'I know you're bored and sick of normal shit

I've seen the looks and heard the fights and how you handle it

Let's get stoned and break some bottles in the parking lot

Maybe talk about the fact that I am every single thing he is not'

'Time healed all wound... Time made us forget.'

It clearly wasn't true for me. It had been three days since that awful day, since my birthday, and the same flashbacks kept replaying clearer and clearer, along with every moment and possible warning signs from Spencer. I also remembered more and more of the inks on Blade's skin, as I used them every night to help me fall asleep.

The old adage appeared even more like a lie when I walked by the familiar pink neon. I remembered everything, and I almost turned back in front of the large glass door.

No, I had to move on. I couldn't keep mourning in my dark bedroom and only get out for school.

Besides, we were Wednesday afternoon, and it meant it was practice time for the whole football team.

Yes, yes, I was pretending to be strong while avoiding carefully Spencer like a coward; that was what I'd been doing for the past days. So after one last glance at the parking lot to make sure there was no mint green car, I grabbed the pink handle with a shaky hand and pulled on the heavy door, as there was no one to open it for me.

As soon as the colorful atmosphere reached me, I was reminded why I'd done everything to avoid Spencer. The rows of teal booths led my gaze directly to the far corner with the only booth smaller than the others, sheltered from the rest of the wide room by a recess in the pale wall, and its emptiness echoed in my chest.

It wasn't any better when I glimpsed the sign above the counter announcing the chocolate milkshakes at 25 cents, and the background noise of low music coming from the jukebox and quiet chatters resonated too loudly as it missed Spencer and I's carefree laughter. Actually, everything from the checkered floor, which had got stained of pink mixture too many times, to the white walls covered in memories of events we'd attended for most – our wide foolish grins were even appearing on some photos – was a painful reminder.

People always talked about the tearing pain of heartbreak. Yet losing a best friend was as painful; it was a duller but deeper ache, and losing both was the worst kind of pain. I not only had memories of two blissful years of love to struggle with, but a lifetime of shared moments.

I realized I was still standing like an empty shell in the entrance when the ding of the door opening rang behind me. I had to move on.

Although I didn't step forward, and I headed to the booth at my right, near the windows where the sun was beating through. The heat would surely be less suffocating than if I went to sit in the opposite corner. My back to it, I was facing the clock more cautiously than Cinderella, and it wasn't because of my grounding. If it was already an insurmountable ordeal to face the memories, it was clear I wasn't ready to meet Spencer, and even less his 'explanations'.

In spite of the indelible torment that came with the flashbacks and all the questions it arose inside, I was terrorized to find out his reasons because nothing would ever be the same after that.

I had already tried, or more exactly, my hopeless, crushed heart had tried finding a plausible 'explanation' for what I had seen, and even ignoring the rumors going around school, which were fueled by my red eyes and snide tattletales, the images of an almost naked Spencer and Diane on each other always led me to the same and only explanation. I wasn't crazy, nor foolish, at least, not to this point.

That was why it was easier to avoid Spencer. Well, 'easier' was maybe not the best word as it was hard with my blurred head to not run into him, especially at school, and I had never spent as much time in the girl bathroom during breaks. Though the hardest was not at school, since apparently, Spencer was really adamant about 'explaining' to me. He was standing by my door every morning, and knocking at my window every night, while in between, he used every possible way to reach me: roses, chocolates, letters, cuddly toys... which I had just dropped at the church charity because, despite the hole in my chest, I wasn't heartless, and I couldn't throw them away.

Though I only got rid of these recent gifts, and the memories I'd taken down the other day were still piled up in my closet.

In short, I was torn between strong and weak, angry and broken, between needing to move on and wanting to turn back, and that left me standing here, lost.

"My sweet Dorothy, how are you?"

Here was the simple question I couldn't answer, and the blink of my unfocused eyes probably gave away the answer before I pulled myself together and turned to the woman standing in front of me.

"I'm fine, and you, Nellie?" My words and smile were pre-recorded, a reflex I'd learned long ago to be 'polite', but luckily, it was the answer that always was the easiest, as it stopped people's questions.

Crazy how one little word was enough to outweigh all the signs screaming the contrary from the heavy bags under my eyes to the failings in my voice, as if it was a secret code, or maybe people just cared about courtesy.

Though I could see that Nellie cared much more than that as a frown shadowed her round and wrinkled face for a second before she spoke up, "I'm fine too. My arthritis is teasing my old bones, and the early weather is playing up with the harvests, but I'm fine!"

