Misunderstood

DOMINIC’S POV

I got to my apartment with her perched on my shoulder, her playful fingers rubbing soothing circles on my back as she giggled. I carefully put her to rest on my bed and went to get a glass of water for her.

As I placed the water on my bedside table, adjusting it closer for her easy reach, I studied her expression, trying to understand what was going on in her mind. I couldn't ignore the sweet, alluring taste of peaches and vanilla she was shrouded in.

What if she freaked when she woke up? What if she took me for some kind of serial killer? All these wild thoughts went through my mind as I glanced at her face.

“What are you looking at?” she asked, snapping me out of my trance.

“Just trying to figure out how a grown adult could forget her address.” I answered firmly.

“Jeez can’t I get a break? Everyone just wants to scold me these days” she muttered.

My lips betrayed my face as I let out a small smile on my lips.

“What’s your name?”I asked.

“Abby.” She murmured.

“Why did you come to the bar?” she asked softly.

A wave of anger washed through me as memories of my alpha resurfaced. I felt my eyes shift in color as my anger surged, but I forced myself to calm down.

I felt a warm and soft touch on my shoulder which sent a shiver down my back as I looked at Abigail.

“Nothing.” I gritted.

“You seem angry. Girlfriend troubles?”

"What?” I burst out laughing at her remark.

No, don't think I have time for that, not right now atleast. My life's too complicated."

I paused, my words dying away awkwardly. "I'm not even sure I know what a girl really wants." My eyes kept drifting to her pink, puckered lips, almost as if they were calling to me.

“What do you want in a man?” I asked, using the opportunity to glare into her light blue eyes that seemed to pierce through me.”

She paused, taking a moment to absorb my words before continuing. "I want someone kind."

I nodded in anticipation as she spoke, hanging on to every word.

“I want someone who craves me, who’s obsessed, who supports me at every given opportunity.”

“ I want some one out of this world.”

“I want someone who makes me feel good.”

I smirked at her last statement. “I’m sure every girl wants that,” I replied, my gaze again locking onto hers.

What is wrong with me? Why can't I look at her without fantasizing about how good her lips would taste?

The room fell silent as we locked eyes.

“Do… do you want to kiss me?” She asked, her voice soft and feminine. She moved closer, looking vulnerable, and in that moment, I knew I wasn’t going to take advantage of her.

My gaze drifted down to her lips.

“I would like to kiss you.” I admitted, my words betraying my thoughts.

A twinge of guilt rushed through me. Was I taking advantage of this girl in her drunk state? Of course no, I didn’t touch her in appropriately or lure her here. I’m just a stranger helping out a stranger. Still I couldn’t shake how her lips seemed to be calling me.

Fuck it

I kissed her.

I smashed my lips on hers, and the kiss became charged with anticipation. Our tongues intertwined, savoring the taste of each other, and I gently sucked her tongue leaving her to let out a moan during the kiss as I felt her hot breath mingling with mine.

Is it weird that it gave me butterflies?

In that moment I knew I wanted more, I knew if I didn’t stop, I’d end up tearing her clothes off. She felt like a magnet, drawing me deeper and deeper.

Her hands roamed to my shirt, starting to unbutton it, but I managed to pull away, leaving us both breathless and panting profusely.

“It’s late.”

“Yeah.” She softly replied.

“I’ll drop you off tomorrow, I can leave the room if you want.”

“The bed is big enough, I'm fine with you here.”

“Okay,” I replied, taking in what had just happened. I climbed onto the bed, lay on my back, and stared at the ceiling, my hands resting behind my head. Then sleep consumed me.

ABIGAIL’S POV

The sound of the horn jolted me awake, shattering my deep slumber. I woke up to a fresh ray of sunlight falling on my face. As I stretched and yawned, it hit me-this was definitely not my place. I sat up, taking in the surroundings that were unfamiliar.

Oh my god.

Did I? I looked at the handsome man with dark blond hair, his perfectly toned muscle and abs visible as he lay peacefully on the side of the bed.

Shirtless.

I remember a slight hint of him, but had no idea how I ended up sleeping in his house. I immediately checked to see if I was still wearing my panties, realizing I was dressed in a large t-shirt. Carefully, I began changing back into my own clothes

“You okay?”

I jerked out at the sound of his voice.

The man chuckled as he got out of bed.

“Who.. are you?” I asked trying to piece things together.

“You really don’t remember anything? He asked.

I answered almost immediately “I don’t… well I was in the bar, drinking… I bumped into you.”

“Yeahhh.” He said sounding like a teacher nudging a student toward the right answer.

He slipped on shirt in a way that made him sexy. I couldn’t help but gaze at his pecs they were irresistibly attractive.

“You… you need to stop drinking.” he said pointing his fingers to me like a warning.

“I usually don’t drink this much.. I just…”

“Your ex..”

“What?” I said my voice laced with a hint of curiosity and anger.

“You told me that too.”

“We met at Madison’s,” he said, as he took a step closer.

“Don’t come near me!” I snapped, my voice raised with anger.

