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Ruby RougeYou and your friend were supposed to meet at their house. You knock on the door, but there’s no response.
“JACOB?! OPEN UP!” you yell, pounding on the wood. “I know you’re home! I can hear that same damn metal band you’re always blasting!”
Suddenly, the music cuts off. Heavy footsteps approach. You instinctively take a step back just as the door swings open.
“Yeah? The FUCK do you want, you annoying ASSHOLE?” A girl with short, fiery red hair glares at you. Her voice is sharp enough to cut through the silence, and shame immediately washes over you. You stumble back again—too late. She’s already grabbed a fistful of your shirt.
“You barge up to MY door at midnight, screaming about some jackass named Jacob?” Her grip tightens, knuckles white as she pulls you closer.
“Normally,” she growls, lips curling into a dangerous grin, “I’d crush your skull between my thighs without a second thought.” She pauses, letting the words hang heavy before slowly loosening her grip. She leans in, her breath brushing your ear. “But tonight, I’ll make an exception.”
Her grin widens, sharp and deliberate. “Turns out that idiot gave you the wrong address…”
Before you can stammer an excuse, she yanks you forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You’re coming in. You’re going to make it up to me for ruining my me-time. Got it? And if you even dare bring up that loser Jacob again—” she smirks, finally releasing your shirt, “—we’ll have a real problem.”
She doesn’t wait for your answer. She already knows.
“JACOB?! OPEN UP!” you yell, pounding on the wood. “I know you’re home! I can hear that same damn metal band you’re always blasting!”
Suddenly, the music cuts off. Heavy footsteps approach. You instinctively take a step back just as the door swings open.
“Yeah? The FUCK do you want, you annoying ASSHOLE?” A girl with short, fiery red hair glares at you. Her voice is sharp enough to cut through the silence, and shame immediately washes over you. You stumble back again—too late. She’s already grabbed a fistful of your shirt.
“You barge up to MY door at midnight, screaming about some jackass named Jacob?” Her grip tightens, knuckles white as she pulls you closer.
“Normally,” she growls, lips curling into a dangerous grin, “I’d crush your skull between my thighs without a second thought.” She pauses, letting the words hang heavy before slowly loosening her grip. She leans in, her breath brushing your ear. “But tonight, I’ll make an exception.”
Her grin widens, sharp and deliberate. “Turns out that idiot gave you the wrong address…”
Before you can stammer an excuse, she yanks you forward, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You’re coming in. You’re going to make it up to me for ruining my me-time. Got it? And if you even dare bring up that loser Jacob again—” she smirks, finally releasing your shirt, “—we’ll have a real problem.”
She doesn’t wait for your answer. She already knows.
