*Dedicated to @iBree26 who happens to be my partner in crime and because it's her bday celebration weekend and all I've heard the whole trip is 'when are you updating BTRS', this is for her.

I stirred in the warm bed, pulling the fluffy comforter up to my face even more. When sleep came, I became a gopher it and always buried my head under the blankets. Blankets were like pillow forts, they afforded a much-needed sense of security. As I pulled the toasty blanket further up to my head, I noticed a smell that was lingering on the sheets. It was both a familiar smell and one that I couldn't quite place. 

My fingers ran along the top of the blanket and my eyes shot open. My blanket was silky, the blanket under my fingers was coarse. Scanning the room, I noticed that I wasn't in the sanctity of my dorm room. The walls were lined with band posters sure, but they weren't my bands. I looked up and my eyes caught an Avenged Sevenfold poster with M. Shadows front and center. For a second, I blinked, I didn't own a poster of M. Shadows, unless they sold ones of him shirtless. My eyes settled on another unfamiliar band poster of Slipknot. 

OH.MY.GOD... I was not in my room. I let out a little gasp and my hand quickly shot over my mouth, silencing it. I looked down under the covers and a wave of relief swept over me when I saw that I was in fact, still wearing my clothes, every single piece. Nothing had been changed out of and nothing was askew. Thank the heavens, I didn't have the energy to kill anyone!

I felt something brush me under the covers and looked over to my right. Lying next to me was a half-naked chest of a boy, his head jammed under the pillow. I sneaked a peak at the face of the boy, by slowly lifting the edge of the fluffy pillow up ever so slightly and his chiseled jawline met up with my eyes. His full lips were slightly open and soft breaths were escaping them. His dark brown hair looked messy and he had these amazingly long eyelashes. They were the kind of eyelashes that girls paid a small fortune for. 

I couldn't help but look at his chiseled cheekbones and immediately wanted to run my fingers over them. I was lost looking at his face and didn't notice his eyelids fluttering open.

"Are you one of those creepy girls who stares at guys while they are sleeping?" I snapped out of my current fantasy, which revolved around me cupping his face while we kissed in the foggy night, and looked at a pair of really sexy chocolate brown eyes. 

"Uh. No! Are you one of those creepy guys who steals girls in the middle of the night and hides them under your stairs?"

He smiled a soft smile, like he was thinking about what I said. "I don't have you stashed under the stairs. You're stashed in my bed actually and I didn't steal you."

He rotated off his back and came to rest, facing me, with his face on his pillow. I sat up in the bed and crossed my legs, creating some much-needed space between us. He propped himself up on his elbow and ran his hand over my arm.

"Before you ask, I found you crying in the stairwell and no, nothing happened."

"Well, then that's a good thing nothing happened. I think I'd rather be conscious if it did." I mentally slapped myself when the words left my lips. Really, Talia? Did you just inadvertently tell Paxton Reever that you wanted to have sex with him? No no no no no, that was definitely not going to happen. "What I meant to say was, I'm not a fan of the whole dudes taking advantage of girls thing."

"Clearly." He smirked and proceeded to get up out of bed. He had on a pair of grey sweatpants and when he stretched, all of his muscles flexed. I could feel my blood boiling as each individual muscle on his chest and abdomen moved, like ripples on a lake. His raven tattoo flexed its wings underneath his chest muscles and my thoughts drifted back to last night with Damian and his revelations.

"Crap, I didn't tell my roommate Lizbeth where I was going. I bet she's freaked, especially after what happened." His eyes set on me with a curiosity to them.

"What happened last night?" his voice became low when he spoke, and while it remained calm, there was concern in it.

I stood up off the bed and threw on my converse sneakers, " Oh, um, nothing. Never mind." I headed in the direction of his door, but before I could twist the knob his hand met up with mine. He pulled me close to him, my hands finding their way onto his bare chest.

He looked down firmly into my eyes, "What happened last night and stop trying to lie to me. I can tell when you're lying."

I pushed at his chest to create a distance, I gulped in a breath and swallowed, "Jack tried to attack me, but apparently you already knew that, seeing as how Damian probably told you."

