He was simply known as King. It was his last name, but I’d never known him by any other. King interested me in the same way that a caged lion interests a child; power and beauty collided within him to make something seemingly otherworldly.
King had a rough face, that managed to be both masculine and pretty. His nose had been broken at some point in the past and it was slightly crooked now. His eyes were emerald, stunningly so, and glistened when he looked anyone in the eyes. His chin was covered in 2 or 3 day old stubble, never more and never less. He was covered in scars; they ran across his hands and up his arms and further. I could see one protruding from his collar; the skin there slightly discoloured, it was lighter than his permanently tanned skin and shone slightly, but I’m sure that was just a trick of the light. His forearms and what I could see of his chest was covered in thick, dark hair. He was tall, easily clearing 6’6, and built like a bull to match. Nothing was small about him, physically or intellectually. He was a certified genius to boot.
We were introduced by a mutual friend, who by all rights I shouldn’t have known. He knew I wanted to meet someone I could talk to, not just one of his brain dead, moronic friends. He, the friend, asked me to come to one of his parties (which were usually full of beautiful girls, hot boys and a lot of drugs) so I agreed.
I showed up to his house in a slinky black dress that ended halfway up my thighs and multicoloured knee high socks with beautiful black boots, lined with fur. I didn’t look my age, which was a lot younger than most of the girls there, and was hit on several times before finding my man. The music was loud and all conversation had to be bellowed.
“Hey, how are you doing?” He shouted into my ear, getting me away from a drunk eighteen year old skater boy.
“This party’s shit man… Why am I even here?” I complained, pulling at the lace of my dress.
“Because I want you to meet someone.” He shouted back, grabbing my hand and pulling me through the people into a back room.
It was his parents bedroom, and with the door shut conversation suddenly became possible.
With his back to us was a man dressed stylishly in dark jeans and a pale green shirt. He was playing with the collar, flicking it up and down.
“King,” Our friend smiled. The bear of a man turned around and noticed me standing next to the lad, “meet the girl I was talking about.”
“This is her?” King smiled, a disbelieving look on his face, “No way. She’s too young.”
“And?” I snapped. I knew was younger than most people there, but I still hated it when it was pointed out, “What’s your problem, mister?”
“Mister?” He smiled a cocky half-smile at me and turned to our friend. “Leave her with me.”
“Sure. Just don’t break her, King. I like this one.”
“I bet you do.” King laughed as our friend left. King looked at me from the other side of the double bed, “So, you know why you’re here, I assume?”
“Not even slightly.” I shook my head, walking forwards and perching on the bed. I was determined that this hulk wouldn’t intimidate me. “But I can guess.”
“What do you think?” He asked, not bothering to make it polite.
I turned around and looked him up and down. He was definitely my type, but it being a good idea or not was something else entirely. “Depends.”
“On what?” He growled, starting to get frustrated with me.
“On if we do it here, or somewhere more private.” I said with a slight grin. I was enjoying this far too much. I lay back on the bed, sliding my dress up my legs as I did. I looked up at him from the bed and blinked twice.
King swallowed and blinked back. We held each other’s gaze for a few minutes, the muffled music from the party as a background. He sighed and turned towards the door. “Get up. We’re going to my place.”
“Okay.” I smiled and jumped up, walking out of the door and making sure that I got people’s attention as I was leaving.