MIKO
He is driving me crazy.
There is someone vying for my attention, touching my chest, face, and nails, digging on my thighs. It's irritating, making me recoil in disgust, and yet I can't pull away.
Not if I want to remain in my seat. I am afraid that if I move an inch, I will find myself walking to him.
Jude is dancing with a girl, body gyrating in such a way that my throat is dry, even as I drink some more, eyes glued to him.
Fuck those jeans.
They are snug on his ass I can see his dick print from where I am seated, despite the strobe of lights. I don't miss how his hands touch her.
Is he liking her body? Does it feel softer than my own is?
The streak of jealousy that trickles down my throat is bitter. Cold. Clawing.
"You are so sexy," someone purrs, and I look at her, finally.
"You're pretty too," I lie through my teeth, even as I smirk, not feeling her. Not feeling anyone but the one boy who had decided to drive me fucking insane tonight. The boy I can't touch.