The smile that pulled at my lips was genuine this time. She'd understood that I didn't want to talk, and I was glad for a little distraction. "You work too much!"

Like always, she dismissed me with a gesture of her hand. Despite her daily complaints about this diner, she loved this place that she had built with her husband, and she had always turned down every juicy offer from possible buyers.

However, the silence following wasn't usual, and it quickly brought back all the reasons that I wasn't fine. It was generally the moment Spencer and I would tease her about using industrial products instead of the fruits from her orchard, even if we both knew it was her authenticity that made her milkshakes the best.

She probably noticed this awkward silence, which was more explicit than a 'fine', because instead of her playful rant she would always give us, she offered me a sympathetic smile.

"Cherry milkshake?"

"Yes, please." I needed to erase the bitter taste climbing up my throat.

"It's on me!"

I was about to argue, but she turned her head to the side as if someone was calling her, and in less than a second, she had disappeared. Did I look this pitiful these days that everyone was offering me things?

My fingers sneaked inside my bag on that thought, though the coin I pulled out wasn't to pay. I wouldn't have dared to contradict Nellie because she could be scary, and the small circle of metal was too precious for me as I flipped it in my hand.

Maybe I could have used any other object to stop the shakes of my fingers. But there was something special, almost hypnotizing about this little coin. It wasn't enough to forget, yet it always calmed the tears when they threatened to break through.

"Diane, please!"

I realized I'd zoned out farther than expected, and intricate designs of branches were playing before my eyes when a voice brought me back to the Rose's diner. There was something awfully familiar about it, maybe because I knew too well what those cracks felt like inside the chest before echoing around, and also because the owner of the voice was familiar.

I barely lifted my head that I already spotted them, standing by the door, just one booth away from me. The brown strands perfectly flicked up and arranged with an ironically pure white headband were enough to bring back all the flashbacks I'd tried desperately to forget, along with everything raging inside, and before the tears could slip through the cracks, my gaze trailed to the owner of the voice, recognizing the large black glasses and baby blond ponytail.

I could see Rachel's notebook was peeking out from her pink apron, and her hands were empty, so it wasn't about an order of the diner, and judging by her crushed expression, not even hidden by the plastic of her rims, it must have been important.

"You know how important cheerleading is for me."

"Well, you should have thought about it before." Diane had her back to me, but I could guess the faint contentment coming with the twitch of her lips. "It wasn't that 'important' yesterday."

I'd been about to glance away from their conversation, I swore. But I couldn't as the matter was too 'important', and it was my responsibility.

"Rachel, what is happening?"

The hope that lighted her gaze as she lifted it to me was strengthening my will to intervene.

"Diane put me as substitute because I arrived late at practice. But it was exceptional, we were driving my brother from his leave," Rachel spoke so fast that the cracks in her voice threatened to break into sobs, yet she didn't slow down. "I swear it won't happen ever again."

"Hey, it's okay. It's understandable." I held her gaze, reaching out my hand even though she was too far for me to soothe her, and then, I forced myself to turn to my cousin, all my muscles tensing, even the one in my chest, as I faced her for the first time since my birthday.

"This team is like family, so there's no way we'll allow to do things like that to a member. This isn't what we advocate, and I don't approve of this decision." I was surprised that there was not a single crack or shake in my voice; on the contrary, it was tight.

"Oh, but from what I recall you weren't at the practice either?" Diane took a step towards my table, and this time, I recognized the underlying tone announcing nothing good. "So it isn't you who decide anymore. You're not the captain anymore."

"What?! I..." The cracks were back, and they swallowed my whole voice as Diane was once more hitting me harshly.

"You were voted out, since you missed a major practice."

It was a knife in the back, and I could feel it joining the hole in my chest. I now noticed the white jacket ornamented with the two red letters, the one I never wore because I preferred to sport the same color as the rest of the team, and I also took in the three girls beside her, some of her dearest friends from the team who had surely supported this taking up of power. They were wearing the same satisfied smile as Diane, and it was frightening as I was looking up at them standing before me.

I had put my sweat and soul into this team, and I was the captain because I'd trained for the hardest figures, had put hours of choreographing, and a lot of heart to unite this family as I called it. She couldn't do that. Yet all these arguments didn't come out.

"But... But..." I once more didn't have the words as I glanced desperately for some help, but except for Rachel, who now looked even more on the verge of tears, none of the four other members of this 'family' had pity.

"But what? Do you have a doctor's certificate to justify your absence?" Diane's lifted eyebrows made me lower my gaze.