"Why do I feel like you aren't telling me the whole story, Talia?"

"Because I'm not," I replied in a mousey voice. He pulled me in closer to him once again, our bodies scraping against each other. "Apparently, Colin helped him set it up, by telling Lizbeth I had left. Lizbeth and I, had a fight in the room and I ran into the stairwell to call my best friend, who was too drunk to care and too eager to screw some chick, rather than talk to me. So, I cried and then woke up here." 

I didn't know why I was volunteering up all that information to Paxton. There was just something about him that made me feel safe. It was a completely different feeling from the excitement that I felt around Damian. 

His grip tightened around my arms and I could see anger in his otherwise calm eyes. He pushed himself off of me and opened the door to his room, not bothering to grab a shirt or his shoes. Before he disappeared down the empty hall, he turned to me and said, "I had Angie call Lizbeth and tell her you stayed in her room, so she didn't suspect anything between you and me."

Wait, there was a you and me, and it had something between it?

Before I could thank him or ask him what he meant by suspecting anything between him and me, he had disappeared into the stairwell. I had so many questions and there was so much confusion. I looked down at my phone to see that I had several missed calls from Seth, but I couldn't help the disappointment that I felt in him, so I ignored them.

I decided to head back to my room and when I entered, Lizbeth was snoring away under her blankets. I grabbed up my lanyard which had my student ID and meal card in the clear holder and tucked my new phone into my jacket pocket. I headed across campus to the dining hall, in my sweats, to grab some breakfast and transfer all my information from my old phone to my new one.

There weren't many students in the dining hall at the early hour, so finding a spot to sit secluded away from everyone, was easy. I set out my smoothie bowl, with a layer of raspberry yogurt, fresh fruit and granola, along with my glass of iced tea and slice of toast in front of me, on the empty table. I glanced up to see several boys from Damian's group sitting at the far end of the room gossiping, all wearing jerseys. Every so often, they peered over and looked to be whispering. I shot a middle finger in their direction while I was face deep in my new phone, downloading apps.

I heard the boys shuffle off past my table, mumbling things under their breath, but I didn't care. Everything in the dining hall became relatively silent and I began to enjoy the peace and quiet of an empty hall. I heard the slamming down of a relatively hard object and my eyes came up to see Damian standing at the table across from me.

He was wearing a pitch-black jersey with the words Anthabask Academy across the front in golden-yellow letters. The number 13, sat underneath the print. His shorts were pitch black and had the same number. He set his lacrosse stick up against the table next to him, pulling his tray closer to him after sitting. His tray was loaded with a full serve breakfast, even though it was too early for the dining hall to be serving hot food. He must have had preferential treatment here, like everywhere else. Maybe it was an athlete thing. 

He began digging into his plate, which was loaded with eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, fresh fruit, and potatoes. He had a can of Coke next to a large glass of ice and a cup of coffee. He looked up at me and gave me a faint smirk, before going back to slathering tobasco all over his eggs and potatoes.

"Is this going to start being our thing?" I looked up at him while spooning some of my smoothie bowl into my mouth.

"Is what going to be our thing?" he answered with a mouth full of food, which was shocking, considering that he always acted so proper and put together.

"Eating."

He thought for a second before answering, "I suppose."

"Aren't you afraid of what people will say?"

He turned to look around the empty room, shrugging his shoulders. "What people? Maybe it's you that should be worried about that, considering who your roommate is." He set his fork down next to his plate and crossed his hands in front of him, leaning towards me. "So, you and my brother?"

My face jolted up to look at his, and saw that a curious expression had washed over it. "We are friends, I suppose. Why do you care?"

He rubbed his hand over the stubble on his chin for a moment, leaning back in his chair pondering the question. Before long he leaned back in, pushing his tray to the side of him and closing in the distance between us. "He didn't come to practice this morning and he never misses practice, which tells me he was with you. Secondly, I want to know who my competition is."

He rested his hands on the table, inching them closer to where mine were sitting, his fingertips brushing mine. I looked down at the close proximity of our hands, jolts of electricity flared from his hands and up my nerve endings. "Why would it matter who was interested in me? Are you throwing your hat into the ring?"

