#ichabod

You were a rule follower, always did what you were told, never complained, did what everyone expected of you. A straight A student. If a student wanted you to do their homework? No problem! A teacher needing you to run all over campus to give students flyers for something unimportant because the teacher didn’t want to do it? Leave the task up to you! Your coworker giving you their shifts because they didn’t want to work? More money for you!

You always did your work for your classes, then did others, making sure everyone was happy with what you can do for them, how you benefited them. It didn’t matter what they wanted, you gave it up because it was the rules, right? You were lower than them, beneath them.

If they told you to lick their shoes clean, you’d do it in a heartbeat! Because that’s what you were. Scum. Nothing important but their little pet. At least, that's what people tell you, it's what you believe.

And guess what? Your hard work has been paying off! Now you sit at a round table that wasn't by the trash cans! Still alone, but a table that doesn't smell of garbage is a step up in your book. At least the smell wouldn't distract you from your and other students' homework.

You had hoped that when the popular girl came up to you that she'd tell you that you have been invited to one of their parties, but you'll take whatever they can give you. It's a step up in this society.

When you got your tray of food from the cafeteria, it only took you a few steps to your table to realize that someone was at your table. You stopped in your tracks, blinking.

No one had dared to even set foot at your table because everyone knew that the popular students gave you that table. All for you. So why was there a person there? At YOUR table, nonetheless!

You gripped your tray tightly, annoyed that someone could even do that. You couldn't see their face. Was it a girl? A boy? It didn't matter, that was your table! You let out a soft sigh before starting to walk to your table.

Once you were at your designated table, you slammed your tray down, rattling your food and the person's. They didn't even look up from their food, too busy chewing on their cold mashed potatoes.

You cleared your throat, which then made them look up at you, finally giving them your attention.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You were taken aback from their appearance. It was a guy! A really… handsome and attractive guy.

His skin looked like he had been kissed from the Sun, attractively tan. His brown hair was long and messy, with a piece of it in a small braid on the side of his face, his ears had been adorned with different piercings, some looked like they hurt more than others, along with an eyebrow piercing at the edge of his eyebrow. His lips had piercings too, or well, only two that made it look like he had fangs on his bottom lip. His eyes were a deep azure blue, they were beautiful. His outfit contained only the color black and gray, with a necklace that was an upside down cross.

He really was attractive. And this attractive guy was at your table! He raised an eyebrow, seeing how you were staring too hard at him. You shook your head, trying to not think about how hot this guy was and to go back to your original objective. Getting him away from your table!

You cleared your throat, readying yourself to speak. “You're sitting at the wrong table.”

He stared at you for a long moment, long enough to make you feel squeamish. He pushed his tray away, his arms crossed on the table, clearly not wanting to move. He tilted his head slightly to you, his braid moving as he did.

“There's right and wrong tables now?” He asked, his voice sounded like a soft angel talking to you. You swallowed, trying to not think too much about it as you nodded.

“Y-Yes, you're sitting at the wrong table. Please move to a different one.” You said, asking nicely for him to move. But he didn't. He leaned back in the chair, tilting his head to the other side now, keeping his arms crossed over his chest now.

“And who says that there's a right and wrong table to sit at?” He asked, clearly amused by how you were trying to get him to leave. You felt your face twitch, trying to not show how annoyed you were getting. His questions were getting on your nerves. Why couldn't he just move and leave you alone? You didn't have time for his games.

You sighed, claiming defeat as you pulled out your chair across from him to sit down. He clicked his tongue, pouting but unable to hide the corners of his lips from twitching upwards.

“Awe, tired of bantering with me now?” He asked, his tone playful and amused, but you ignored him, unzipping your bag to take out a textbook and a few pages of other students' homework that was due after lunch.

He leaned in now, leaning in close to read the names of the people of the papers, his tray pushed aside.

“Are those yours?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, reading the names. You covered them with your arm, keeping him from reading them.

“Yes.” You said, a simple answer, right? But it didn't satisfy him. His eyes trailed up your face, his expression unamused now than it was a few seconds ago.

“So you have three different names?” He pressed on, his crossed arms on the table again. God, you wished he'd look away.

“Does it matter to you?” You asked, taking out a pen to get to work, hoping that the conversation would end. But it didn't.

“Yes.”

You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “Yes? How could something like a name be interesting to you?” You asked, becoming curious by his insistence to talk to you about names.

He shrugged, looking at your untouched food then back at you. “It could be because you're doing other students' homework when you aren't supposed to. Or maybe… I just want to know your name.”

You blinked at him, setting your pen down on the papers. “You want to know my name?”

He nodded, looking at you with those blue eyes of his, the same eyes you could get lost in if you're not careful when looking into them. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him, picking up your pencil to go back to finishing others' work. 

“Why would anyone want to know my name?” You asked, more like muttering to yourself as you wrote things down for a student. But he heard it, his eyes reading the words that fell from your lips, tracking each connection your lips made when you spoke.

“What if I give you a name?” He asked, unfolding his arms now, stretching them on the table. You stopped for a moment to look at him, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Give me a name? Like a nickname?” He nodded, placing his hand on his cheek, his elbow on the table, his blue eyes twinkling with new amusement.

“Yes, if you don't want me to know your name, then I'll give you a nickname. How's that?” He asked, giving you a small smile that was less assuring than anything, like he was messing with you.

You sighed, waving a hand at him, looking at the paper again. “Whatever gets you to stop talking and to let me do my work.” You said, not sparing him anymore of your attention.

“Alright, Starlight.” He said softly, his arms crossed on the table again, laying his head on his arms. Your hand stuttered for a second, your eyes snapping back to his, seeing the mischief in his eyes.

“Starlight?” You repeated the nickname softly, which he nodded his head on his arms, his teasing smile widening.

“Yes. It's perfect for you, no?” He asked, not elaborating on the name or why he even suggested it. You sighed, giving in and telling your name to him softly. It was better than hearing him call you the nickname he picked out.