Of course, I didn't have a certificate, although I had been infected by the most painful poison, and she knew it, as she was the snake. She knew I'd been avoiding cowardly the practices because they were too close to the football field, and too close to her too.

"You're already lucky that I didn't put you as a substitute."

She wouldn't?! Would she? I was one of the few who did the hardest figures because of my light weight and hard work.

However, when I snapped my head up at her again, I realized she would totally do it.

"But be careful because you seem to lose a lot of things lately..."

Spencer, it was who was written at the stretching corner of her pink fleshy lips, in her slightly crinkled nose from where she was looking down at me, and probably all over my broken features.

She was taking everything from me, treacherously and sneakily, and there was clearly no family for her, neither in the team, neither in blood. I was regretting all the efforts I'd made for her, and all the remarks I'd overlooked because she was my friend, my family.

I had been foolish once again, and I couldn't let her win, although it already looked like it as I was speechless, my fingers pathetically twisting the coin in a trigger motion under the table, and searching for possible ways to turn the tables, to put off that victorious glint in her eyes. There weren't many possibilities, as she had done everything so 'ladylikely', using the rules against me, and only one idea, which wasn't 'ladylike' at all, came to my mind, or maybe a magical apparition?

"Poor–"

"Dorothy!"

"Don't you see she's occupied? Can you please come back later?" Diane didn't even bother to glance back at the person calling me as she 'so kindly' replied for me.

For her defense, my mouth was hanging open, too stunned to answer. There was only one person who could make my name roll out of his lips and sound so... sharp.

"Oh, I'm sure you, lovely ladies, were finished and will let me borrow Dorothy!" That charming and devilish smirk, those transparent blue eyes, that aura of danger, and those mesmerizing inks... I'd pictured them so much in the last days that I wondered if I was dreaming.

But Diane seemed to see them too, her gaze focused on those tattoos too, or more exactly, on the shiny knife Blade was playing with.

At least, her hazel eyes had lost that mocking glint this way, even if it was just temporary and even if she was still wearing the captain's jacket, which her face had taken the shade.

"S-sure."

My jaw was still dropping lower and lower as I glanced between Diane and her friends, who were almost shriveling under my table, the empty spot from where Rachel had disappeared – surely the wisest of us all – and the one who was responsible for all fo that without even losing his smirk. 

It was more captivating than when he'd threatened that waiter for my birthday because there was no hint of tension on his features here, despite the one he was sharpening in the air. On the contrary, he had an amused twinkle in his clear eyes, and maybe I could have also found the situation funny if I hadn't been still processing everything, looking like a fish.

When his hand appeared in front of me, I still hadn't uttered a sound, but I didn't need as I gazed up at his crystalline eyes inviting me to dive. I had no hesitation, putting the coin back in my bag and taking his large hand instead.

It surely wasn't wise when I didn't know why he needed to 'borrow' me with a knife, but he'd just offered me an escape once more, realizing my silent wish, and I felt a rush of victory as we walked past the new cheerleading captain. Maybe it was just the contact of his rugged skin against my sweaty hand though.

I was just starting to realize as the sparks coming with his touch were back, and they were pulling me out of my stupor.

"Why are you here, Blade? Did you come for me?" My ability to speak was back too, and I had so many questions when we stepped outside.

He hadn't let go of my hand, so when he stopped in his tracks and turned to me, he was closer than I'd expected, his unique scent invading me whole. Tobacco and vanilla, with an underlying nuance I couldn't name... I had searched so much to place this contrasting mix in the last three days.

The thought of going back to the shooting range had crossed my mind many times for many reasons, yet I hadn't dared, and here he was.

"No, I was passing by, and I saw you through the window front." He offered me a shrug and a flash of his dimple, unaffected like last time. "You looked like you needed some help, pr– Dorothy."

I wasn't sure which of his last words pronounced so indolently made me tense, but I pulled away. "I don't need to be saved."

"Oh, I know. Your eyes were basically picturing how you'd shoot that chick!" He leaned closer to catch my gaze as if he was telling me a big secret, yet his voice was far from hushed, and I could only avert my eyes down, since I couldn't do the same with the corners of my lips.

"Let me guess, she's the captain cheerleader who terrorizes you? The captains are always evil."

"I am the cheerleading captain!" I snapped my head up, my large eyes meeting his widening one as he chuckled.

"Of course, should've guessed!"

"And I am a sweet captain," I assured him, though I quickly lost my conviction as I added in a mutter, "Well, I was..."

