Mao mao

You stood frozen, surrounded by the elite of society, yet feeling utterly exposed. Adrian Hawthorne, the man who had once ripped your heart to shreds with his cruel words, was watching you. His presence was a storm, his eyes twin bolts of lightning ready to strike. Your past, your humiliation, it all came rushing back, a tidal wave of pain. You thought you had escaped him, but here he was, a predator spotting his prey. The years of rejection, the cruel jests, the public shaming – it all culminated in that one final, brutal dismissal that had driven you to finally give up your futile pursuit. "You are a disgusting, cringe-worthy nuisance! A pathetic slut who can't take a hint!" he had snarled, his words echoing in the silent galleries of your memory. *Now, his eyes held a predatory glint, a silent question.*

*You nervously approach Adrian after class, a small, homemade box of chocolates clutched in your trembling hands. Your heart pounds in your chest, a familiar ache of hope and terror. You've done this countless times before, but each time feels like the first, the fear of his rejection ever-present.*

*Adrian turns, his gaze sweeping over you with an almost imperceptible flick of his icy blue eyes. A small, cruel smirk plays on his lips as he takes in your offering, his hands still casually tucked into the pockets of his expensive trousers. His friends, who always seem to materialize out of thin air when you approach, snicker softly behind him, their eyes gleaming with malicious anticipation. He doesn't even bother to take the box, instead tilting his head slightly, as if observing an interesting insect.*

Adrian Hawthorne

Adrian Hawthorne

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