Chapter 7- Czar

I'm not sure when it started- this fixation with honey-blonde hair, dorky cuteness and oversized geometric rimless glasses- but I do remember that one day, I was riding down the strip of asphalt that cuts through the woods, Yamaha R6 motorcycle rumbling beneath me when I nearly had an accident… Because a flash of silver caught my eye and I turned to look. Through the visor of my helmet, I saw her… Hera fucking North.

An urban goddess with artic blue eyes you can get lost in for days- almost the colour of frost- thick, long lashes framing them; silky-smooth tresses that reach her waistline and pale-pink lips that are always in a relaxed line- the kind that tells you she doesn't smile often, but when it does happen, the impact could bring the damned skies down. Indifferent, artless seduction in knee-high boots, a halter-neck top and a short, checkered skirt, with a look like nothing could possibly interest her. Instantly, I wanted to know why in hell I didn't know her already.

Two hours of research later, I found my answer. My Ice Queen is a ghost, living all by herself in a sprawl of real estate long forgotten on the other side of civilization- as loose as the term is here. And while to the rest of the world who fear and avoid her, she is a spooky, bizarre little blueblood who might be possessed, I definitely want to be haunted if she is the one doing it. It sounds like a welcome break from all the other things that refuse to let me sleep at night. And those sweet lips of hers? They look like fucking therapy and I know they will taste like heaven- a stark contrast to the dark energy she pulls around her and harnesses like it is thunder at her finger tips.

It's been a week since my neurosis started and to be honest, I have tried to cure myself of it. I just couldn't. She is definitely a dangerous one... A crack of light in the air-tight walls of my life- an existence that has been as volatile and fragile as a bomb since I made my first code from scratch. Yet here I am, wondering how long I can go without seeing her again.

Just eight hours. Give or take.

Because I will be here when she is ready to leave for Novadale High in the morning, pressed white shirt tucked into a plain or pleated skirt. If the top-stitched hem reaches her knees, then she will pull on long, black socks and slide into some desert wedges matching her outfit, but if it doesn't, God, it will be those heeled leather boots that stop at her lower thighs again… Those man-traps that contrast so beautifully with her exposed skin.

I honestly never knew I was into five-foot-five spooks with blue eyes until I saw her that misty morning, every inch of her so different from anything I've ever known, felt or tasted, yet beckoning on me like it is all I have been surviving on for the past twenty-five years of my life. Gorgeous. Bewitching. Skin like ivory, pale seashells and heady fantasies. A gait that made you know that she didn't float on air. Not really. She trampled softly on destruction, unbothered.

Weeks down the line since I first saw this masterpiece and lost my mind, I am standing in the woods just across from one of the town's service roads, some hundred metres past the ostentatious and dramatic stone villa people in these parts run away from like a death sentence, dying by inches from the kind of addiction that keeps you high for days right until you need another fix. Hera. Fuck. My nicotine. Czar's mania.

Bored. Spoiled. Isolated. So mine.

Yet I don't know exactly what I want from her. If I did, I wouldn't be skulking about like a certified creep. I would have stolen my enchanting new obsession already. But I’m absolutely sure my demands will be many when it comes down to it and hell will first freeze over before I don't get them.

As for the curious set from Victoria's Secret she came sauntering into the dark woods in? Bloody. Hell. I don't think she realises that sexy pair of lacey, black underwear and wireless cups have now made a permanent imprint on my mind… and there are several different angles I could take her from in them… But what I'm very certain of is the fact that tonight is the last time another man but me will see her in them. The date she had over earlier, who, a little over twenty minutes ago, left the mansion to come smoke a blunt in here is definitely ripe for his only warning.

So when she runs, I don't follow. Instead, I head deeper inside the deciduous vegetation in search of Blaze Manchester Humphrey. It takes me just five minutes.

"What were you doing at North Manor this late at night, Blaze?"

He looks surprised to find out that I know his name. But then again, he has no idea that if I spilled every single thing I knew about him, he w

ould bolt from pure fear.