He repeated your name softly, as if testing it out with his own voice. But the way he said it… it made your stomach do a little flip on itself. He looked up at you again, tilting his head slightly to see you better, a small happy smile on his lips now, still teasing but happy.

“It's perfect for you.” He whispered softly, too softly for your taste. You felt your face get hot and looked away from him, clearing your throat once more.

“W-What’s yours.. since you know mine now.” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pen, suddenly feeling nervous now.

He didn't say anything at first, as if seeing how uncomfortable you'd get before he spoke. “Jericho, but… I'd rather you call me Crowe instead.” He said, his eyes averting away from you for a moment.

You looked at him again, repeating his name in your head. Crowe.. it sounded familiar to you, but you couldn't place the name anywhere. You shrugged it off and gave him a small smile, holding out your hand now to shake his.

“Well, Crowe, you can stay as long as you let me do the rest of my work.” You said, a small compromise that you slightly hoped that he'd accept. He looked at your hand, then at you, then back at your hand, hesitating before moving his hand to wrap around yours, shaking it a little. His hand felt oddly warm around yours, and slightly wet like he was sweating. His touch lingered more than necessary, his looking into yours.

“Ok then.”

And that was the beginning of a somewhat good friendship, or at least that is what you started to believe. Crowe would sit with you the rest of that week, watching you as you finished other students’ homework. He'd always sit across from you, occasionally striking up conversations that you'd comply in, talking to him as you did your work. He was becoming your one and, seemingly, only good friend.

You never knew how much you had in common with Crowe! Like how you both love the stars and the night, the smell of books, everything peaceful instead of the chaos of the world. You both even love blueberry pie! You’ve debated on whether or not to make some for the both of you, as a little “thank you” for him being your friend. But why would you thank someone for being your friend? Is it because he hasn’t made fun of you yet? Or maybe it’s because he actually listens to what you have to say, no matter how dumb or ignorant you sound? You may have to ask him…

On the fifth day of your newfound friendship, today, Crowe had decided to sit closer to you, not right beside you, but just an arms length away. You were talking to him about this astronomy book you had recently found in the school’s library near the back of the library.

You were interrupted by someone roughly tugging on your hair, making you wince in pain, looking over to see who it was. Jeremy. The school’s top football player, who often plays with a guy named Deryl, who also happens to be the school’s top football player. But Jeremy was the total opposite of Deryl, mean and ruthless. Also the top bully to pick on you and make you do his work.

“Hey there, lil’ doggy. I’ve been lookin’ for ya.” Jeremy said with a smirk playing on his lips. He still hadn’t let go of your hair. Your eye twitched but you stayed calm, your hands ruffling the ends of your shirt. His friends’ snickered behind him at the new nickname he had come up with for you. Always a new nickname.

“What is it that you need, Jeremy?” You asked, your voice soft, avoiding his gaze.

Jeremy lets go of your hair to reach into his bag, taking out some papers and slamming it on the table, making you flinch a little. Jeremy smirked at that, seeing how he can make you flinch without even touching you. He leaned down close to your face, but you made sure to not look at him, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing the fear in your eyes. If Jeremy was a bloodhound, he’d definitely be able to smell the fear coming off of you, hell, he might even smell it now from how close his face was to yours.

“I need you to do these math problems for me. And this time, dumb it down for the teacher, yes? He doesn’t need to know that I’m not doing the work, and he’s getting suspicious on why I sound so smart on paper—” He tapped on the paper with his index finger, keeping his face close to yours. His breath smelled of beef jerky and mountain dew. Gross. “—and not smart off paper. Can you do that for me, lil’ doggy?”

You nodded, hoping that he would just go away and leave you alone. But he didn’t go away, not yet at least. He reached up, patting the top of your head slowly, like he would a dog.

“Good girl. You listen so well.” He whispered softly to you, his fingers running through your hair now. He touched the ends of your hair, twisting them between his thumb and index finger. “I wonder how well you’ll listen to me for… other things.”

Suddenly, a chair scraped back beside you, startling you to look over to find Crowe had stood up from his seat, glaring at Jeremy. Seemingly to take notice of your friend, Jeremy looked away from you to look at Crowe, raising an eyebrow, clearly uninterested in him.

“That’s enough.” Crowe’s voice was stern and cold, his eyes dark with something you didn’t want to know what. But it has scared you. Just a little. 

“Who the hell are you?” Jeremy asked, standing up slowly from leaning over, still holding your hair in his fingers. He had no intent on letting go just yet.

“Let go of her.” Crose dismissed the question, his eyes narrowing while looking at the jock. “You gave her your papers. Just go away now.”

The jock scoffed, as if baffled that anyone would stand up for you. He tugged on your hair again, hard enough to make you wince and make a small sound of pain. Crowe took a step forward, as if he was going to stop him, but Jeremy spoke, stopping Crowe. 

“You’re standing up for this little shit?” He pointed to you with his free hand, still gripping your hair. “Why would anyone wanna do that? You got a lil’ crush on her or something?” He asked condescendingly, chuckling as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

“Let go of her and leave her alone.” Crowe restated. You looked down at Crowe’s hand to find it curled into a ball, his knuckles white from how tightly he was holding his fist, as if fighting himself back on throwing a punch.

“Hey… you know, you look familiar. Where have I seen you before?” Jeremy asked, finally letting go of your hair, raising his hand up to cup his chin, as if he was thinking. He moved around your chair, moving to get closer to Crowe, getting a better look at him.

Crowe didn’t back down, though, he seemed to stand up slightly straighter, as if letting him take a good look at him, daring him to look closer.

Jeremy tilted his head a little, contemplating where he had seen Crowe before. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers, as if finally figuring it out. “Oh, that’s right! I remember now.” He started, placing a hand on your shoulder, making you jump a little from the sudden feeling of his hard grip there. He pointed to Crowe, a knowing smile on his face.

