressed her face and stared deeply into her eyes. “It does matter, tell me.”

She seemed to waver a bit, but eventually continued. “I don’t want to go into detail. It was just a stupid decision on my part. Six months into my relationship with him, I ended up overdosing on my mother’s anti-depressant and anxiety pills. I didn’t want to die, it was just a cry for attention. I wanted my family to see that I was hurting and needed help. I desperately wanted out of that relationship. I wasn’t in love with my ex. Every time I tried to break up with him, he manipulated me into staying… buying my love with everything and anything. Being with him made me extremely unhappy. I felt like a sixteen year old prostitute. If they could make a realistic version of Pretty Woman, that was my life. There’s nothing romantic about having sex with a guy because you feel you owe it to them. He would buy me things, and in exchange I would give him amazing sex because I thought I was obligated to. Every time we fucked I wanted to die. I never enjoyed it. He was my first. Despite all the rumors the bitches at my school were spreading behind my back, I was still a virgin. I lost my virginity to that prick one night in my room. I had just turned seventeen. My mom was home, in fact she had passed out on her sleeping pills on the couch just outside my bedroom—and I didn’t even have a lock. I just got fed up and wanted to get back at her, so I ditched ‘virgin status’ and had the worst first experience ever.”

I couldn’t even imagine what that was like.

“Mom went through my garbage the next day and found the condom wrapper. She said she was ‘cleaning,’ but I knew she was snooping. I was so pissed off and I didn’t even deny it when she interrogated me. The whole thing was blown out of proportion and my grandmother found out. I loved her so much and I didn’t want her to be disappointed in me. I could never forgive my mom for telling her. That was just fucking pointless. She did it out of spite. I felt like such a disgrace and lost all self-respect. At one point I just said, fuck it. That’s when my erratic behavior started. I thought that if my boyfriend won’t let me break up with him, I’ll cheat on his ass until he realizes that I really don’t give a fuck anymore. And I did just that, started dating every hot guy that showed interest in me, and so many did. It was like a power trip. My mother raised me inside this box. Growing up I always felt like a nerd, an ugly duckling, and then I transformed into this swan that everybody wanted. Once I broke free out of that prison, so many things corrupted me.”

She identified herself as a sexual play thing for men from an early age.

“Anyway, I constantly told my ex that we were over and that I was dating another guy, but he would just show up at my door almost every day like a stalker and try to get me to stay with him. He had taken nude photos of me at one point in our relationship. I was always afraid that he would leak them out at my school since he made constant threats. He wouldn’t leave me alone and I felt trapped. When my family finally moved, he started sending me hate mail and threatening me more. He just made me miserable and I thought it was all my fault.”

“It wasn’t.” I couldn’t hold my silence any longer. “Ava, it wasn’t. You were just a teenager, he was the adult. He should’ve known better. He took advantage of you, bullied, and blackmailed you. He was a spineless piece of shit.”

“Whatever, I’m over it you know. Even if he did leak those photos on the internet, I don’t even want to know about it. I’d rather stay blissfully ignorant.”

She wasn’t crying, but I could see the painful shards of memories shattering in her eyes like mirrored glass.

“When was the last time you harmed yourself?”

“I harm myself every day, Logan. Just look at the Vodka bottles around you, you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“You know what I’m referring to.”

She sighed and covered her eyes with her arm. “Last year. I guess you could say it was sort of a relapse kind of thing.”

“Why did you do it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I know it’s stupid and dumb, and I feel even more idiotic after I do it because I’m angry at others, yet I take it out on myself. Like what the fuck, you know? Why should I punish myself for it?”

I could tell that she internalized all her emotions, perhaps because she didn’t trust me.

“Is there anyone in your life that you feel comfortable opening up to?”

Ava removed her arm and looked straight at me. “Yes,”

“Who?”

“My diary.”

“That’s not a person, Ava.”

“Which is exactly why I feel comfortable opening up to it. I don’t trust anyone.”

That was no secret.

“And you just had to open it up and read it,” she derisively added.

“To be fair, I only read a few pages.”

“That was more than enough.”

“Are you worried that I might’ve discovered a murder confession?” I tried to lighten her mood.

“Hah, I wish. I do have a hit list. I just keep it in my head.”

“Wise,” I chuckled.

“Well, you know what they say… through time and countless fuck ups, comes wisdom.” She smiled sardonically.

“Edgy quote.”

“What can I say? I’m an edgy personality.”

I pulled her arm towards me and began to kiss her scars.

“What are you doing?” Ava sulked. “Stop that.”

“Why?”

She yanked her arm away and held it protectively to her chest. “Because I don’t like it.”

“I don’t think any less of you.”

“I don’t care if you do.” She turned her head in the opposite direction.

“I think a part of you does.” I shifted on top of her, maneuvering myself in between her thighs. Now her eyes were on me.

“Are you finally going to fuck me now?” Ava wrapped her arms around my neck and opened her legs more.

“Is that what you want?”

She nodded, grinding her hips up against me.

“Is that what you really want?” I whispered, lowering my lips to her sensuous mouth.