The past tense was something I struggled with these days. I had lost many things... and as I fiddled with my empty hands, it was almost ironic how it was the same twisting feeling as in my chest.

"Diane, this girl... she stole my position in the team, and... she's the one my boyfriend cheated on me with... the day of my birthday..."

"The bitch!"

It was only Blade's curse word that made me realize I had spoken the scary facts out loud. It was the first time I pronounced them, and they sounded even worse in my shaky voice.

"She's my cousin..."

"And? Should I be sorry?" He cocked an eyebrow, his smirk just hovering over his lips as it had come down with my pathetic confession.

"No, it just feels weird to hear it out loud."

I threw a sideways glance at this stranger with whom I had shared already many parts of me. I didn't know if it was his unique tattoos, his confident gait, his dangerous aura, accentuated today by his leather jacket, or maybe just his penetrating eyes, but he appeared like the perfect person to confide in. He wasn't one for pity or reason. He was brutally honest, and it felt good.

"I have more if you want? A fake hoe, a choir slut, a skank..." he was chanting curse words out really loud, and honestly, I didn't care if there was anyone around. All my attention was on his sparkling blue eyes and the way his voice echoed so smoothly despite the raw words, and he apparently had a lot more than what I could have ever thought of.

"A tramp, a slag, a–"

"Okay, I got the idea!" I softly laughed, stopping him before he could traumatize a poor innocent child or an old uptight woman.

"If I'd know I would've been less nice," he added, maybe a little too serious, and I didn't try to picture what he could have done 'less nice' than threatening her with a pocket knife. "I don't like those fake ass people."

"Don't tell me you don't find her attractive." If his mutter seemed to hold many things, mine was pure bitterness.

I shouldn't have said this. I didn't know why I'd said this.

"Not my type." The corners of his lips pulled down with a shrug before coming back in that same devious smile as his gaze roamed my body, leaving a trail of... sparking powder on its way.

I didn't dare to try to decipher what this silent but unequivocal reply meant, since I was already about to explode when he found my eyes again, and I could only avert them down to my hands occupied to play with only one item in them.

"What 'type'? Isn't it all about fucking?" The word felt so strange in my mouth, and it surely would even more if my mom heard me saying it, as she would wash my mouth with detergent and holy water. But after all, why make it such a forbidden word when it seemed to happen behind every closed door?

"Isn't it what you boys all want?"

I wasn't fair; I knew it. I was unleashing all my pent-up emotions on him when he had only helped me so far, when he was still a stranger. Yet he'd said it himself that he wasn't for romanticism and dating, and I couldn't take back my questions when I faced his penetrating eyes again.

"Maybe." He agreed, not the least offended or affected by my words. "But even if the girls I fuck are sluts, they don't hide it behind manners like your dear cousin, and I don't fool the chicks with beautiful promises." His gaze flicked down to the ring I was mindlessly spinning around my finger, and this stopped all those twists of my hands, brain, and even my steps.

When we'd started walking? It wasn't my preoccupation as his eyes were piercing through me. But we had definitely wandered farther than I'd realized with this discussion, as I could hear the traffic noise from the main road, and mainly, our words were still echoing in the silence, his last ones resonating even louder in the emptiness inside. 

Could he read me so easily? Was it written all over me, even in a little detail like this? Actually, this ring wasn't just a detail, and it was one of the most painful reminders, mocking me night and day. Yet I hadn't taken it off because before being a promise to Spencer, it was a promise I'd made to God and myself. At least, that was what I'd tried to convince myself, when maybe it was just like everything else, and I was lost on what to do.

In this instant, I was also lost in blue as I stared back into Blade's gaze, searching for an answer in all of this, or maybe for a way to forget again. There was a magnetic intensity in his clear eyes. But before I could reach anything I was searching for, he tore his gaze away, and mine stayed gravitating towards him, watching the way he shook his head just once and then, slid his hands in his leather jacket pockets.

Maybe I was staring a little creepily, but it was only fair, as he'd done the same last time. Besides, it was kind of fascinating how he was keeping that mysterious aura of danger in the plainest actions like fumbling for something in his pockets. When he pulled out a small rectangular box, I was hung on the movements of his hands again, and as his long fingers were sliding expertly the thin item, mine were, for once, immobile, the curiosity tickling another part of my body.

"Can I try?" My faint voice stopped all his movements and his eyes instantly snapped to mine. "Um, the cigarette." The silence still holding our previous conversation, and the wide look in his darker eyes made me specify and point to the white cylinder he'd been about to bring to his lips, which of course, slowly stretched into a Cheshire cat's smile in front of the red quickly coloring my cheeks.

