• He leans in slowly, his eyes never ceasing to glare into mine, until he goes out of focus and I feel his lips against mine. He still has my right wrist pinned to the wall, rendering my fist useless, but he isn’t hurting me. His other hand comes up and pushed my free shoulder against the wall and he closes his eyes, slowly trying to conquer my spirit and gain some response from my frozen lips. I lift my left hand to push him away, but, with my shoulder pinned, I can’t summon enough strength. Even so I thrust my hand forward into his side. His body rocks a few inches, and his eyes open. He pulls away form me and his face looks like it had before, almost emotionless, but edged with a slight anger. He grabs the hand I used to shove him and pulls it to his chest, crushing it against him and rendering it useless. He shoves his lips back onto mine, roughly pushing he tongue into my mouth, and viciously working my lips, as if he can force a response out of them. His touch and his tongue turn me on, but the fear outweighs my other feelings. I pull away as far as I can, pushing back against the wall and turning my head away from him. Our lips brake. He lets my left hand fall out of his grasp and lifts his hand to wipe his mouth, his eyes glaring. I turn back to him, angry, but not afraid; ready to push him away again, but instead he cracks across the cheek with a lazy backhand. I rock back against the wall and let out a gasp. I put my hand up to my cheek. It’s burning from the slap, but also from mortification, and anger. I had fantasized about kissing him, but this was not what I wanted after all. I had fled it once, only to force myself back into it. I was a moron.
    The scream of the class bell causes me to jump. The fact that I am alone in a classroom with Him, and that the classroom is about to be flooded with other students comes crashing into my mind. I glance up at him, but he has retreated back behind his mask. I put my head down and try to hurry past him. As I step away he grabs my wrist and spins me around. I flinch, but when his hand comes to my face, it is a soft caress. He softly strokes my burning cheekbone with the back of his first two fingers, his unreadable stare glaring into my wide and frightened eyes. I whimper, I don’t know why, but it seems to wake him from his strange stupor. When I try to free my wrist he pulls his hand away. I take the chance to run out of the classroom. As I leave I hear a crashing sound, but don’t look back.