“What?” He said, his expression puzzled.

“Just… stay where you are.”

I moved back slowly, reaching to pick up my bag.

“This is the thank you I get? I saved your ass” he replied.

“Well I didn’t need your help, I was fine just where I was.”

“Hey, calm down.” He interrupted.

“I know how you men are, corny you just needed an excuse to get between my legs.”

He raised an eyebrow. "Wow, that's quite an assumption. I helped you get home because you were drunk, not for any other reason."

I crossed my arms, my glare still furious and fixed on him. "Well, maybe I don't trust you.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I helped you cause you seemed to be stranded, if you wanna bring up this false narrative about being between your legs, then leave here.”

“As you can see, I was getting to it before you interrupted” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Fine, move.”

As I stormed out the apartment, I couldn’t help but think of that silly that jerk was. I brushed it off, didn’t want any negative energy to wash through me, I had a class in a few hours so all I needed was to freshen up, have breakfast and go for the lecture. Last night was so crazy and I will make sure it never repeats itself, I can’t believe I ended up staying at that jerk’s place.

I brushed my hand through my face, letting out a sigh. I hated him but those eyes were something I couldn’t forget.

I drove to my school feeling a bit good, I had taken my breakfast and freshened up for class. I parked at my usual spot- under a mango tree which was near to the ice cream shop. I got out of the car and headed to my class.

The classroom was rowdy as always. As I got in, I settled down on my seat, waiting for the lecturer to arrive. Meanwhile everyone else was milling around, greeting friends and chatting which all added to the noise.

As Professor Brown walked in, the class instantly grew quieter, other students noticing his arrival and returning to their various seats.

He opened is big literature book, it looked like in if those ancient books, just by glancing at it, you could tell it had valuable knowledge. The title read “American Classics.”

“Alright class, we will be diving into one of the most iconic poems in American literature. He is also a favorite poet of mine- Edgar Allan Poe.”

“The title of this poem is ‘The Raven’, anyone familiar with it?”

I heard a mix of distant murmurs from the class- some saying ‘no’ , others ‘yes’.

“You wanna know why I find Edgar Allan’s poems fascinating? His ability to evoke strong emotions in readers. The depth of Poe’s poems such as “The Raven” and “Annabel Lee” resonates with us readers on a profound level.”

“Now lets get back to “The Raven”.

This poem," he said, tapping the page lightly, "is a perfect blend of Gothic atmosphere, melancholic tone, and poetic mastery.

He began reading from the second stanza, his voice calm and deliberate.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor…

“These aren’t just random descriptions. What mood does this create? What might the dying ember represent?"

My eyes were suddenly distracted by a green-eyed beautiful being, I tilted my head for a better view as he stumbled into classroom, gripping his books as if he had just remembered he had a class. His hair was messy, but he still managed to look indisputably attractive.

It hit me when I realized, that was the guy from Madison’s.

“He’s in Hamilton?” I furrowed my brows together trying to process everything I just seen. He slipped into a chair at the end of the row on my right, making sure Professor Brown wouldn’t notice him.

As I took a glimpse of him and looked away, a wave of guilt washed over me as I’d remembered how I reacted to him earlier.

I knew I should probably apologize, I decided that I was going to do that after my class and any other necessary things I had to do today. I couldn’t keep my gaze off him so I made sure not to look in his direction again, not wanting him to notice me staring.

Professor Brown glanced at the time, signaling that it was time to wrap up.

“The dying ember is a reflection of the narrator’s internal state, just as much as the cold, bleak December is. Poe wants us to feel that sense of sorrow and decay in every line” He continued.

He closed his textbook softly and stepped forward to get closer to us. “ For your assignment, I want you all to dive deeper. You’ll be working in groups of three.”

Murmurings from the class members began to rise as he cut through.

“Trust me, this will be more interesting than you think. Here's what I want each group will pick a different stanza from The Raven. Your job is to do a close reading of that stanza. Study it and beak it down. Analyze the language, tone, and symbolism just like we did today."

He paused briefly, waiting for the class to settle, as the chatter gradually died.

“I also want you to interpret how this stanza contributes to the overall theme of the poem- whether it’s about loss, despair or madness. You’ll present your findings in two weeks.”

“ I expect you to explain why Poe chose the words he did, and how they make us feel the way we do when we read it.”

“ I expect you all to treat this strongly, as this will account for 30 percent of your overall grade. Remember to review the material for our next class.”

As I tried to retrace my steps to his apartment, pieces of my memory returned, I remembered myself having a conversation with him.. The more I remembered, the more guilt I felt.

When I arrived at his apartment, I heard him on the phone, his voice laced with laughter, each chuckle ringing out like a taunt. My curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned closer, straining to catch his words.

“She actually thought I’d call her back,” he chuckled. “What kind of person forgets her own address? That’s the dumbest thing ever.”

As I heard him, the realization hit me like a slap in the face. My fists instinctively knotted, the nails digging deep into my palms, as a wave of cold realization came crashing over me.

A freezing sensation gripped my stomach, and I struggled to process what I’d just overheard.