Nate

**Today**



Damn! It might not be the only word to define the string of crap that went down last night, but it's the only one I can think of. It was just supposed to be another party, for fuck’s sake. Fabi, this girl I hooked up with during my first-semester rush, was all over me, trying to mark her territory and keep me from getting with someone else. She’s hot, sexy, with just the right amount of weight in her chest to make me rock-hard. But there was enough fresh meat around for me to crave something different. Why settle for someone I’ve been sleeping with regularly? I needed something new, and after I scared off Pierre, that worthless dealer, I saw her—the bitch who ruined me.
I felt a frantic mix of adrenaline, nostalgia, and rage as I realized the girl who was responsible for the most traumatic days of my teen years had turned into a woman.
Isabela Lenhard.
I blinked a few times, wondering if it was really the girl I knew from school, the small ray of ruined sunshine I had fallen for. And yes, it was her, completely wrecked—but not in a good way. It was sad to see so many changes, and unfortunately, I knew her well enough to understand what she was trying to say with all the modifications in her appearance, in the alternative way she now presented herself to the world.
The first shock was her hair—blood red. She was no longer a piece of sunshine, but fire. Not that she looked bad, quite the opposite. When I got closer to her—because I couldn’t stop my damn feet once I realized what the hood over her hair meant—I saw how gorgeous she still was. Even more than that, she was insanely hot dressed like Little Red Riding Hood!
I didn’t even realize I was walking toward her until I was standing right in front of her. She was still Isa… but now she looked like she had been sharpened into a fucking weapon, forged to wound.
Her scent was the same.
But her eyes were arrogant.
Her lips were the same.
But they wore a lipstick the color of her hair.
Her skin was the same pale white I had abandoned.
But now it displayed tattoos in the areas that were exposed.
Her brown eyes were the ones I had learned to love.
But black stuff was running down from beneath them, as if her makeup had smeared because she'd been crying.
Heavy makeup, dyed hair, a nose piercing, tattoos… Isabela had turned into someone else. I couldn’t see a trace of that schoolgirl anymore. I realized she didn’t recognize me as we started talking. And when she dismissed me like a goddamn fly, her dark nails scratching up the expensive leather of my jacket, I knew I wouldn’t let any other bastard touch her. I was overwhelmed with an irrational hatred, like it wasn’t just a wolf mask I had on, but primal instinct. I would beat the crap out of anyone if that’s what it took to keep them away from her.
I was furious when I realized that Isabela was at my college, dressed as Little Red Riding Hood, drinking beer, waiting to meet someone to fuck.
A primal anger hit me whenever I looked at her, even though I tried to stay cool and continue our conversation calmly. But when she opened that mouth I wanted to ruin with how hard I’d fuck her just to tell me she was a virgin, all my anger disappeared, replaced by a mix of desire and frustration.
I couldn’t let her do that.
I couldn’t let Isabela sleep with some stranger for her first time.
And the idea of someone else touching her made me livid.
It had been a long time since I last saw her, years since I had purged all the strong memories of her from my system, even though bits of her still haunted my dreams. Still, my possessiveness returned full force when I stood in front of her.
My girl was no longer mine! She wasn’t even a girl anymore. And after all these years, it was still hard to accept.
Isa was utterly fucked up. I knew about the things happening in her house when we first got together. When she said she had trauma with touch, I remembered the first day I saw her and pulled her out of the arms of a boy at school, when Caíque cornered her and mocked her trauma. I felt sorry for her, so I followed her to the bathroom and watched her break down. She shattered in such a deep way that it triggered memories from my own childhood. I freaked out and graffitied the bathroom wall in front of her, and that’s how our story began.
My mom always says, “What starts bad ends worse.” Ironically, that seems to be the only coherent thing she’s ever said.
I have no idea why I invited someone I hate to meet my father… My plan was to bring Fabi, even though it would give her hopes for things I could never give her. But I found myself inviting that bitch Isa instead. I threw myself into the fire, fully aware of how much I’d get burned.
I’m not going to be a hypocrite and say sleeping with her in my room was an act of selflessness. I wanted to fuck Isabela. I always have, even when we were too young, even when she looked like a fragile, sweet, enchanting doll. Last night, a side of me that had been dormant woke up, a side that wanted that woman with every fiber of my being.
She was a bitch when I brought her to my dorm, making it clear that all she wanted was to use me as a means to lose her virginity. But I didn’t give up, even though I wanted to throw her out of my room every time I realized I wasn’t special enough for her to even recognize me.
I would’ve noticed her in the middle of a crowd. I’d know it was her just by her wonderful smell, by the sensual tone of her voice. Hell, I could recognize her just by the shape of her smile.
So I got pissed, furious that I was probably just a blur in Isa’s past, someone who only served for her to mess with. But I fought back the anger and let her take control, like a fucking fool.
I accepted her crumbs of kisses, her touches, because I couldn’t bear the thought of someone else doing it.
I don’t like her.
No, I’ll never like her again!
She’s a damn bitch… But for some reason, her kiss still tastes the same as it did seven years ago, though now a cold piercing decorates the tip of her tongue. Her skin still smells like grapes, and even her breasts are the same size—small and ready to disappear in my hands. Her stomach is still flat, but now it boasts a shiny belly piercing.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that red-haired devil for a second since she left, trying to hold back tears after realizing it was me behind the mask. And it didn’t break my heart to see her disappointment. In fact, her tear-filled eyes brought me nothing but pleasure.
It was delightful to see her feel a bit of the pain she caused me for years as I tried to forget her.
And when she left, I punched the wall until my knuckles bled because I was shaken by her presence. Seeing her with that dim smile messed me up, the same way she’s always been the only woman capable of messing me up. And not even sneaking into Fabi’s room in the middle of the night and taking out all my anger on her pussy was enough to relax me—it didn’t stop me from spending the rest of the night thinking about Isa, remembering every contour of her body. Because, no matter how much I hate her, no matter how much I resent her for being a gossiping bitch, I always wanted to see her naked, I always wanted to be her first. And, through some cruel twist of fate, I was the one who got to slide into that tight, hot flesh for the first time.
I imagined a future for us, colorful like the graffiti I spray on walls, beautiful like a Van Gogh painting. But she screwed me over and turned everything between us into one single color: red. The color of hate, of fury, of rage. The color that now dominates her appearance is the same as the wall between us.
How can I be so close to Isabela without wanting to destroy her?
How can I feel that she’s like a broken rose, hiding her beauty behind venomous thorns, understand every shattered piece of her, and at the same time want to tear her apart until there’s nothing left for everything she did to me?