Chapter 3
Surprises



My head told me to scream, and my heart was running a marathon, I felt frozen. I was petrified. His hands grazed along the hem of my high waists, before he gripped tightly, and ripped it off. Pieces of it’s clothe scattered on the damp forest ground. My mind grasped bits and pieces of the moment that was flashing before my eyes, and I let out an ear-piercing scream.

“No one can hear you, baby.” He snickered, and I flinched as he ripped off my top. Leaving me in nothing but my undergarments.

My breath came out shaky, and uncontrolled as I screamed louder. But, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had to try harder. I had to escape him. Peering up at my intoxicated captor, I realized that I wasn’t his first victim. He was too skilled at knowing all of my moves. This sick bastard had most likely taken another girl’s innocence, too, just like he was going to take mine. His eyes ignited, as I tried pushing him away but like he was the predator, he hungrily eyed his prey.

“Get away from me!” I screeched, frantically pounding, and pushing at his chest.

“Stop it.” He roared, latching his filthy fingers around my waist, and yanking me towards him.

It seemed as if everything I did to push him away, made my situation worse. His hand viciously ripped off my remaining undergarments, and his right first came up, and collided into my face. The copper taste burning my palettes; He stroked himself more, getting off at my resistance. Screaming louder did no justice although, I cried out anyway. His harsh grip making it impossible to escape, I kicked at his shins. Causing a well-earned grunt, but his face-etched anger.

I’m going to die. I thought to myself. Might as well go down with a fight.

My fingers pried at his face, leaving a raw trail of blood to trickle onto my chest. Motherfucker. Now you can remember me, with that scar. I rejoiced, knowing the scar was deep enough to leave a mark, but it was replaced with an odd feeling; fear.

“You bitch!” He cursed, touching his deep scar on his cheek, softly.

I tried to fight him again, but his hand rose up again, and I shut my eyes letting out a muffled cry. Stop hitting me you bastard… no impact. Peeking an eye open, I scanned the area in front of me; he was nowhere to be seen. Hesitantly glancing around, I gasped when my eyes fell onto a dark figure pounding their fist into his face relentlessly. Get the fuck up. My subconscious shouted, and I scurried behind a tree, grasping onto the bits of tattered items of clothing that laid sprawled across the ground.

“How dare you lay a fucking hand on her. You. Sick. Fucking. Bastard.” The figure with an accent roared.

Mentally, I thanked my savior. But the grunts died down, and were soon replaced with twigs snapping in the distance. My body tensed, and my hand began to sweat, as I attempted to scramble up to my feet. A strong grip however stopped my attempt, and I whimpered.

“P-please. I’ll do anything, don’t hurt me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He whispered, ducking down, and picking me up in his arms. But I didn’t have the strength, nor any power to bite back. So, I nuzzled myself into his chest, enveloped in his intoxicating sweet minty aroma. Trying to erase the tainted images that flashed through my mind, as my heavy eyelids closed shut.

The dull aching pain centered in the back of my head, worsened as I stirred uncomfortably. My eyes had to adjust to my surroundings, but nothing looked familiar. Where am I? I questioned to myself, before flashes of the previous night all came back to me.

“You’re up.” A voice spoke, scaring me out of my own thoughts. Causing me to fall backwards onto the rough carpet. May I add, smelly too? My head shot back up to look to see foreign jerk, perched on the side of the armchair.

My large confused eyes blinked at him before putting all the pieces together. He was the dark unknown figure. . . my savior?

“I brought you clothes.” He muttered, shaking me from my confused thoughts.

“What? Why?” Did he sleep? “Did you sleep? I probed him, as his eyes slowly traveled up to mine.

“No, now go shower.” He demanded.

“Why not?”

“Because, I didn’t. Now go shower.” He clenches his jaw, giving me a nasty glare.

I do need a shower, I’m sore, and beaten up. With a high chance of twigs nestled, into my semi-matted hair. My inner subconscious shot me a glare, as I walked over to the door.

“Shower here. Cameron has company.” He replied, ruffling his set back curls.

I narrowed my eyes at him, before crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not taking a shower, when you’re here.”

“Take the shower, or I will wash you myself.” He bargained.

My eyes widened at the thought of foreign jerk washing me. He wouldn’t wash me.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Bambi.” Bambi?

“Don’t call me, Bambi.” I retorted, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Go take a shower, Emilia.”

“It’s Mia!”