“I remember you from last year. You’re the freak who was outside the girls restroom. The freak trying to take pictures of–” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence when Crowe had enough and threw a punch at the jocks face hard, earning a loud wet crunch. Hard enough to make the jock stumble backwards, letting go of you as he groaned.

You jumped up out of your seat, gasping, watching Jeremy holding his nose with his hand. Droplets of blood poured out of his hand and onto the once white floor. He moved his hand from his nose, which made you let out another terrified gasp, along with a few other students’ gasps when they heard some commotion happening.

Jeremy’s nose looked twisted, dark red liquid dripping down his nose and onto his chin and shirt, then on the floor. You looked over to Crowe’s hand, seeing it unclenched and slightly bloody from where he had hit the jock. Jeremy cupped his nose again, glaring at Crowe.

“You- You sick fuck! You broke my nose! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Then he pointed at you, making you take a step backwards to the table, trembling. “You! You knew he was going to do this, didn’t you?! You fucking freak!”

You stuttered on your words, tears stinging your eyes, threatening to fall if you didn’t stop them.

No. No, I would never! I didn’t know! The words clammed up in your throat, unable to escape you as the tears you tried to hold back started to fall, a lump building in your throat. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but only a few small gasps came out.

You felt someone grab your hand, pulling you to start running in the opposite direction of the chaos that was starting to unfold. You look to see Crowe dragging you away from them, your vision blurry from your tears.

“Stop them! Get those fuckers!” You heard Jeremy call out, but no one made a move to stop you two as Crowe pulled you away, his hand wrapped around your wrist.

Crowe kept pulling you until he pushed open an emergency stairs exit door, opening it just enough to get you inside. He ran down a few flights of stairs before stopping, letting you two catch your breath. He didn't let go of your hand as he leaned against the cool wall, both of you panting heavily from running.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire. Maybe you should do a little more exercising more often.

You looked down at his hand still holding your wrist, staring at it before yanking your hand away from him, making him jerk forward a little.

“Hey, what-”

“What's your problem?!” You yelled at him, keeping a somewhat good distance away from him, holding your wrist with your hand now. He shushed you, in case there were still students around. There probably wasn't, but neither of you could know that.

“Keep your voice down, you'll get us caught if you keep yelling.” He whispered-spoke to you.

But you didn't care. You didn't care if someone heard you, you didn't care if someone caught you and him. You were angry at Crowe for what he had done, angry that you let him hit Jeremy, angry at yourself for not stopping it when you knew something bad was going to happen.

“Why did you do that?!” You continued, glaring at him through your watery eyes, tears threatening to fall once again. He blinked, taken aback by the tears in your eyes. 

“Do you know what you have done? Do you know what you just cost me?” You asked him, tears starting to fall down your cheeks to your chin. You were an ugly cryer, but you didn't care at this moment, you didn't care if you let him see past your broken facade of a perfect student, the perfect target for people.

His brows furrowed, watching you as you try to keep yourself together, but failing. He reached out and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you a little.

“Did you hear what he was saying? Were you listening when he was basically asking what you’d do for him in bed?” He asked, his hands gripping your shoulders tightly, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know that he was there, trying to get some sense into you.

You batted his hands away, wiping your tear-stained face. “It doesn’t matter what he was insinuating. You shouldn’t have done what you did.” You told him, sniffling. You crossed your arms over your chest, not looking at him.

He bit his inner cheek, as if contemplating something. He sighed softly, reaching out to place his hand back on your shoulder, his touch gentler and softer now.

“Look, I’m sorry if what I did had ruined.. whatever you had with them. But I am not sorry that I did it. He deserved it for being such a dick.” Crowe gently turned you enough to make you look at him. He looked sincere, like he was actually sorry that he might’ve ruined your reputation.

You hesitated before speaking, your voice soft. “It’s.. ok. I forgive you… just don’t do it again.”

He smiled a little and nodded, finally letting go of your shoulder. Now that you thought about it, you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped you as you wiped your face again with your sleeve.

“It was kind of funny how he looked after you punched him.”

Crowe chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Yea? Well, now he looks ten times better than he did before.” You sort of laughed at that, though, you couldn’t help the little feeling you had when he wrapped his arm around you.

You looked at his hand from the corner of your eyes, seeing his hand still a little bloody and bruised from when he punched Jeremy. It scared you a little, seeing how Crowe had easily broken his nose.

“We should probably get your hand cleaned and to the nurse.” You finally said, looking away from his hand. He shrugged, seemingly unbothered by his small injury.

“It’s fine. It’ll heal over. I’ve had worse ones than that.”

Worse ones? What does that mean? Before you could question him, Crowe started to walk down the stairs. Since he had his arm around you, you began walking with him as well, startled by it.

“We should go, before they catch us. We can go to my place, it’s close by.” He said, not waiting for your response as you two went down the stairs.

“But our things-”

“They’ll still be here when we come back on Monday.” He interrupted you, and that was that.

You walked with him out of the school, his arm still around your shoulders. Whenever you tried to move his arm, his grip would tighten slightly, as if he didn’t want you to move away from him, so instead you let him hold you like that.

But, if you were being honest, it felt a little… strange. It might’ve seemed like you two were a couple instead of friends. But it didn’t seem to bother Crowe, in fact, he seemed to pull you slightly closer to him when other people looked at the two of you. Strange indeed.

When you arrive at a large house, he finally lets go of you to head up the white porch. You blinked, looking up. It was a two story house that looked well cared for. The house was painted a pastel blue with white trims around it. It looked… nice. The porch was white, along with a white porch swing with a few throw pillows on it.

You looked back at him, his back facing you as he reached down, moving the corner of the door mat and picking up something that you could have guessed to be a key.

“This is your house?” You asked, stepping up to the porch. He turned back to look at you, his hand on the doorknob. 

“Well, sort of. It’s my Aunt’s place. But she’s not here right now, so I’m just staying here alone for a while.” He turned back, unlocking the door and opening it for you. You climbed up the stairs of his porch and went inside, making sure to take your shoes off at the door. He did the same, closing the door behind him.