“Yes,” Ava kept nodding, her breathing picking up.

“Too bad I won’t give it to you.” I finally crushed my lips against hers and felt her fingernails dragging down my chest. Her kiss was hard and aggressive, as she fought for control.

“Ava…” I tried to speak, but she kept kissing me relentlessly.

“No more talking.” She slipped her tongue into my mouth, flicking it wildly against mine. I managed to pin her wrists back and kissed my way down her neck.

“Don’t you just want to fuck me senseless with that throbbing cock of yours?”

Yes, I did, so badly.

“Hard, deep, penetration,” a breathy moan escaped her lips. “Fuck me till you explode and fill me up…”

“Not tonight,” I breathed, kissing her lips again. I was painfully hard, but I wouldn’t dishonor the promise I made to myself.

“But—I want to.”

I stopped what I was doing and just stared at her. “Let me kiss you. Why can’t you just enjoy it?”

“Because I want more.”

“How do you feel when I’m inside you?”

“Why do we always have to talk about my feelings?”

“Because when I have sex with you, all I can feel is emotion.”

I couldn’t help but notice the way the candle light complimented her skin tone. She looked beautiful. Crazy beautiful.

“Well, how wonderful for you,” Ava said with Sarcasm. She reached down and tried to unfasten the button on my trousers, but I stopped her.

“Keep your hands away from my pants.”

“I can feel how hard you are.” She bit her bottom lip in a really sexual way.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” I kissed her slow and passionately, hoping that she would surrender to my will.

Her lips were just so addictive, I couldn’t get enough. She was so broken inside, but all I could feel as I was kissing her, was this desperate need to complete her. I couldn’t reverse time, but I was confident that I could super glue all her shattered pieces with unconditional...

I realized right then that I was falling in love with her. I was damaged inside too, which explained why I was single for so long and had never been in love. I knew there must’ve been a man in the picture who had truly devastated her. Ava had experienced the blissful feelings of being in love, even though she was adamant to convince me that she wasn’t capable of loving anyone. Her problem was crystal clear to me; she couldn’t trust. I couldn’t love, and she couldn’t trust a soul. But if there was hope for me, then why wouldn’t there be hope for her?

I felt her teeth sink into my neck, as I groaned in pain and pleasure.

“Fuck… Ava…”

“I want your body,” she breathed between violent kisses.

“You have it.” I kissed her shoulder and grazed my lips down her chest. Her supple breasts were slightly popping out of her bra. With an expert tongue, I slowly twirled it around her left nipple and lightly sucked on it, teasing her. She moaned in satisfaction and ran her fingers through my hair. After a while, I decided to turn my attention on her other nipple before I slowly kissed my way down her stomach.

“Tell me what you want right now.” I glided my bottom lip around her navel and glanced up at her. To say that she looked hot and bothered was an understatement.

“I want you to pull out your cock, jerk it off in front of me, and slip my panties to the side. And then I want you to spit on my swollen clit and slap your big fat head on it until I beg you to ram it in.”

Fuck me, that’s hot.

“What else?” I licked her pelvic bone and gripped her thighs.

“I… I…” she breathed harder, unable to focus.

I was about to pull her panties down and pleasure her, when her phone rang. She didn’t reach for it, so I continued with my initial task. But once again, the cellphone kept ringing.

“Don’t you want to answer that?”

“Ignore it.”

“It could be important,” I said, hovering over her.

“It’s not.” She grabbed her phone and turned it off. “It was an unknown number.”

I kissed her stomach and continued to tease her more. The foreplay wasn’t going to lead to sex, I just wanted to make her feel good.

“Don’t stop.”

She gave me the green light and I was ready to eat her up, but stopped when I heard a knock on the door.

“Are you expecting company?”

“No,” Ava leaned forward on her hands.

I stood up to help her on her feet.

“You might want to put on a robe or something,” I suggested, but it was pointless because she didn’t care.

I watched her turn on the light in the hallway and look through the peephole in her door. But as soon as she did, she started backing away.

“Ava? Ava what’s wrong?”

I immediately grew concerned and strode to her side.

“Him… him… it’s him… I can’t… I can’t be here… I can’t…” she was panicking almost to the point of hyperventilating. “How… how did he find… how did he find me?” Her hands were shaking and there was fear in her voice.

The knocking continued louder this time. When I looked through the peephole, I saw a young man with short, caramel hair, dressed in a black and red jacket and blue jeans.

“Don’t!” she cried out in a whisper. “Please don’t tell him I live here!”

“Who is he?” I whispered back.

“The fatal ex.”

“Your first boyfriend?”

“No!” she dug her hands in her hair and paced around in panic.

“Ava, I need to know who he is,” I voiced in a hush tone.

She finally faced me and said, “The fatal ex who broke my heart last year.” It was the first time I saw her look so defeated and vulnerable, as the tears kept flowing.

“Please, Logan. Please don’t tell him...”

“Hide in your bedroom, I got this.”

That was all I needed to know.

Ava disappeared in a flash and I put on my stern, brooding face before I opened the door.

Author’s Note: Thank you to my bestie Charzi for helping me through my writers block. Love you babes