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She had thought of him as mysterious at first. Well everyone had thought that. How could they not? Mark Grayson with his leather jackets, his flashy mohawk and his carefree attitude. He did what he wanted and when he wanted and no one could tell him anything.
It wasn't even so much that she was overly attracted to him at first. Sure he was handsome. Everyone in school could've told you that but his bad boy vibe had just never been her type until one day when her best friend had told her that she had heard a rumor that he was interested in her.
She had tried not to take notice of the rumor especially after having such a disastrous relationship with Todd Williams but there were days where he had suddenly caught her eye. Small glances, in the hallways really, nothing more but enough to make eye contact and make her blush furiously at the devilsih smirks he would send her way.
She had still tried to ignore it but one particular day where Todd's harassment had been simply too much for her, Mark had appeared out of nowhere, like a shining knight in armour rescuing a damsel in distress.
Todd had gone to hit him and when he had caught that fist Amber finally stopped trying to ignore Mark Grayson.
She really wasn't looking for a relationship to start with. She though that maybe he could just use a friend.
That was the problem with throwing a starving dog a bone. It would always come back hungrier.
Take and take and take until your cupboards were bare.
For every moment she spent in his company, there was something increasingly sinister in the way he would look at her.
Only in a certain light, but definitely there. Something frenzied. Obsessive. A sort of intensity he hadn’t earned yet.
She didn’t ask how he knew things about her that he shouldn't have known. The names of her neighbors and parents he hadn’t even met yet. What she had for dinner last night and the color of her sheets. It was sick, but there's something easy about it — to know he had already done the hard parts — memorizing the small talk and a lifetime full of anecdotes. Like spotting an animal in the forest and knowing it's already been watching you for hours.
Maybe she was put together wrong. Wired to feel comfort where there should be revulsion. Fascination where there should be fear.
His looks didn’t help. soft lashes, big hands. sharp angles and sparkling eyes the color of mahogany.
Some days he would kiss her like he might never get the chance to again. teeth knocking in enthusiasm. He couldn’t seem to decide on what to do with his mouth or his hands, so he would do it all. Pawing at her ass and nearly chewing through her bottom lip. Winding his hand around to cradle her jaw as he choked her on his tongue and she would always leave those types of kisses unable to think straight for days.
It was almost a regular occurrence now but that very first time had been unique to understanding their unlawful dynamic. She had caught a whiff of his grocery store cologne on the breeze from the open window. Usually, freshly showered and on her way to bed. The fear would sink a stone in her gut.
She had called his name softly under her breath. Disbelieving.
And of course he had stepped out from the shadows in the corner of the room on the second try of his name, smiling dopily. He became unsettling when she noticed the almost mad look in his eyes.
“You shouldn't leave your window open like that. You never know when something bad could happen."
She pictured him scaling the side of the building to creep in and would suddenly felt sick. An unease that became so much worse once she had found out that he was not scaling the wall whatsoever but flying through her window with alien powers.
“Like what? you're gonna chop me up into little pieces?" She had replied aiming for humor but landing more towards paranoia.
He frowned and tutted, disapproving. “I wouldn't've made any noise if i was gonna kill you, silly."
“Besides," he shrugs. “I could’ve done that an hour ago when you were in the shower."
“Here — like this-"
Amber got lightheaded as he took a step forward.
Mark slid behind her and brought his hands up slow dragging a thumb across her throat. A cartoon slicing noise accompanied the movement, and Amber was keenly aware that she could feel her heartbeat in her molars. He bumped his hips into her ass and she squeaked, her stomach swooping, warmth pooling in the cradle of her hips.
Her head began to spin. The burning in her stomach started up again. That sick, hot combination of revulsion and lust. The thought that perhaps she had bitten off more than she could chew all at once.
She needed to take smaller bites.
The bile rising in her throat was halted as Mark stepped in front of her and kissed her with one of those half maddened kisses that would take her breath away and leave her scrambling for a coherent thought.
An hour later when her she would come down from the high of a spine tingling but shameful orgasm with their sweat mingled bodies clung to each other, such thoughts would arrive in her head and would fight a losing battle to not be pushed the thought aside, especially when Amber realized she had never given Mark her address.
And as this morbid and frightful but exciting routine became more regular over the course of their relationship, Amber shamefully would continue to push down the unease and pretend not to notice his possessiveness in favor of his heart warming I loves you’s before burying his face between her legs and showering her in a disturbing kind of love.