You looked around, seeing how spacious and clean the house was. It looked bigger on the inside than it did on the outside.

His house looked like it could be in a magazine!

Noticing your gaze, he couldn't help but chuckle, gently grabbing your hand. The sudden warmth of his hand on yours made your heart stutter. For whatever reason.

“C'mon, I'll show you to my room.” He started dragging you along up the stairs, not waiting to hear your protests. Not that you had any, anyways, you were a little curious to see what his room had looked like.

He opened a door to one of the upstairs bedrooms, letting you enter first. You let go of his hand, though he reached out to grab it again, he stopped himself, keeping his hands to himself.

You entered the room, surprised to find everything clean and not so… dark. Was that the right word? 

His room was spacious, his bed against the middle of the wall, a nightstand on each side of his bed, his dresser on the other side of the wall by his bathroom, facing the bed, burnt orange colored curtains covered the windows, not letting any sun in, but some of the rays had snuck past the curtains, lighting up his wood floors.

There were a few posters hanging up, a few bands you had heard before but don't listen to frequently. Bookshelves full of different types of books, none that you could read from afar. There was a desk near the corner of his room, covered in papers and books that were either closed or open to a certain page. A mirror hung above the dresser and above his bed.

Your brows furrowed at the sight of a mirror above his bed. Why would he need that there? Does he like to watch himself sleep or something?

Noticing your glance, he waved a hand dismissively, not even explaining why he had it in the first place. “Just decoration.”

Right. Decoration.

You didn't question him, despite some part screaming at you to, as you took a seat on his bed, trying to not glance up at the mirror. He sat down at his desk, facing you.

Neither of you spoke, but the more you looked at him, the more he seemed a little nervous. He kept his hands in his lap, his eyes avoiding yours. He didn't look nervous, but you can still tell.

You glanced down at his hand, remembering his bruises and bloody hand. The blood was dried now, but it still made you queasy just from looking at it. You shot up from his bed, startling him in the process.

“First aid kit. Do you have one?” You asked, needing something to do other than to sit in awkward silence.

He pointed to his bathroom, which you immediately headed to. You opened a few cabinets before finding the mini first aid kit. You came back to the bedroom with it, walking to the desk he was at, setting the first aid kit down and opening it.

He watched you, his eyes lingering on your face as you gently picked up his hand, holding it in yours. You didn't seem to notice the longing in his eyes as you got an alcohol wipe from the mini box.

You dabbed it gently on his knuckles, an attempt to clean the blood, which earned a soft hiss from him, his hand twitching slightly in yours. Seems like he got a few cuts just from punching a guy.

“Sorry.” You muttered softly, continuing to gently dab the wipe on his knuckles.

He didn't even notice the pain anymore as he kept looking up at you, his lips parted slightly as he watched you focus on treating his wounds. His heart began to race a little from how close you were now, how you stood between his legs. He could wrap his arms and legs around you if he wanted to.

He did want to. But he didn't, he stayed still. Just for you.

You set the now bloody wipe down on the desk, getting a good look at his hand. His knuckles were red and bruised, a few cuts had appeared on them as well. It didn't really make any sense, how cuts can just form after punching someone. They must be old wounds.

You didn't question him as you grabbed a few bandages, opening them to place them on his knuckles.

You remembered what Jeremy had said, or tried to. You didn't look at him when you spoke up, as if you were a little afraid of what Crowe would say. “Jeremy had said something, before you had harmed him. That you… were looking in the girls bathroom. Is that true?” You didn't look at him, you couldn't, not when your face burned when you thought about him peeking and taking pictures of the girls in the bathroom.

His hand tightened in yours again, but he didn't say anything, not for a long beat. “He's full of shit.” He finally said, his voice low. His words had eased something inside you, glad to know that he hadn't done that last year.

Instead, you placed the second bandage on his knuckle, your thumb brushing over them.

“You have to be careful and not do things like that.” You said softly to him, referring to hurting others like before. He watched your mouth move, but he wasn't really listening to the words you were saying anymore.

You looked at him, finally noticing how he was looking at you, noticing how close you two were suddenly. You kept a hold of his hand, though you felt him squeeze your hand gently, as if seeing if you were really there in front of him, like his eyes were deceiving him. They weren't.

You looked down at his now clean and bandaged hand, seeing how his fingers curled around yours. You didn't know why or what compelled you to do such a thing, but you raised your hand up to place a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Your lips lingered on his hand before pulling away, looking at him. His blue eyes were wide and his cheeks darker than before, his mouth slightly wider than it had been moments ago. He hadn't expected you to kiss his wound.

He swallowed hard and looked away, using his hair as an attempt to hide his face. “I'm not.. a child.” He muttered out softly.

Seeing him so shy than he usually is, it did something to your heart, and you didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. You smiled softly nonetheless.

“But did it feel good?” 

He didn't answer, but he squeezed your hand again, as if that was answer enough.

You let go of his hand and moved back to his bed, plopping yourself down on it, laying back fully and looking up at the ceiling, staring at yourself in his mirror.

Today has been troublesome. You don't even know if you should go back to school after the events that happened today. Sure, Jeremy did deserve what he got. If you were being honest, he deserved a lot more than just that. A hell of a lot more. But still…

“Hey,” Crowe started, standing up from the chair he was sitting at, the chair making a soft groaning sound when he removed his weight from it.

"Wanna do something?" He asked, heading to his dresser. You sat up, looking at him with a curious eyebrow raised, a little confused by his sudden question.

"Do what?"

"Something fun." 

You watched as he opened a drawer in his dresser, taking something out. You blinked.

"A.. crowbar?" You asked softly, confused that he even had that. "What do you need that for?" You asked, sitting fully upright on his bed now. He turned to you, looking at the crowbar in his hands before looking up at you, a devilish grin on his face.

