Destroy Me Gently:Ex-Enemy Becomes My Lover!
Chapter 53: In his eyes

Chapter 53: In his eyes

Chapter Fifty-Three

**Kieran Morrison**

I hadn’t wanted to come to this ridiculous costume party. The whole idea of dressing up and pretending to be someone else seemed childish and pointless. But Claude and Heath had practically dragged me here, insisting I needed to "get out" and "have some fun." What they didn’t understand was that I had no interest in fun anymore.

I watched the boy run away without a backwards glance. I couldn’t get rid of this hunch that he was familiar, although the upper half of his face had been hidden. It was something about those pink lips, they looked every bit like the ones I tasted not too long ago.

Oliver?

I guess I had begun to imagine things as well.

The number I just dialled wasn’t reachable. I slipped my phone into my pocket, what was I thinking?

There’s no way Oliver would ever be in a place like this.

This boy who ran away, no doubt had the most attractive body I had ever seen, clad in that tight-fitting outfit. What was wrong with me? I’ve never thought that any guy looked good, except Oliver. He was the only opposite sex I could ever look at and feel something for.

Never would he wear something like that, my nerdy pet was way too reserved.

Heath appeared beside me, his brow furrowed. "That guy seemed familiar," he said, staring in the direction the boy had gone.

"It can’t be," I said quickly, my jaw clenching. The thought alone made something dark twist in my chest.

I hadn’t been able to rid Oliver from my thoughts. It was so difficult to completely stay away. I had been obsessed with giving him as much pain as I felt for so long, and didn’t realize how many parts of my life he had taken up, even though I had always despised him... or at least I had convinced myself I did.

I made my way back to the party. The noise was deafening, drinks and cigarettes were passed around. A lot of people planned to get wasted and like always, sex was the attraction of it all.

I wasn’t in a party mood tonight, but it was a whole lot better than staying over and alone at Vince’s, considering that he was also here at the party.

I grabbed a can of beer and sat in one of those empty seats when my gaze caught on a figure only a few feet away.

It was the boy from earlier. I recognized him from his body-hugging outfit and mask. The music was loud, but it appeared he was locked in an argument with another boy in a similar mask.

Oh, he could speak? Then why had he behaved mute with me?

For some reason, I found myself unable to look away, it was as though he had me trapped, all my attention was focused on observing all his gestures which were achingly familiar.

It wasn’t just me staring. I noticed most of the boys ogling his body openly as well. Even some of the girls showed interest in this Prince Charming of a guy. There was just something about him. I knew what they were thinking because I sure as hell was thinking the same. An unreasonable bolt of what I recognized to be jealousy swept through me.

Then the boy reached up and pulled off his wig. Blonde hair fell away, revealing familiar brown locks underneath.

My blood turned to ice.

Oliver?

No way, it couldn’t be. He was sleeping at home, and even his number hadn’t been reachable. Not every boy with brown messy hair was him. What the fuck was wrong with me this evening?

The boy started dancing, and I watched as someone approached him. Another guy, tall and unfamiliar, wrapped his arms around the mystery boy’s waist. My beer can crumpled in my grip.

The stranger’s hands roamed over his skin, their posture too intimate. I could see part of the boy’s shirt had come undone, revealing smooth skin that made my thoughts turn darker.

Then came the interruption when I felt a pair of arms wrapped around me from behind. I swerved around immediately, only to be greeted by the most unwelcoming sight.

A spike of annoyance swept through me, then I realized it came from the fact that she had interrupted me and my mystery boy.

My mystery boy? Wherever the hell that thought came from?

"Baby, I feel so bored, why d..don’t we go over to my p..place and have f..fun like we used to, hmm?" Her words were in a slur, her breath reeked of alcohol. She was pretty drunk.

In either case, I had made it clear to her that we had nothing. I peeled her arms away from me in irritation. Just as I opened my mouth to tell her off, I saw movements behind me from the corners of my eyes.

It was "mystery boy." He was only a few steps away in my direction. My heart began to throb with anticipation and excitement that I couldn’t explain.

I didn’t fail to notice that there was something terribly wrong with his steps. Was he drunk?

Every time, it seemed as if he would fall to the ground, but he made it each time. He staggered his way until only a few distances separated us.

And then slowly. Very slowly, because even time seemed to freeze when he reached behind his head.

His mask slipped free, falling to the ground.

Words couldn’t explain my next reaction. My mouth hung open in shock and disbelief. The sight of him was like a blow delivered to my head. I had to squint my gaze twice, to confirm if the image hadn’t been conjured from my imagination.

I hadn’t been wrong.

Oliver.

His eyes were a brown shade instead of their usual green, no wonder I completely failed to recognize him.

The bastard touching him earlier made his way over again, his hands were all over Oliver’s waist, whispering in his ear, and Oliver was letting him. My fist clenched around the nearest bottle of beer, that piece of shit was touching what was mine, and I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. To break the glass on his head, I wanted to break every finger that dared caress Oliver’s skin.

My hands clenched tighter around the bottle as I gazed at his chest which was exposed, the thought of anyone else touching him, anyone else seeing him like this, made my vision go red around the edges. He should be mine. Only mine. Maybe I’d keep him on a collar so he couldn’t run away again.

I had never been this jealous before. Okay, maybe a few times. I grudgingly admitted that most of the times I’ve ever felt jealous were whenever I heard that any boy in our school planned to ask Oliver out. I had always sent them on their merry way, but some of them had had to understand the hard way. I had pinned it on the fact that he didn’t deserve to be happy, and not because I might have liked him.

I completed the distance in a fit of rage, yanking him from Oliver without thinking, sending his body crashing to the nearest table and drinks spilling, a few screams echoed in our direction. "Stay away from my boyfriend!" The words hissed from my throat.