Maybe wolfish grin would have been a better word in fact, as his eyes lighted up the same way the flame sprang on his lighter, and they looked more dangerous than the embers on the tip of his cigarette.

As he didn't reply, only keeping his mischievous gaze on me and taking a slow and deep inhale of the cigarette, I concluded that it was another 'no', just like the one time I'd asked my old aunt to try one of her cigarettes, and she'd told me it wasn't for a 'young lady like me'. However, Blade did reply, and his answer was nothing like I'd expected.

He grabbed the cigarette with his left hand, and after, unhurriedly letting out the smoke, he leaned closer.

"Dorothea... you should really be more careful about the words you choose..." His voice sounded even raspier with the smoke, or maybe it was just because he was whispering right above my ear.

Which words he was talking about? Even if I'd been completely clueless about the possible double-entendre of my words, the bad intentions crossing his dark gaze were too clear to not understand. So I chose to not add anything. It was wiser, and mostly, I was unable to form a sound as he was still so close, his whole wicked self from his eyes to his crooked smile, and his fingers...

I took a shaky breath just when his fingers put the cigarette between my parted lips, and of course, I didn't get to prepare before the smoke invaded my throat and my lungs in a burning trail. Let's say I was definitely pulled out of my daze with the coughing fit that followed.

"Don't inhale it all!" Blade advised me once I was already choking on my lungs, though I should have been grateful that he waited for me to catch my breath before he laughed. "You should stick to the guns!"

He took a blow of the cigarette again, his clear gaze fixed on me through the smoke and taunting me. So this time, I carefully observed the actions of his sinful lips as he closed them around the white stick, sucked slowly, and then inhaled.

"Give it to me! Let me do it!" I once more didn't think about my words as I jumped to grab the cigarette before he could put it to his lips again.

I was determined to get it right, and prove him wrong.

"Okay, but don't forget to not inhale it all straight." He cocked an eyebrow, keeping the cigarette in his hand, and in my view, he took this lesson a little too meticulously as his fingers from his other hand brushed and guided slowly my lips to illustrate his advice. "You take it slowly, and you can let some smoke out before breathing in."

I nodded, being careful to not waste the little breath I had left, and when he brought the cigarette to my lips, I followed his advice, not pulling the smoke straight to my lungs.

It indeed didn't sear as much as the first time, but it still itched my throat with the sour taste.

"That's it?" I asked after clearing my throat, and for once, the cracks in my voice weren't from my chaos of emotions, though it tasted almost as bitter. "I don't understand what's all this fuss about it. It doesn't even taste good."

"Ah, I'm sure you're more of a weed person. Too bad I don't have any on me!" He shook his head as if expecting me to ask, but I wouldn't have.

I had already enough of the lumpy taste that seemed to dry everything from my tongue to my chest.

"Why do you smoke if it tastes that bad?" I peered up at him as he still had the cigarette stuck at the corner of his smirk.

"It calms down." I was surprised that he at least answered this personal question, and so genuinely, yet it seemed to only raise more and more questions. "And it's like many things, the first time is always meh, but it gets better with practice."

And he was the one telling me to be careful with my words?! Though from the dimple indenting with each word, it was obvious he'd said each one on purpose.

"Let's try something..."

I was a little lost here, and I blamed the smoke for blurring my thoughts as I was standing there, just watching him take another pull of the cigarette and lean closer.

What was he 'trying'? My lungs didn't want another 'try' at the tobacco, yet when his finger reached under my chin, my whole body was leaning in to his touch, and when his tempting lips parted to exhale the smoke, I instinctively breathed in.

Luckily, it didn't tear any crack or cough, surely because there were still a few inches between our mouths, allowing the oxygen to mix in the smoke, and also because I was too hypnotized by his eyes. 

The whole time I inhaled and exhaled slowly, his gaze stayed diving into mine with that look that was pure sin. Well, his clear eyes were never anything else than wicked from what I'd seen so far, yet this look was the most wicked. It was darker like the night had fallen on the blue expanse and you knew you would drown in his bad intentions. It was the look he'd had before kissing me last time...

He did it again; he took another puff of the cigarette, tilting his head just an inch closer, and drawn by the darkness of his gaze, I inched closer too. The smoke was more intoxicating. But the thickness in the air, the burn traveling deep inside, and the dryness of my lips weren't because of this heady substance.

There was something more intimate than if our lips were touching as we were staring into each other eyes so close, and we kept doing it, each time closer, each time more intoxicating.