"We are going to scare those people." He said, admitting what this "fun" was going to be. Your brows shot up in surprise by his idea, looking at the crowbar in his hands. You knew what he had meant by "those people." The bullies who constantly harass you, tormented you since you started going to that college.

Those who thought less of you. Who called you scum and pet. Those who used you for their own personal needs.

Those people.

"With a crowbar?"

He nodded, walking over to you, lowering the crowbar to his side. "Yes. Those... 'friends' of yours are having a little party tonight. And they invited us." He said, his voice becoming dangerously low yet still soft. You looked up at him as he towered over you, your hands in your lap.

"They did? Even after what.. you did?" You asked, becoming more confused on why they did that. When did they do that? He nodded again, raising his free hand to gently place it on your head, looking down at you with soft eyes.

"Well, they don't know that they had invited us. And we are going to go there and scare them. Like a fun little surprise. Doesn't that sound like fun?" He asked, leaning down enough to be eye to eye with you now, his hand still in your hair, slightly ruffling it.

"I don't know, Crowe... Isn't the crowbar a little.. much?" You asked, looking back down at the crowbar he still had. He moved it behind his leg, as if that was enough to keep you from looking at it.

"Didn't they do something similar to you last year? They used, oh what did they use?" He pondered for a moment, raising his hand from your head to tap his chin lightly. "Oh, that's right, they used a baseball bat to scare you. What did they do with it?" He asked, placing his hand on your head again, tilting your head back to make you look up at him. "Didn't they smash it against your locker with all your things in it? The bat came close to your head, didn't it?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side as he looked at you, his eyes dangerously dark.

Your brows furrowed.

"I never told you that they did that."

His hand tightened slightly in your hair, but his fingers slowly dragged down your head to your cheek, gently cupping your face.

"Well... still, they did do that, right?" He asked again, this time, you nodded. He continued. "And today? When Jeremy called you a little dog? How he had made such a… suggestive comment to you." He gripped the crowbar tightly until his knuckles were white behind his leg, his eyes darkening at the memory.

He stood up suddenly, removing his hand from your face. "This will just be.. payback, for what they did to you. What all of them did. Ok?"

You stared at him, your heart starting to race from the thought of scaring those jerks who had scared you many times over. Maybe scaring them one time wouldn't be so bad...

You stood up from his bed, your hands clenched into fists as you looked at him, a smirk forming on your lips.

"Ok then, let's scare the shit out of them.”

His smile returned, his smile devilish like it had been before when he brought up the idea. He held his free hand out to you, urging you to take it. When you did, he pulled you closer to him, just enough for you to collide with his chest, his hand letting go of yours so his arm could snake around your waist.

“Then let's go out tonight and hunt, shall we?”

You probably should have changed your clothes that night as you walked quietly behind Crowe in the dark, the only light being the moonlight as your shoes softly stepped on the leaves under you, holding Crowe's hand as he led you further into the woods.

Crowe hadn't said anything about what his plan was, or how he was going to scare them, or how he knew where they would be. All you knew is that they were somewhere in the woods close to the campus and that Crowe needed to bring the crowbar with him. You didn't question it.

You trusted Crowe enough to not hurt you with it, trusted him enough to not hurt anyone with it. But something inside you told you that this “fun” idea of his was wrong and was about to get bad.

Suddenly, Crowe stopped, which made you stop suddenly, accidentally bumping into his back.

“Wha-”

“Shh.”

You peaked over his shoulder, seeing a few of the other football players around a small circle of fire that they had made. Your breath got caught in your throat. Jeremy was there.

He had gauze and a stint wrapped on his nose, holding his once broken nose straight in place. He must've gotten it done during school today. He was sitting on a tree trunk, the tree itself had been tossed on the other side of the fire, his friends were sitting on it, laughing at whatever Jeremy had said. It probably wasn't even that funny.

Crowe turned back to look at you, a wide smile across his face. You wanted to ask him what his plan was, but you didn't get a chance to when you felt his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand on your shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed towards the three jocks, stumbling forward until you fell on your hands and knees. Sticks dug into your palms and knees when you fell, dirt clinging to your skin.

The three guys stopped laughing, turning their heads to look at you, shocked to see what had stumbled upon their little secret meet up.

You scrambled to get up off the ground, looking behind you to find Crowe had vanished. Did he leave you here alone?

“Well, well. Look who it is. It's lil’ doggy!” Jeremy called out, standing up from the tree trunk.

You turned back to face them, all three of them standing now. Jeremy slowly made his way to you, which made you take a few steps back.

“Well, isn't this such a surprise? I thought that after what you and your little friend pulled today, you wouldn't have the guts to show yourself.” He announced, taking another step to you. You stepped back.

“I did nothing today.” You said, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter if you did something or not. It was the fact that you were there. The fact that you were with Crowe when he did it, that you didn't stop him when he broke his nose. That you let it happen.

“Exactly. Now my question is, why are you here right now? Were you stalking us?” He asked, amusement evident in his voice. 

You looked back around, your eyes scanning in the dark for Crowe. That was a mistake.

Jeremy grabbed your wrist hard, making you wince from the pain as he pulled you closer to his chest, his other hand going up to your arm to hold you in place. He smelled like cheap booze.

“It doesn't matter. But now that you're here, why don't we have a little fun?~”

Fun? You didn't want to have fun anymore, you didn't want to be here, to be in the arms of someone who groped you and made suggestive comments to you, the same person who yanked you by your hair when you tried ignoring him, who'd pin you against the lockers in an attempt to seduce you.

You started to struggle against him, trying to break free of his hold. But he held you too tight, his fingernails digging into your skin through your shirt, hard enough to make you cry out in pain.

“If you keep struggling, it'll only get worse for you.” He said, leaning in close to your ear, whispering to you. “I think I'll have my fun first. Then my friends can have the rest of ya.”

He flicked his tongue out and licked up from your cheek to your temple, making you whine and shudder from the gross feeling of his wet tongue dragging on your skin.