I clenched my jaw, and balled my fists up before storming into his bathroom. Idiot. Just because he saved me, doesn’t mean he magically has some sort of fucked up power over me. He’s as infuriating as the sex-crazed maniac who almost raped me last night. Take a shower. The bitch of my self-conscious reminded me. But, as I reached the hem of my shirt, my muscles ached, causing me to wince loudly. How the hell was I to take a shower if I couldn’t get the damn shirt off? I look down at the foreign shirt, and recognize his strong scent, but mentally heave; at the fact I was about to ask him the stupidest question.

Peeking the door open, I spotted him lying on his bed; Hands tucked under a mop of pushed back curls. His eyes shut, and his visible facial piercing’s glistening in the sun, he looked different. Almost peaceful… Not the brooding prick I had rudely been acquainted with throughout my stay on campus.

“I can feel you staring at me.” His raspy voice makes me jump as his eyes slowly locked onto mine. “Why haven’t you taken a shower yet?” He questions.

“I…I uh. I need help, I can’t take off your shirt.” I mutter, keeping my gaze focused on my feet. The slight creak of his bed, and the glimpse of his combat boots in front of mine, he motions for me to walk into the bathroom. Pulling the hem up, I stop him.

“Close your eyes.” I peer up at him, and notice how small I was compared to his broad features.

“I can’t make any promises, love.” He snickers at my timid-ness.

“Don’t call me, love.” I warn.

“I’ll close my damn eyes. Lift your hands up.”

His big shirt rises up slowly over my head before being chucked aside. My arms covering my womanly parts, as quickly as I could, reassuring myself that he wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway.

“Relax, there isn’t much there. To be quite honest, you’re not that appealing.” And there it is. Foreign Jerk is back. Glaring back up at him, he shrugs before strutting out.

“I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole, what makes you think I would want you to find me the least bit appealing?” I hiss back, slamming the door shut.

Fucker. I mentally screamed. Do I look that bad? I gasped, when I saw my reflection in the mirror. My hair, not as matted, as I had imagined, but the purple specs of bruising was scattered around my once empty canvas of skin. My eyes were dark, and gloomy looking. I do look horrible. My eyes rested on my breasts, and I turned slightly to glance at my rear. I have an ample amount of assets, what is he talking about. ‘There isn’t much there.’ I mocked him, before stepping into his shower, and turning the knob to hot.

Tickling my skin, the rough water hurt at first, but the steam numbed the ache after running underneath it for a few minutes. Dragging the suds filled washcloth, I scrubbed hard, trying to somewhat scrub off the filth of a man that touched me last night. No doubt, he would be lurking in my subconscious dreams for a while. All I could do was try, and forget.

The week had flown by, and I surprisingly felt much better. Classes weren’t all that difficult, although many of the professors warned us that not all university students were officially settled in, and it would be advised that we all get accustomed to the work so far. The tainted memory of that night, had soon vanished as did the delicious ‘half baked’ Ben & Jerry’s ice cream that lay empty on my bed. Ice cream becoming a refugee for all the times, I had woken up screaming; tonight was one of them.

Louis leaned onto the wall beside me, taking the empty pint, and dirty spoon from my hand.

“Now we have two screamers. Are you sure you don’t want me to bring you to a therapist? Maybe this time, one of you will listen, and go.” He muttered, and I raised a brow. Who else screams?

He simply shrugged. “You’ve outdone his screams, but Harry’s can get quite scary. He locks his door, too, which makes it that much harder to coax the bastard.” Louis chuckled, smiling down at me.

“How are you feeling?” He adds.

“Better, and full.” I smile up at him.

But he shakes his head, and sits next to me on the bed. “I mean about what happened last week. We were looking around for the longest time. All we heard were your screams, and Harry was practically going insane. I called the cops, they know what to do.”

I scoffed. “ I find Harry concern for me quite odd. The kid hates my guts. Did you need my testimony?”

“No, we’re actually. Well I am actually quite close with the police department over here. It helps the mates and I whenever we’re out. Again, sweet cheeks, don’t stress over Harry. He’s not one to open up easily.” He flashes a killer smile, squeezing my hand for reassurance.

“You better get some sleep, I have class in an hour. I should be up anyway.”