He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers, looking up at me, a softness in his face that was foreign. "Maybe I am, Talia Grey." He released my hand and pulled his tray back in front of him, resuming his consumption of his breakfast, just as the door to the dining hall opened and a large group of athletes came walking in, along with other students.

I gathered up my half empty bowl and glass and stood up to leave. As I walked past Damian, he reached out and grabbed my hand, stopping me. He didn't bother to look up at me when he spoke, "Meet me tonight behind the gym, by the forest line, 9:00PM."

"No, Damian." I pulled my hand from his grip.

"Please." He was looking at me when he said the single word that I thought I would never hear from him. Manners didn't seem to be his strong suit.

"Fine, but make it 8:00PM." 

He shook his head at my request, "9:00PM, mandatory practice ends at 8:30."

........................

I spent my Saturday in typical Talia fashion, with my earbuds in my ears and at my desk in my dorm room. Mrs. Collins had given us a report due Monday on the anatomy of a fetal pig and it required diagraming on a separate piece of paper the entire structure, along with a detailed report on the function of each organ. 

I had already finished my AP French worksheets during my free period on Thursday, so I didn't have that hanging over my head. Lizbeth was on her bed with her face in John Steinbeck's, East of Eden, which had been assigned in her English class. She scrawled little notes on pink post-its and then lined the inside of her library rented book.

I checked the clock on my phone and the time listed as past 7:00PM. I closed up my science journal and grabbed a change of clothes, heading into the en suite. I wrapped up my hair in a messy bun and stepped into the hot water. I heard Lizbeth knock on the door and peak her head in. 

"Hey, are you going to the party down the hill?"

I pulled the shower curtain back enough so that my face was visible. "Party?"

"Yeah, there was an email that Amy McGuinty from your AP French class was having a party, down the hill. Nothing major like Colin's, but there is supposed to be lots of games and an outdoor movie."

"Oh yeah, I saw that email, but I need to go to the library tonight and finish my report. I won't be able to tomorrow, cause we have to go to your dad's." I lied through my teeth to her, but I didn't care. 

I couldn't stomach putting myself in a position where I may potentially run into Colin, Jack or any of the other goons. I also couldn't tell her that I was meeting Damian. I was definitely fearful of our previous interaction in the woods, but I had questions that I didn't feel anyone else was willing to answer. So far, Lizbeth was tight-lipped, Killian just yelled at me, and Paxton was more concerned with being mysterious and making out with me in secret. Damian was the only one willing to let me into his world, if only briefly.

"Okay, well if you change your mind, I'll leave my keys and you bring my car down. I'll ride down with Sheri, who lives down the hall."

I shot her a thumbs up and went back to my shower. When I finished, I let my hair out of the messy bun, allowing the natural curls to cascade down my back. I put on a thin coat of eye liner and dabbed on a blush pink lip gloss that tasted like raspberries. I threw on a pair of black leggings, a black slim fit tank top, and an oversized grey long-sleeved shirt with a scoop neck. I walked back into the main room and grabbed my black army boots and shoved them on over a pair of really warm wool socks. I wrapped a purple plaid flannel shirt around my waist and grabbed my grenade charm necklace off my desk, along with my leather jacket.

Jamming my phone into the inside pocket of my jacket, I didn't make the same mistake as last time where I could risk it falling out. I jammed my earbuds into my ears and keyed up the Pixies' "Where is my Mind," listening to it as I walked across campus. When I glanced at my watch which always sat on my upper arm, it told me it was 8:50PM. 

It was cold, but not like the other night. I found my fingers playing along to the cords of the song, which happened a lot. All it took was hearing a song once and I could pick out most of the cords without looking at sheet music. My mom had been a piano teacher in her free time, when I was younger. She taught me to read music, but also how to listen. She said listening was the most powerful weapon in the war of creativity, because if you didn't stop to listen, you weren't stopping to think or breathe. 