His friends chuckled behind him, seeing how uncomfortable you were becoming. Not that they cared. They only cared about what you might be hiding under your baggy clothes.

As adrenaline and fear started coursing through your veins, you lifted your knee high and fast enough to kick him in between his legs. Hard.

He groaned out in pain, tossing you on the ground to grab his crotch in pain. You landed on your side, your bones groaning in pain from the fall.

You rushed to get up, feeling dizzy from being thrown down so hard. You stumbled a little when you started running into the woods, but you caught yourself, running like your life depended on it. It kind of did.

You heard yelling behind you as you tried to navigate your way through the darkness, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dark as you ran further from the light and the guys.

Sweat was running down your face and back, breathing heavily as you tried to get to safety. Where was Crowe? Why did he leave you there with them? Why didn't he help you?

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you ran, thin tree branches occasionally whacked your face, leaving a few small cuts in their wake. You heard footsteps chasing after you, making you scream and panic.

Where the fuck was Crowe?!

Suddenly, you felt something hard hit the back of your head, making you trip and fall on your face. A rock had been thrown at you.

You groaned into the dirt, slowly turning to look behind you, finding Jeremy had caught up with you. He stopped just above you, panting heavily. He looked pissed.

He then kicked your side, making you help in pain, clutching your side.

“Fucking bitch. I thought you knew better than to disobey me.” He leaned down to push you on your back, stepping over you, his legs on either side of you. He lowered himself until he was sitting on top of you, making you groan and wince from the weight of him on you.

“Now, you'll fucking listen to me and start to obey.” He gripped your shirt, ripping it like it was nothing but paper to him.

You screamed, thrashing against him, kicking your feet under him. It was no use. He was much stronger than you, bigger than you.

“No, no, stop! Please, I'm sorry!” You pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears as Jeremy ripped off your bra, causing you to scream louder, trying to push him off of you as he kept you pinned to the ground.

“Crowe! Crowe, please! Help me!” You called out, calling for Crowe, for anyone to come and save you.

You felt a hand slap your face, your scream cut short.

“Shut the fuck up and take it you fucking bitch.” Jeremy reached down and started unzipping his pants.

Tears fell down your face as you tried to push him off you, sobbing as you pleaded with him to stop.

Why won't anyone help you?

Then, as if some God had answered your sobbing prayers, a wet crunch had hit the back of Jeremy’s head, making him cry out and fall off of you, landing beside you.

Crowe had the crowbar raised high as he stepped over to where Jeremy was laying. There was blood already on his skin and clothes.

He swung the crowbar, landing on Jeremy’s head, a wet crunch was made from the contact.

He swung again.

Crunch.

Again.

Crunch.

Swing.

Crunch.

Swing.

Crunch.

Crowe kept swinging the crowbar over and over, blood spraying on him and you. You hastily sat up, covering yourself with what little bit of your shirt you had, unable to look away as Crowe bashed in his head over and over.

“You—” Swing. “piece—” Crunch. “of—” Swing. “shit!” Crunch.

It wasn't until Jeremy’s face was unrecognizable and bloody that Crowe had stopped, seemingly satisfied at the work he had done on Jeremy. His face was bashed into his skull, his brains flung out all over the ground and some on Crowe. He didn't care.

He didn't care as he looked at you, panting heavily. His gaze softened at the sight of you, at how terrified you were, how you held your shirt against you to cover yourself. He dropped the crowbar on the ground with a soft thud, moving closer to you.

“Starlight-”

“Why did you leave me?!” You yelled at him, finally snapping out of your trance, looking up at him with teary eyes.

He stopped, his hands out to you. Stopping when you yelled at him.

“You left me! He was— he did—” You couldn't finish what you were going to say, tears falling down your face as you stared up at him.

Crowe slowly got down on his knees, crawling to you, his eyes never straying from yours as he got close enough to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. You tried to push him away, but he wouldn't let you, laying his head on top of yours.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry I left you alone. It was the only way I could get to them.” He whispered softly against your head, his bloody hands gently stroking your hair, his touch gentle than it had been moments ago when he was bashing Jeremy's face in.

“You left me.” You sobbed against his chest, finally giving in to his touch, your hand clutching his shirt.

He kept stroking your hair, his other hand around your chest, keeping you covered by his arm.

“I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I didn't think it was going to take me this long to get to you.” He said softly to you, kissing your head and temple.

He moved his hand from your chest to cup your face, making you tilt your head up so you can look at him. He placed gentle kisses all over your face, your forehead, your temple, your nose, cheeks, your jaw. Littering apologetic kisses all over.

You closed your eyes as he kissed your eyelids, kissing away your salty tears. Then he kissed your lips, his lips warm and wet against yours, wet from your tears.

Your hand on his black button up tightened as he kissed you. His hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, keeping you in place as he kissed you tenderly and passionately.

He tilted his head slightly as he kissed you, parting your lips to kiss deeper, his tongue sweeping in your mouth, groaning softly at the taste of you.

When he finally pulled away, he placed more soft kisses on your jaw down to your neck, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Please, my Starlight. Forgive me.” He muttered softly to you, his hot breath fanning against your skin when he spoke.

You looked over to where Jeremy’s dead body was, seeing his face bashed into the ground. Crowe saved you. He heard your cries and saved you, even if his method was… unethical.

He helped you up after a few moments of just sitting on the ground, having enough time to process everything. He took off the jacket he had around his waist to place on your shoulders, covering you as he led you out of the woods, passing the little camp Jeremy had on the way out. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the sight before you.

One of the students was laying in the fire, burning his body and clothes. The other guy was slumped against the tree trunk, his leg crooked in a way that wasn’t possible for a human to do with their bones in the way. And the smell of a burning body and blood stung the air around you. You held in a gag.

How could one person do something like this?

Crowe walked along, not paying any mind to the bodies on the ground, trying to make sure that you kept walking instead. He led you in the shadows, making sure to stay out of the street lights as he led you back to his house.

