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JADEs POV
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She wasn't like the others.
No matter how much I toyed with her, how close I leaned in, how much heat I pushed between us, she never unfolded. She burned from the inside, sure- I could see it in her eyes, in the way her fingers trembled when I touched her wrist. But she never gave in.
And damn, it was driving me insane.
This damn scarved girl.
She had this way of pulling back just when I thought I had her. Every other girl melted under a smirk, under a touch, a promise, a threat. But her? She flinched. She stared. She held.
Strong.
Too strong.
I wanted to break her walls.
I needed to know what was behind that scarf and that silence.
Not her face. Her.
Because lately, every time I closed my eyes, she was there. Not moaning my name, not begging for me like others did. Just staring. Challenging me.
And I hated that I wanted her more because of it.
At lunch, I saw her sitting alone at the edge of the quad. Same spot, same scarf, same invisible barrier around her.
But today, something was different.
She was restless. I could see it in the way she kept playing with the pen in her hands like it was some kind of puzzle she didn't want to solve. Her eyes kept flicking up, catching mine, and darting away. Like she was trying to pretend I wasn't staring.
But I was. Hard.
I leaned against the wall just far enough to watch, just close enough to feel the static.
My eyes traced the way she sat. Her fingers twitched. Her shoulders curled in like she was trying to shrink into the scarf.
I tilted my head.
How do I get through to you?
How do I break past all that cold?
I wanted her to notice. To squirm under my stare. To get warm under the collar and think about me when I wasn't around.
And I think she did.
I ran a hand through my hair, watching her fidget. My eyes dropped to her lips, mostly covered, and something low and primal stirred in my gut.
I wanted to taste her silence.
Wanted her to fall apart in my hands.
But not here.
No. After school. That's when I'd do it. When the noise faded and she couldn't hide in the crowd.
After school and went out and waited in the dark hallway. She uses this route. She thinks I wouldn't notice.
Leaning against the wall, bag slung lazily over my shoulder, expression cool. But my mind wasn't calm.
She came out alone. As usual.
The scarf was high. Her pace was quick.
But I stepped in front of her.
"Hey."
She stopped. Her breath caught.
I didn't let her speak.
I stepped closer, slow and intentional, lowering my voice so it hit right where I wanted.
"Would you like to go on a date?"
She stared at me.
"W-What?"
"Would you like to go on a date?" I repeated, firmer.
Her eyes narrowed. "W-why w-would I like that?"
That flicker.
God.
I laughed under my breath and leaned just an inch closer.
"Oh, cold. Where did you get that flicker in you?"
I saw her scarf move.
I reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair that had escaped her scarf. My fingers lingered near her jaw.
"Okay then, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Let's meet on Saturday around 10 a.m. near the school gate. Since I don't know where you live. And don't say no... or you'll regret it. Trust me."
She looked like she might combust.
Perfect.
I stepped in even closer, and lowered my head. My lips found her forehead through the scarf.
But this time, it wasn't just soft.
It was hot.
Claiming.
My hand slid briefly to her waist, not pushing, not pulling- just resting. Feeling. Possessing.
She trembled.
Then she jerked back, eyes wide.
"W-what do you want from me?" she asked, breathless.
I smiled.
"Everything."
And I turned and walked off.
Not to be cool.
But because if I stayed any longer, I might have pulled her into me and kissed her right there in the hallway.
And I wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
I didn't want to frighten her. Or push her away.
Later that day, I sat at the edge of the back field bleachers with Max and Callum.
The sky was dull. The wind restless.
Max tossed a stone at the dirt.
"So, you said you got it," he said, without looking at me. "But it seems like the girl got to you."
I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean? Don't you know me anymore? She's clever. Stronger than I thought."
Max scoffed. "Oh please. What type of excuse is that?"
Callum stretched out on the bench, his usual detached smirk in place. "Sounds like our boy's losing his edge."
"Come on, you know me," I said sharply.
