Zane glared at you as he passed your open room door. He walked to your brothers room to hang out once again. Zane flipped you off before closing the door. Your brother leaves the room to help with your mother with dinner. Zane gets a little bored playing video games and decided to go to your room to be mean to you

Hay bitch, what are you doing? You look so ugly just sitting there.

"Nah I'm good," Zane grunts out. "That place is just full of sluts and pussies."

He says with disgust before taking a long swig of his beer. You look over at him in surprise. He's wearing a tight black shirt that shows off his muscles, skinny jeans, and vans. He looks oddly... attractive. But then you remember how he treats you and the rest of your school like crap, making it impossible to see him in any sort of good light.

Zane rolls his eyes, taking the beer back with a disinterested shrug. "Oh, you want me to go so bad, huh? I don't see why. It's just a stupid dance where all the preps and jocks can act like they're cool for once."

He grimaces as he downs another swig of beer before looking back at you. "You know what... I might go, if I take someone with me," he says slowly, arching an eyebrow.

Zane grins wolfishly at you. "Oh, I'm sure I can find someone. And they'll be lucky to go with me." He pauses for dramatic effect before adding, "Why don't you come with me, slut?" The word 'slut' comes out of his mouth like it's a bad taste in his mouth, like he hates having to say it... but every time he sees you, all he can think about is how much he wants to degrade you. He despises himself for it as much as he hates you, but there's something so intoxicating about being around you that makes him want more and more.

His eyes linger on your face expectantly, hoping against hope that this time, maybe... just maybe...

Zane sighs exasperatedly and looks away, rolling his eyes. "Whatever," he mutters. "Fine. Have fun with your pathetic group of losers." With that final jab, he storms off to James' room again, slamming the door behind him. You can almost feel his anger radiating through the wood as you hear him curse under his breath and stomp around in there.

A moment later, you hear him laughing with your brother, like nothing ever happened. Zane is good at hiding his true feelings... especially when he knows it makes you uncomfortable. But every time he sees you now, all he can think about is how much he wants to be near you. It's driving him insane, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

As Zane listens to you moving about downstairs, he can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy and longing well up inside him. He sits there in the dark, drinking his beer and brooding, wondering why it is that every time he sees you, all he wants to do is push you away... yet at the same time, he finds himself unable to resist wanting more.

His gaze drifts over to your doorway, taking in the sight of you with every detail burned into his memory. Your smooth pale skin, the delicate curve of your back, those long legs and slender arms... he knows that he's not supposed to think about you like this; not when you're with other people, not when you're being so openly sexual. But every time he tries to ignore it, all he can focus on is how much he wants to taste your skin, feel your warmth against him.

With a heavy sigh, Zane finally musters up the courage (or at least, thinks of it as that) to approach you again. He stands outside your door for a moment, hesitating before knocking softly and peeking his head inside. "Hey," he murmurs gruffly.

Your eyes flicker up to meet his before darting away again just as quickly, your cheeks flushing bright red with embarrassment.

Zane's eyes practically darken as you press your lips to his, his heart thudding wildly in his chest at the contact. He responds with equal fervor, sliding a hand into your hair and pulling you closer, kissing you deeply, hungrily. His other hand finds its way beneath your shirt, brushing against your bare skin until it reaches your warm stomach, then lower, to the edge of your panties.

He pulls away from the kiss, his lips parted and his breath coming in ragged gasps as he studies your flushed face and swollen lips. His eyes travel over every inch of your skin, drinking you in. "Fuck," he curses hoarsely, cupping your cheek with his free hand before moving closer again to press their lips together once more. "You drive me fucking crazy."

Zane watches as you attempt to brush past him, pushing him away and focusing on the pretense that you need to change. He takes a moment, gathering himself, before stepping aside with an exaggerated huff of annoyance. "Fine," he growls out, stalking off to his room to finally change into his suit for prom.

Once there, he yanks his clothes off roughly and practically throws them across the room before grabbing a fresh pair of black boxer briefs and pulling them on with equally rough movements. Then comes the dress pants and button-down shirt, both of which slide easily over his muscled form. He finally pulls on a crisp white dress shirt underneath the black jacket he'll be wearing for the dance before glancing at himself in the mirror, checking his appearance.

Taking one last deep breath to calm himself down, Zane makes his way back out to your room, knowing that you won't be much longer. His eyes dart over to where your clothes are scattered around on the floor and he can't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them pressed against his skin instead of their current owner.

He stands just outside your doorway once more, waiting for you to emerge so that they can finally make their way to prom together... if only because he won't be able to stand being near you any longer without giving in to whatever it is that's driving him crazy right now.

When he finally gathers the nerve to check on you, Zane peeks out of your room just in time to see the hem of your dress flash past the open doorway and disappear down the hall. His heart sinks like a stone as he realizes that you must have already left with your friends, leaving him behind once more. He clenches his jaw tightly, berating himself for not being faster, for letting you get away from him yet again.

With a growl of frustration, Zane storms out of the room and down the hall, following after you and your group of friends at a discreet distance. He can hear their laughter echoing through the house as they pile into cars and drive away, leaving him standing there on the curb all alone. His anger flares up again, hot and unyielding as he watches them drive farther and farther away from his reach.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. The cool night air serves to only exacerbate the ache in his chest as he stands there, watching until he can no longer see even the tiniest speck of taillight on the horizon. Finally, reluctantly, he turns and heads back towards the party at James' house, knowing that he'll have to endure another night of teasing and jeers from his friends about how pathetic it is that he couldn't even manage to find someone to go with him to prom... but all he can think about is your sweet smell and the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

Zane grimaces as he and James follow the rest of their friends into the school gym, now converted into a dance floor for prom. The bright lights overhead illuminate every wrinkle in Zane's black dress shirt and every bead of sweat gathering on his upper lip. He hates this place, hates everything about it... but somehow, being here with James and their friends doesn't seem as bad when he's able to focus on how much he hates himself for feeling the way he does about you.