It felt longer on the walk over there than it had on the way to the woods. Your legs felt numb and aching as you walked. You hadn’t even noticed that your knee was bleeding, though the blood had dried on the walk.

Once you were safely in his house, Crowe helped you go up the stairs to his room, letting you take a shirt of his to go take a shower. You were in desperate need of one, but Crowe wouldn’t tell you that. 

You stood in the shower, staring down at the drain, watching as the dirt and blood swirled around and went down the drain. It felt strange taking a shower in someone else’s house. It felt like someone, or something, was watching you. You shivered at the thought.

You finally finished with your shower, drying off with a towel Crowe had left you on the counter sink.

You didn’t have any clean underwear, so you just decided to not worry about it, sliding the shirt over your head. It felt nice on you, soft and slightly warm from the warm air from the shower.

You stepped out of the bathroom, your hair still damp after drying it. You found Crowe sitting on his bed, staring at his hands. Did he regret what he did? Did he feel guilty or sick from murdering people? They were bad people, but people nonetheless.

He looked up, taking notice of you. Your face became hot as you felt his gaze linger longer than necessarily on your legs. His gaze went up to your face, seeming relieved that you seemed somewhat ok.

He opened his arms for you, wanting you to come closer to him. You hesitated. Why wouldn’t you? After what he had done? And yet, your legs moved before your brain could process, moving towards him. He reached out to you when you were close enough, pulling you gently closer to him.

He pressed his face against your stomach, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he held you, holding you in between his legs.

You hesitated before your fingers gently started to stroke his hair, soothing him. Why? You weren't entirely sure. You should be scared of him, but... you weren't. Far from it. You didn’t feel scared at least.

He nuzzled his face against your stomach, his fingers tightening on the shirt he gave you.

"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to make you wait for so long." He whispered softly against you, one of his hands sliding down to your thigh, his fingers lightly stroking up and down on your skin.

You felt your face get hot, your fingers stopping in his hair. Why was this making your heart race? You weren't scared. Maybe you liked the way he was touching you. How he was sorry for making you wait for him, how his gentle touches send chills through your spine, but you weren't scared. Not of him. At least you didn't think so.

Maybe you were, just a small amount. But your trust weighed more than your fear.

"It's.. ok, Crowe." You whispered to him,.your fingers going back to playing with his hair.

His fingers stopped on your thigh, staying still for a moment as he thought of something.

"Would you let me?" He asked softly against his shirt. "Prove to you that I'm sorry. That my touch would be different than how... he had done it. Would you let me? I promise to make you feel wonderful..."

His question hung in the air between you two, his voice softer than you've heard it before, almost vulnerable. You swallowed hard before answering.

"Yes... please, Crowe."

He looked up at you, smiling softly to himself as he pulled you closer, his hand moved from your thigh to your cheek, leaning in to kiss you like he did in the forest, but this time gentler, sweeter.

You closed your eyes, leaning in this time as you kissed.

His lips moved slowly against yours, his tongue grazing your bottom lip, silently asking for permission. You opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore you again, his tongue swirling around yours, muffling your soft sweet moans.

He slid his hands to your waist, swiftly moving you to lay down on his bed, careful when placing your head on the pillows.

He sucked on your tongue gently before breaking the kiss, a string of saliva connecting to your lips. He broke it with a soft kiss to your lips before burying his face in your neck, nibbling on your soft skin there, leaving marks in their wake.

His hand moved from your waist down to the end of your shirt, lifting it just enough to feel in between your legs, feeling your bare pussy. Feeling how wet you were. He let out a soft noise of approval against your neck, sucking on the spot just below your ear.

"W-Wait—hhnn.." Your voice faltered when he pushed his middle finger slightly into you, your fists clinging onto his shirt like a lifeline. It was starting to get intense for you. He hummed softly into your neck, his finger stopping.

"Would you like me to stop?" He asked softly, pressing another kiss to your neck, this time softer than before.

You swallowed hard, trying to catch your breath. Your body was trembling under him, trembling with need and fear. Fear of what? Maybe of him, maybe of what he could do, what he can do, what his hands are capable of. You shook your head, opening your eyes slowly, your hands still clenched around his shirt.

"N-no.. please... keep going." You whispered softly to him, your voice shaking slightly when you spoke. He smiled against your neck, placing a kiss on your shoulder before pulling back slightly to look at you, to see your flustered face, how beautiful you were against his pillows. Suddenly, he pushed his finger in you without warning, hearing you make another noise that was between a whimper and a gasp.

He gently took your face in his other hand, cupping your chin to make you look at him. "Kiss me, my Starlight." He whispered softly against your lips. Without hesitating, you leaned in, kissing him deeply as he thrust his finger in you again, making you moan in the kiss.

He added another finger, stretching you out as he pushed his tongue in your mouth, tasting you, exploring your mouth thoroughly once more. He curled his fingers in you, finding that right spot in you that made your thighs tremble.

His bottom piercings nicked on your bottom lip, enough to draw a little blood, but you didn't care, not when he was making you feel this good.

You arched your back against his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers, getting closer to the edge.

"C-Crowe, please.. I'm so close.." You moaned softly to him, pleading him.. for what? What were you begging for? To cum? For more than just his fingers?

He chuckled softly against your lips, pushing his fingers fully in your cunt, enough to make you squirm under him. "You're going to what, sweetheart?" He asked teasingly against your lips, kissing them softly as he pulled his fingers out slowly just to push them back in ever so slowly. You moaned under him, your thighs trembling hard. 

Suddenly, he pulled his fingers out of you, making you whimper at the loss.

Slowly, his hands moved to your knees, opening them wider for him. The corners of his lips twitched upwards at the sight of your bare pussy, how wet you've become from his touch.

He leaned down, leaning closer to your core, feeling his lips trace your inner thigh, his hands moving from your knees to the back of your thighs, keeping your legs open for him.