“Promise me you’ll come to me if have any problems? I feel like I need to protect you. You’re so small, and I can’t help but cringe if I think of that bastard who hurt you. Okay?” he cocked his head to his side, and I playfully punched him hard on the shoulder. He mouthed an ouch, before clutching his shoulder

“That’s for thinking that I can’t protect myself! And I promise.” I smile at him, before he heads out of the dorm room, closing the door softly.

My head shot over to where Cameron softly snored. Boy is she a heavy sleeper.

As I finished applying the last bits of my makeup, I smoothed out the material of my top before checking the time. 7:45. The bathroom door beside me creaks open, and Cameron’s head popped in.

“You always dress so preppy. By the way, your makeup looks flawless.” She smiles, bending down to wash her face.

“Oh, shutup, we almost dress alike. And thank you, considering I had more time on my hands, I guess it looks better.” I shrugged, and she laughed.

“I prefer tighter clothing. And you have the eyes for that Cleopatra, cat eyeliner. Definitely not me.” She cocked a bro, pulling her makeup bag out.

“What time are your classes?”

“I have class with you today.”

“Want me to contour your cheekbones?” I offer, since she’s in such a rush.

The unusual cold campus air, hit like a pound of bricks as Cameron, and I walked over to class. The cobble pavement below us, made it that much harder to walk in heels without almost tripping.

“If I would’ve known the grounds on campus were like this, I may have gone out and bought an actual pair of wedges.” She scoffed.

“Our parents were so prissy when it came to our appearances. I’ve
grown to become accustomed to all different pavements.”

“If my feet could talk, they would be screaming. Literally.” She sigh’s resting a moment, before strutting into the classroom.

“Ah the last two. You will be assigned partners. These are permanent. You will all read certain novels, and at the end of the semester I expect a joint or two separate ten page written essay’s.” The middle-aged professor spoke holding up the sheet of names close to her face.

“These are all alphabetical placements, so Preston. You are with…ahh Malik. Stand so she knows who you are.” She smiles, motioning for Cameron to sit next to her lover boy. “Last, but not least. The wonderful, but a little late Emilia Rose . . .you are partnered with um . . . Harry Styles.” She blurts out, and my neck almost breaks in half as I turn towards her.

“What! No!” I silently shout at her. But she shoots me a sympathetic look.

“He’s seated in the back. You’ll see him.”

I low growl escapes my lips, as I mentally scream and curse at the sky. Why couldn’t it have been in any order but alphabetical. Calm down, just make it clear you want nothing to do with him. I nod my head, before taking a deep inhale, before stopping at his desk.

“Well, well. Look who’s cleaned up? Drunk at night, and prissy, and proper in the morning.” He smirks, tapping the seat next to him.

Rolling my eyes, I sit down, and place my bag on the desk to block his view. “Just because, I go out and have fun doesn’t mean I lose my morals. I still dress properly.” I talk behind my bag.

“Sure.” He scoffs, and I mentally roll my eyes, trying to keep them fixated on the board.

“Just shut up.” I growl, peeking my apple laptop open.

“Well, as the wonderful Mrs. Courant stated, we are partners.”

“I will do my work, and you do yours. Simple.” I snapped.

“Trust me Bambi, I’m not excited about it either.” He raised his voice, a little, and I glared at him.

“Stop calling me, Bambi.”

“Oh, but I like calling you Bambi, Bambi.” He cocked a brow, and I let out a loud groan.

“Go piss off someone else, because I’m not going to tolerate your inanity.”

He scoffed mid sentence, but Mrs. Courant cleared her throat indicating we pay attention. “Emilia . . . Harry.” She warned, before looking back down at her paper. “Now I want each of you to voice your opinions on tragedy. Tell me what you want to read with your partner.” My hand rose up, and I could hear Harry huff out behind me.
“Yes Emilia?”

“Mia.” I smiled. “I’d like if I could read Letter’s to my Immortal Beloved. I’ve read it over a thousand times.” I beam.

“Ah, a great snippet. Any others?” She glances at Harry, and he smirks down to himself before peering up at her.
“How about Tess of the d’Urbervilles.” He murmurs, and the teacher smiles brightly.

“Great choice. I assume you two will find more books on tragedy for next weeks class?” She smiles, and continues on to the next pair.

“Tess of the d’Urbervilles? Really?” I narrow my eyes at him.

“You would fit Tess, and I would be Alec. Although, just not in love with you. Or in any way trying to seduce you.”