I remember going downstairs late at night and she would be listening to classical music on the radio, her fingers stretched out in front of her in the air, moving along with the music like she was sitting in front of the piano. I was lost in thought when I made it to the back of the gym and to the tree line. I didn't feel his arm wrap around my waist and pull me towards him. 

He pulled me into his chest, breathing me in, his hand traveling up my back before he reached for my earbud and pulled it out, placing it to his ear. He listened for a few seconds before nodding and letting it drop. He was wearing a white t-shirt under a red flannel shirt and black jeans. He had on his black leather jacket and black vans. He was wearing his black thick rimmed glasses and while I thought he looked undeniably sexy in them, I missed the spectacular view of his beautiful eyes. 

"Why are we here, Damian?" I broke the silence with my question.

"Would you believe me if I said I can't stay away from you. I've been told to keep my distance, but I'm drawn to you like a moth to a flame." The moonlight hit his glasses and for a second, the color of his eyes danced like a kaleidoscope turning on its end.

"So, you do as your told?"

"Most of the time."

"That's a shame, Damian. I didn't have you pegged as a follower. It's a pity, I was starting to be extremely attracted to you." I pushed away from him and began walking into the cluster of trees. He began walking behind me, before grasping my hand suddenly and twirling me around to face him. He had anger in his eyes and I could hear that visceral growl forming in his throat.

"You mock me, but you have no idea who my father is."

"No, I get it, really I do. Your dad is powerful and your family is consumed with tradition and heritage which is noble, but at some point, in your life instead of being an attack dog, you're going to have to become your own man. At least your brother is his own man. One who thinks for himself." The last part of my statement stung as it rolled off my tongue and I paused, wondering why I had just thrown his brother into his face.

"You have no idea who my brother is, Talia. You see one side and it's the side he wants you to see. He is thought and I am memory. What you don't see right now, is that thought is rich with cunning and sometimes dishonesty. We are both two sides, just like I can be vengeful and consumed with desire." He placed his hand up to cradle my face, turning it towards his so that he was looking directly into his eyes. 

"Oh... So that's what this is about? You're desire and this game is about sex. Why didn't you say so, Damian? I'm sure a guy like you gets a lot of legs spread for him, too bad I'm not one of those girls." I turned to walk away from him, from this forest, but he gripped me tight preventing my escape.

"You never listen, Talia. Again, you don't understand anything!" his voice snapped at me, his face turning cold.

"Then quit playing games and tell me! What is it that you desire?" I snapped back at him.

He looked me in the eyes and leaned in, our lips almost within touching distance. I could feel his breath on my chin as he spoke, "My desire lies in wanting to remember, wanting to be seen. I desire the love that will eventually set me free." He hesitated for a second before he continued, "There's a moment in time that the ancient Vikings used to call the period before the ravens sing. It's the one hour at night, when the ravens are free from Odin's control and are allowed to be free. We are standing in that hour." 

A wave of something flashed in his eyes as he raised his hands to cup my face. His mouth opened and his tongue came to rest on my bottom lip, grabbing my bottom lip up and bringing it into his mouth. My knees went weak beneath me and he wrapped his strong arms around my body and pulled me into him, his mouth engulfing mine. His lips tasted like black cherries and I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him back, kissing him with everything I had in me. 

I thought my perfect kiss happened when I was fifteen, standing on my front porch with Seth, but the kiss from this angry and hateful boy was like nothing I had ever experienced. The heat rose throughout my body and for a second, I rethought my previous statement about never wanting to give myself to someone. When he pulled away to catch his breath, I regained my composure and started thinking rationally again. 

The smile on his face was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was large and perfectly straight and white. It was an infectious smile, and I found myself wanting to stare at it for hours. He took my hand in his and brushed a soft kiss along my knuckles before pulling me back to campus and towards his beautifully sleek car in the parking lot.

Before long we sat parked out in front of Chippy's.

I guess eating would be our thing...

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A/N: Hey guys!

Sooooo... The kiss! I'm evil, I know... I love love triangles, or love squares, who knows. Talia is going to have a hard decision to make eventually, if this goes any further.

So are we seeing a new side to Mr. Evil?

Please comment and vote!!

Love ya all!