My gaze kept flickering to the diminishing cylinder, counting how many pulls could remain, and more exactly, if it would last long enough for me to try again the taste I was really craving. If it got better with practice then... I didn't even dare to picture it, and clearly, the tobacco wasn't calming for me. The anticipation was prickling my nerves, my heart thumping faster and faster, and it didn't look any better for him, as his jaw was sharper with each exhale.

I feared that one of those things would explode if it kept going, but thankfully, the last blow was coming, the flaming ember edging toward the orange part, where his fingers were, as he sucked in deeply.

It was the moment; I knew it. Although today, he was staying silent, the bad intention was written all over his eyes, and the warnings came with the flicks of his gaze to my lips. I closed my eyes and opened my lips, and...

TOOT

I jumped higher than ever, my eyes shooting open, while my mouth, well, my mouth was still hanging wide as today I seemed to be turning into a goldfish, and of course, I choked on the smoke that Blade was breathing out.

"My bus!" I exclaimed, the realization hitting my brain between two coughing fits and Blade's chuckle, and my large eyes glanced around to spot the yellow truck on the other end of the street.

When I focused back on Blade, it wasn't only the smoke that had dissipated.

"It's my bus. I have to go..." My mouth was dry, though I didn't think about my abandoned milkshake as my gaze still lingered to his rosy lips, which were already back in that same smirk.

But I didn't have time for this. I only had three minutes; it was usually the time the driver took to grab a coffee, and his next horn blast would leave 30 more seconds for the latecomers to get in before he drove away. It was a precise and well-oiled routine, as half of the students came to the Rose's diner and caught the bus here rather than directly at school.

Seeing the feet distance I was standing at, I would have to hurry.

"I can drive you." Blade nodded in the direction of the parking lot, and I found myself searching for the shiny metal of his engine.

"If you're still by motorcycle, I don't think it'll be a good idea..."

I'd had enough trouble for today, and the days before. Besides, I had to find a way to get rid of the tobacco smell before going home.

"But thanks." I offered him a bashful smile.

It was surely safer that way. Yet the only thing I moved was my gaze that traveled between the bus and those two blue eyes.

"Okay, then bye... Shooting star."

I was about to move my feet; at least, I was trying. But this stopped me with a warm rush to my cheeks, where a real smile appeared. He remembered.

It pulled me to move. I liked the sweet sound of this nickname, and once again, it felt like the best thing to end our unique encounter with. Thus, I lifted on my tiptoes and softly kissed his dimple like a ritual, even if we'd only seen each other two times, and we would probably never again.

It was that last thought that made the steps to take as hard as last time, and that, today, made me glance over my shoulder to see him still in the same place, his blue gaze piercing through me.

I replied to his smirk with a large grin, and I didn't turn my head until I had to climb the three steps of the bus, trying to memorize as many details as possible because I would never see them again and because I would need them more than ever to distract myself. I knew it the moment the overheated atmosphere of the bus froze me on spot, and if the doors hadn't been closed already, I would have run back there.

Instead, I moved forward, past the first rows, where most of the cheer team was, and I headed towards the back. Maybe the troublemakers would have tips to erase the tobacco smell, and it had a better view around.

I'd barely sat down, leaning my forehead against the warm window, that my gaze caught the tall silhouette. He was smoking another cigarette, and as the bus was driving away, I watched him walk in the opposite direction, towards a group of men with motorcycles. Was his own motorbike with them?

I'd pictured him more like a lone wolf, or Cheshire cat. Yet from the glimpse I'd caught, they were all wearing black leather jackets, and everyone knew about guys with leather jackets, greased-back hair, and motorbikes, while I realized I didn't know anything about Blade, and it only tickled my curiosity to know more.

I would never see him again; that was what I shook the questions and my head with. Yet that was what I'd told myself last time, and here where I was today.

Blade is back! Some of you wished it hard enough 😉🌠 But will it be their last encounter or not? 🤔 We'll see...

In the meantime, it was pretty unique once again! Did you expect this? So hot, wasn't it 🔥😈? Tell me what you think! But of course, remember that smoking is bad! A real kiss is much better than a shotgun kiss 😘

Also, tell me what you think about Diane stealing everything from Dorothy! And Spencer and his 'explanations', should Dorothy listen to him? 

Leave all your thoughts in the comments, and don't forget to vote ⭐ if you liked this chapter! 

I love to hear from you, and it's the best motivation! You know I need my little rays of sunshine and shooting star with September coming! 😘💕🌠🌞