"My Starlight. So wonderful and bright. I wonder how sweet you are." He hummed softly, then he bit down on a sensitive part of your inner thigh, making you whimper from his teeth.

He flicked his tongue out and licked up your slit, making you let out a shuddering moan, your hand finding its way into his hair, gripping tightly.

He chuckled softly against you, his tongue licking up again, pushing a little past your folds. You leaned your head back on his pillow, moaning softly from his tongue.

His hands gripped your thighs more, holding them still as he pushed his tongue inside you, tasting you fully.

The feeling of his tongue inside you was too much for you to bear. Your thighs close around his head as you grind against his tongue, feeling yourself coming in his mouth and face.

He groaned as he tasted you, feeling your body arching against his face. His fingernails dug slightly into your skin, making sure you didn't close your legs too much.

"You taste..." He muttered softly against you, his tongue licking up once more, getting another taste of you. "...so sweet. So delicious."

You shuddered softly against his words, feeling him start to kiss your inner thigh once more before sitting fully up on his bed, looking down at you.

God, you looked so beautiful and flushed. So perfect.

Slowly, he reached up to unbutton his shirt, watching as your eyes looked over at him, watching him take off his shirt as you tried to catch your breath.

"You're so pretty." He muttered softly to you. Always that damn muttering. It felt like he was teasing you with his muttering.

He let his shirt fall, letting you get a good look at him.

Dear God.

You had never thought of what he could possibly look like underneath his clothes.

He looked like he had been sculpted by the stars themselves. It was the best you could describe him. Lean and defined.

His hands moved to the shirt you wore, but he didn't take it off, cautious with the idea of taking your shirt off.

You swallowed hard, nodding to him. "You can take it off... I don't mind."

His eyes looked at your shirt then back at you, hesitating before slowly lifting your shirt up, taking it off for you. You raised your arms, helping him take the shirt off you.

Once it was off and on the floor, his gaze lingered on your exposed breasts, his eyes roaming your entire naked body.

"You're so beautiful." He looked back at your face, letting you see the desperation and yearning in his eyes. It makes your face hot.

You never thought someone could yearn for you like the way Crowe does.

He leaned in, kissing you again softly as he reached down to take off his belt and jeans, getting closer to you as he took them off fully, moving closer to get on top of you, being gentle and careful.

You felt him press himself against you, your face flushed from the feeling of his hard length. You hadn’t realized that he was already hard, despite his earlier service to you.

He chuckled softly against your lips, pulling back to look at you, seeing your flustered beautiful face.

“You feel it?” He asked softly, one of his hands moving up to cup your face. “Do you feel what you do to me? Everything about you… your touch, your voice, hell, even when you look at me. It does things to me.”

You didn’t know what he had meant by that, but you were barely listening, your head fuzzy with lust and desire. He gazed down at you, noticing the desire in your eyes, the need and want and longing.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, positioning himself at your entrance, his hands moving to your thighs again. “I want to feel you. To hear you gasp and moan for me again.” He whispered softly to you as he slowly moved his hips, entering in your aching pussy.

You let out a gasping moan, feeling exactly how hard he was. How big he was. How the fuck did his jeans contain all of him?

He buried his face in your neck as he pushed his cock fully inside you, settling. Waiting. Letting you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers digging into his back. It hurt a little, but it was more pleasurable than painful.

“My Starlight. My wonderful, beautiful Starlight.” He muttered against your neck, placing soft kisses along the side of your neck, each one lasting longer than the last.

Then he started moving. You hadn’t mentally prepared for it.

You whimpered against his shoulder, gripping him tightly as he slowly thrusted into you, moving in and out of you slowly, tenderly, lovingly. You closed your eyes, moaning softly as he moved one of his hands to intertwine your hands together, holding your hand as he made love to you.

“You feel so amazing. You fit so perfectly around me. Like you were made for me.” He muttered softly against your neck, letting out a few moans of his own from the feeling of you.

You opened your eyes and looked up at the ceiling, only to find the mirror giving you a full view of Crowe making love to you, letting you see everything.

You gasped softly, having forgotten that he had that mirror. He pulled back, worried that he might’ve hurt you from hearing your sudden gasp, only to find you staring up at the mirror, unable to look away from the sight.

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards at the realization, leaning in close to your ear.

“Do you like what you see? Do you see how well you’re taking me?” He placed a soft kiss on the shell of your ear, making your face beet red, which you can see in the mirror.

“You take me so well, so wonderful.”

He rolled his hips, making you moan, this time a little louder than before.

Oh, how Crowe tortured you with his touch, his words, his longing. It was torture.

He started to thrust faster, harder, hearing the sounds you were making under him, hearing how they were getting a little louder with each thrust.

“You sing so beautifully for me.” He muttered against your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder.

He kept muttering soft words and praises to you, hearing your moans and whimpers, how you moaned his name when he hit that particular spot inside you.

It wasn’t until he thrusted once more that your body shuddered, your release crashing through you as you came on his cock.

You clenched around him, making him groan. It was too much for him. You felt too much for him, too much around him.

He let out a pathetic moan, spilling himself inside you, his hips stuttering as he came. He moved his hips slightly, slowing down, making sure to keep all of his cum inside you, not wanting a drop to come out.

Your thighs trembled as he moved slowly until he stopped, but he made no move to pull out of you.

He nuzzled against your neck, placing soft and loving kisses along your neck and jaw.

It wasn’t until he had pulled out of you, it wasn’t even until he held you close to his chest that the weight of everything came down on you.

What did this mean? Everything was confusing to you, but you were too tired to even think properly, too tired to ask him anything, leaning into his touch as he held you.

“My Starlight.” He muttered softly to you, placing a soft kiss on your hair.

“I’ll always be there when you need me. No one else could ever take you from me.”

You didn’t understand what he had meant, but it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

“𝕀’𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕝𝕨𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕓𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕞𝕪 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥.”

˜”°•.˜”°• ~~ •°”˜.•°”˜