High On You

She tried to pull away again.

I didn't let her.

My fingers stayed wrapped around her wrist, tighter than before—not enough to hurt, just enough to say you're not going anywhere.

"Don't you dare leave me, " I said again, softer this time.

Her eyes searched mine.

Worried. Confused. Beautiful.

God, she looked so soft when she cared.

"You know you're my only reason to exist, right… sunshine?"

My voice cracked on the word.

Like I needed her to believe it.

Because I did.

Because it was true.

She blinked. "Ilay…"

"I didn't start that fight," I whispered. "I swear."

I leaned in. Closer. So close her breath brushed mine.

"I was just anxious. That bastard—he said he liked you."

A beat.

"I didn't like that one bit. "

My jaw clenched.

"What if he hurt you?" I said, softer now. "What if you smiled at him the way you smile at me? What if he touched you?"

I felt my hand twitch.

My body remembered the sound of that guy's nose breaking. The feel of his blood on my knuckles.

"I just—I couldn't let it happen. You don't get it. If I lost you…"

My voice dropped to a whisper.

"I'd stop breathing."

Her shoulders relaxed.

She sighed—slow, deep—and reached up to brush my hair from my eyes, her fingers gentle. Comforting. Mine.

"I promised you, right, Ilay?" she murmured. "I won't be away from you. Not even for a second."

My chest bloomed. A warm ache, dangerous and addictive.

She meant it.

God, she meant it.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, brushing my forehead against hers.

"I just get scared sometimes."

It wasn't a lie.

But it wasn't the whole truth either.

I didn't get scared she'd leave.

I got scared she'd belong to anyone else.

Because she was mine.

Her fingers slipped into mine—soft, trusting—and she tugged me gently back toward the hallway.

Back to class.

Back to reality.

But my reality… was her.

Her hand in mine?

Euphoria.

It was pathetic—I knew that—how just walking beside her, holding her hand, breathing the same air as her… made my lungs burn and my body heat in ways I couldn't explain.

Well—I could.

God, if she knew what she did to me just by touching me.

If she knew that I'd almost—

I swallowed hard, my breath hitching.

My legs shook slightly with every step.

My fingers tightened around hers, just barely, anchoring myself to the only thing that made sense in my world.

Her.

She didn't even notice. She just kept walking, hair swaying like it had a rhythm meant only for me.

Then she said it.

"You know how everyone makes fun of me for staying behind two grades just to go to school with you, right?"

I blinked.

That soft smile on her lips made my bones ache.

"If you go around beating people up for liking me," she continued, "they're gonna start to misunderstand."

Misunderstand.

The word echoed in my skull like a trigger.

Misunderstand what?

You're already mine.

I didn't say it out loud.

I just stared at the floor, letting my bangs fall over my eyes, hiding the storm inside me.

Let them misunderstand, I wanted to say.

Let them think I'm obsessed. Let them call me crazy. Let them fucking choke on it.

Because no one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to say your name like that. No one else gets to breathe the same air you do.

Only me.

Only ever me.

But I didn't say that.

I just looked down, quiet.

"Alright, alright," Serene sighed beside me. I felt her hand brush through my hair again—gentle, soothing—like she'd done since we were kids. "Don't go looking like a kicked puppy now."

My stomach clenched.

That touch.

That softness.

That… love.

She had no idea what she was feeding.

What she'd created.

And I wasn't going to ruin it.

Before I could drown any deeper in her scent, a voice cut through our moment.

"Serene," some guy called—Dylan or Devon or some forgettable name I didn't give a shit about. "Miss Harper's looking for you. She said to come quick."

She blinked, turning. "Oh, alright. Thanks."

She gave my hand a little squeeze before slipping away, walking beside him like it meant nothing.

Like he didn't just fucking ruin everything.

My stomach twisted.

I didn't move.

I just stared at the guy's back as he led her away.

Fucking bastard.

How dare you ruin our moment?

I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste copper, fists clenching at my sides. You shouldn't even be allowed to speak to her, let alone stand that close.

I wanted to follow. Wanted to gut him like a pig for even looking at her.

But—

No.

Patience, Ilay.

Serene didn't like it when I got into fights.

She'd just made that clear.

So I turned, jaw locked, and made my way back to our classroom like a normal boy.

A harmless one.

Our desks were still warm from our bodies. Hers was always slightly messier than mine, covered in doodles and stray graphite smudges from the way she chewed her pencil when she was deep in thought.

I sat down.

Let the silence settle.

Then, like muscle memory, my hand reached for it.

Her pencil.

Half-bitten at the end. Teeth marks soft and delicate. The kind of thing any sane person would overlook.

But I wasn't sane.

I turned it slowly in my fingers. Tracing the ridges her teeth left like they were secret letters only I could read.

Then—

I brought it to my lips.

My chest tightened.

My pupils dilated.

And I kissed the spot where she'd bitten.

Soft.

Obsessed.

Fuck.

A breathy groan slipped past my lips before I could stop it.

Her taste—even if imagined—made my spine curve, my fingers tremble, my thighs tense beneath the desk.

"Ahh…" I exhaled, mouth still pressed to the chewed end. "How the hell… does this turn me on?"

I laughed under my breath—quiet, unhinged.

"This is so fucking wrong."

And yet I kissed it again.

Longer.

Slower.

My eyelids fluttered half-shut, and I whispered, "You're inside me, Serene… everywhere. Always."

Mine.

The same way she'd always been.

I pocketed the pencil gently. Like it was a piece of her I wasn't supposed to have.

But now I did.

I sat back, high on the invisible taste of her, letting the empty classroom hum around me

Then—

The door burst open.

Footsteps. Fast. Desperate.

Serene.

My gaze snapped up, heart hitching in my throat.

She was running.

Face pale. Eyes red. Cheeks wet.

Something was wrong.

Terribly, fucking wrong.

"I-Ilay?" she choked out, her voice cracked and trembling like glass about to shatter. Her knees almost gave out, and she caught herself against a desk.

And just like that—

The rush vanished.

The high was gone.

Only ice was left in my veins.