Max turned to face me fully now. "Nah. I don't. I'm making a move on her."
My jaw clenched. "You wouldn't dare."
"Watch me."
Max stared like he was daring me to object. To say another words
And I didn't. Not then.
I'd be giving them something they could use.
So I just smirked and said, "Do what you want. Just don't get burned."
Inside, I was boiling.
She was mine.
They didn't get to touch what I hadn't even unwrapped yet.
They didn't get to break her down just because she made me wait.
Because I was going to break her first.
Not cruelly. Not with lies.
But with something worse.
Curiosity.
She wanted to know why I looked at her like I did.
Soon, she would beg for the answer.
And I wouldn't give it.
Not until..
Not until she stood in front of me with her guard up and her eyes open.
And then I'd kiss her without warning.
Hard.
Deep.
Until she couldn't remember what fear tasted like.
When I got home the moonlight slid through the blinds like blades, striping my wall in silver. I lay on my bed, shirtless, one arm thrown over my eyes, the other sprawled across the sheets.
Sleep didn't come.
Not when I could still taste the heat of her skin on my lips.
Not when my mind replayed the look in her eyes- confusion, fear, defiance- every damn second.
I let out a slow breath, my chest rising.
She was making this harder than it had to be.
I should've already had her.
Girls like her don't usually make it this far.
But her silence? Her resistance? That maddening stillness?
It was fuel.
I ran my tongue across my teeth, turning my head to stare at the ceiling. Then I grinned to myself.
She thought I wanted her heart?
No, baby girl.
I just want your body beneath mine. Still and shaky and wrecked.
I want to be the first to make that scarf fall off.
I want to know what sound you make when you finally stop resisting.
And maybe I want you to cry while it happens.
Not because I hurt you.
But because I own it.
Because you finally realize you lost the game.
I sat up in bed, the sheets slipping down to my waist. I reached for my phone, opening her number- the one I got from that girl in admin who always stared too long at my arms.
Still no name saved.
Still no profile pic.
I typed a message and hovered over "send," smirking.
But I didn't press it.
Not yet.
I wanted her to miss me first. To wonder.
To think she had a moment of peace before I came and shattered it.
I rose from the bed, the wood floor cold under my feet as I walked toward the mirror. My reflection stared back- mussed hair, sharp jaw, hungry eyes.
I was going to have her.
Saturday.
No matter how long it took or how much she pulled away, I'd make her fall under me like they all did.
And when she did...
When that scarf dropped...
She wouldn't get to put it back on.
Not after what I planned.
Still in front of the mirror, I tilted my head.
Mhmm.
She wasn't like the others who cracked open with a wink and a hand on the thigh.
She needed something else.
Something softer.
Something she didn't expect from me.
Emotion.
Vulnerability.
I ran a hand through my hair and gave a hollow laugh.
Yeah. That would do it.
Or instead of rushing things.
I'd show her a different side- quiet, bruised, raw. I'd give her pieces of a boy she thinks is breaking too.
Let her feel seen.
Let her feel needed.
I'd talk about how miserable my life is.
Not lies.
But not truth either.
Just enough to make her step closer instead of flinching away.
I could already see it:
Me sitting next to her on a bench, pretending I couldn't hold it together anymore. Voice low, gaze glassy, saying something like—
> "You remind me of her. Of someone who stayed. Who didn't leave me like the rest."
She'd blink.
Maybe even touch my arm.
Maybe even whisper something soft and unsure.
And that's when I'd catch her eyes. That's when I'd lean in again.
Not fast. Not flirty.
Slow.
Like I cared.
Like it meant something.
I smiled to myself- calculated, sharp.
She wouldn't even see it coming.
One moment she's pulling away, the next she's the one leaning forward.
And when that happened?
When she finally reached for me?
That would be the night I finally took her.
Not just her body.
But her pride.
Her silence.
Her precious little control.
I'd kiss her like it meant forever, just so she never forgot it was only a game.
And after that?
I'd walk away like I never cared in the first place.