“How wonderful, at least I’d be able to murder you at the end! Tess of the d’Urbervilles is a horrible book for this topic, and nothing along the lines of tragedy. Just a poor girl seduced into having sex, left with an unborn child in her womb, and with no one there to help. I would’ve killed you months before.” I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to grasp some sort of hold onto the concept he was trying to portray.

Tess of the d’Urbervilles, was a book not many quite understood. The beginning was a drab to some, but interesting to those who read the whole paragraph they were reading. You had to read, and reread to fully get what the author tried to portray. Otherwise, the book would have made no sense, and been a total waste of your time. On another note, I did like the book. Just. . . not for this category and I didn’t understand why he had picked it. Sure, it was a tragedy. In a sense, she struggled all her life. But, it just didn’t fit.

“Better to be put out of my misery, than suffer around you.” He snickered, twirling a pen around his index finger.

“You know you’re really pissing me off. I don’t know you, and you’re already on my last nerve.” I spat. Feeling the eyes of the campus peers on my back.

“I can already tell you’re a prissy bitch.” He seethed, slamming the pen onto the desk.

“You’re a pain in my ass!” I shot up, balling my fists on my sides.

A smirk etched onto his chiseled face, he laughed before picking up the pen and twirling it around his slender finger again. Fume practically oozed out of my pores, and I cursed at myself for not having some sort of control. He was clever, and knew how to press all the buttons one tend to hide behind. He knew when, and how, and it pissed me off knowing that I had no say in it. No one had a say in it, he was simply programmed to do so. But, I couldn’t quite fathom why. Why he was so inhibited from reality, why he tucked his true self under the tattoos and piercings that intricately designed his skin. To be completely honest, he was intricate himself.


“Mia, maybe you should take the rest of the hour of class, and steam off. I’ll send you an email on the layout of the work due.” The mellow tone of the middle aged professor spoke from behind me.

Flashing her a sympathetic look, I grabbed my bag, and promised that I would try and keep my composure in the succeeding weeks. She simply smiled; I guess subconsciously understanding my dilemma.

“How can I keep sane in this damn campus.” I muttered to myself, placing a unlit cigarette in-between my lips. Scrambling through my bag for my lighter, a hand flicked one on for me instead.

“Thanks.” I puff out, glancing up at the stranger. “Stephen?” I smile.

“Mia, It’s nice seeing you after . . . What? Two years.” He smiles down at me, and I blush looking down at my feet. “Quite the commotion you caused in class today.”

“You have class with me?” I question furrowing my eyebrows together.

“Yea, Yea. I do. How have you been? How’s Lisa?” He questions, tucking his hands into his front jeans.

“I’ve been good. They’re okay. They finally divorced after years of bickering. You…Ah. You’ve grown up, I see.” I smile running my fingertips along the scruff that grew alongside his jaw, and cheek.

“You’ve shrunk, I see.” He jokes, and I glare at him.

“I have not!” I cross my arms over my chest.

“Sure, whatever you say midge.”

“What’s with everyone, and these nicknames? Midge!” I throw my hands up in the air.

“Short for midget, I think it suits you well.” He nudges me, and I blow smoke in his face.

“Pleasant.” He laughs, swatting the smoke away from his face. “So, um . . . I guess, I’ll see you around.” He shrugs, smiling down at me.

“I guess, it was nice seeing you again.” I smile, before walking off to my dorm.

“Hey! Mia! Wait!” He ran after me, panting a bit. “Maybe we could catch up? Watch a movie, or you know just hang out.” He shrugged.
“That would be, um nice. Come over and we could watch a movie like old times.” I smiled. “I’m in the Sigma Phi frat house. Ask one of the boys where my room is.”

“Yeah? Awesome. I . . . uh . . . I’ll see you around six?” He offered, scratching the back of his head.

“Sound like a plan.”

“Bye midge.” He chuckled before walking off.

My cheeks burned from smiling so much, but I was happy to have another familiar face on campus. One who wasn’t purposely out to push my buttons, but one I could confide in. How the hell did my ex, wind up at Boulder State.

Notes

I'm sorry it's been so long, I had loads of tests this week, but SPRING BREAK WOOHOO!

A tad bit upset at the rating, but oh well, i still think i did great.

I will be posting up links to Emilia's Outfit's as well as Harry's. If you'd like a better look into all of Emilia, and Harry's outfits. RATE, COMMENT AND SUBSCRIBE!

OOh and check out Stephen in theCharacter list!

Emilia