The only version of me Jamie doesn’t talk back to.
So fine.
If he wants to be bratty, if he wants to run his mouth, if he wants to dress like he belongs to the entire fucking campus—
He can answer tohim.
To me.
But the part of me I don’t show in daylight.
The part that is only reserved for him.
I drag the bag out.
Put on the mask.
The gloves.
The hoodie.
The black boots.
The transformation hits instantly—my breathing goes deeper, my head quiets, my voice instantly becomes deeper, control snaps into place like a loaded gun cocking back.
Time to remind my princess who he belongs to.
The bass from the backyard speakers shakes the ground. People are everywhere—drunk, high, horny, stupid. They don’t notice the masked man slipping between them.
I do one slow circle around the crowd before I finally see him.
Jamie.
Not in that tiny slutty costume—thank fucking god—but he’s still a goddamn sight.
White cropped tank clinging to his waist.
Skinny jeans hugging his legs.
Black hoodie unzipped, sleeves pushed up, messy blonde hair falling into his eyes.
He looks soft.
He looks pretty.
He looksmine.
And even from fifty feet away, I see it—he’s still angry.
Good.
Let’s make him angrier.
I pull out the burner phone.
Lex (masked): Hey,Princess. Did you miss me?
I hit send.