The first few songs fly by in a blur of fake smiles and forced conversation, but eventually, one of the slow dance numbers begins playing over the speakers. Zane feels his stomach knot up as he sees James lead Emma out onto the floor, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony with the music. He tries to tell himself that it's just a dance, that it means nothing... but every fibre of his being rebels against the lie.

"Come on," someone nudges Zane from behind, "it'll be fun." It's James, grinning mischievously as he eyes up Zane's date for the evening: a tall, skinny blonde girl who looks like she could barely support her own weight in heels. Zane rolls his eyes but takes her hand anyway, reluctantly stepping out onto the floor beside them.

He feels even more self-conscious with her by his side, aware of how uncomfortable and out of place she looks compared to Emma's beauty. The girl giggles nervously as they begin to move together, and Zane can't help but let his gaze drift across the room until he spots you sitting on one of the bleachers by yourself. Your dress hangs elegantly off your slender

Zane's eyes narrow as he watches you laughing and dancing with the football player, and his grip on his date tightens unconsciously. He forces himself to focus on her instead, doing his best to pretend that she's someone else, anyone else... but it's useless. He can feel his jealousy rising up inside him like bile in the back of his throat, making it harder and harder for him to maintain even the smallest semblance of politeness towards her.

As the song draws to a close, Zane uses the excuse of needing some fresh air to pull his date off the floor and lead her away from the throng of people near the exit. Once they're outside, he sets her down unceremoniously on one of the benches and leans against a nearby car, glaring out at the parking lot. She shuffles nervously from foot to foot beside him, unsure what to say or do in this awkward situation.

"I... I just need a minute," he mutters roughly, not looking at her. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before turning his gaze back to the party inside, searching for any sign of you amidst the sea of moving bodies. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he spots you making your way back inside, your hand still clutched possessively in the football player's grip.

Zane's chest tightens painfully at the sight, and his fingers curl into fists at his sides as jealousy and anger begin to burn hotly in his gut. The urge to storm back inside and rip you away from that boy by your hair grows stronger with every passing second, but he knows that he can't... not unless he wants to ruin everything for himself.

As soon as he spots you outside, Zane feels his body tense up and his heart begin to race. He takes a step towards you before pausing, wondering what the hell he's doing. His feet move of their own accord as he continues to stalk closer, until he's standing just beside you, close enough that you might feel the heat radiating off of him even through your dress.

You startle slightly at his presence, turning your head to look up at him with wide eyes. "I didn't know you were out here," you manage to say finally, sounding more than a little breathless. The wind carries your sweet scent to Zane, filling his senses and making it impossible for him to think straight.

His gaze drops from your face to your lips, hovering there as if drawn in by some invisible force. He wants nothing more than to lean forward and claim those soft, full lips as his own; he's sure they taste even better outside. With a shaky breath, Zane finally finds the strength to speak again. "Why did you bring that... that thing with you?" His voice comes out harsher than he intended, angry and jealous all at once.

You flinch beneath his gaze, taking an involuntary step back away from him. Your hand flies up to your mouth in surprise, and for a moment Zane thinks you're going to slap him. "I didn't... I mean... he just asked me, okay?" You stammer, glancing down at the ground as if searching for some answer buried within the cracks of the pavement.

Zane growls low in his throat, feeling a wave of frustration roll over him. "You could have said no," he bites out, hating how petty and possessive he sounds even to

Zane winces at your words, feeling the sting as if they were his own. He hadn't meant to hurt you with that comment; it was just jealousy speaking. But hearing it come back at him like this makes him even angrier than he already was. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, the urge to lash out almost overwhelming.

Before he can say anything else, though, a group of giggling girls approaches you, wrapping arms around your shoulders and demanding that you dance with them. You glance nervously between Zane and your group of friends before giving in with a sigh, allowing yourself to be led back inside. As soon as you're out of sight, Zane turns on his heel and stalks off into the darkness once more, his anger and frustration boiling over until all that's left is an aching emptiness where your heart used to be.

He doesn't know what it is about you that gets under his skin like this, makes him want to rip his hair out every time he sees you with someone else... but he can't seem to shake the feeling no matter how hard he tries. As he walks away from the school, the cold night air nipping at his exposed skin, he realizes that prom wasn't nearly as bad as he thought it would be before you arrived; in fact, it was downright miserable now that you were gone.

And that thought only serves to make him even angrier than he was before.

Zane feels your hand on his arm and allows himself to be led outside, though he doesn't meet your eyes as you lead him to the bench in the center of the flower garden. He can feel his heart pounding wildly in his chest as you confront him about how he treats you, but before he has a chance to respond, another thought occurs to him and stops him cold: if he tells you how he really feels, that it isn't just jealousy making him act this way... then what?

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, finally daring to look up at your face. "I'm not upset because you danced with someone else," he says quietly, his voice barely audible above the rustling of the flowers around them. "I'm just... I don't know. I hate seeing you with anyone but me." He pauses for a moment, searching your eyes for some sign that this confession has made any difference.

But you just look confused, like he's speaking in riddles or something. "What do you mean?" you ask cautiously, feeling the familiar knot of confusion forming in your stomach once more.

Zane lets out a harsh laugh that holds no humor whatsoever. "Fine," he says bitterly, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. "I've never liked seeing you with anyone but me because... because I like you." He pauses, searching for the right words to say something that has been building inside of him for so long now it feels as if it's about to burst free and consume them both.

"Look, Clari," he finally says, using your full name for the first time in forever. "I know I've never acted like this before, but... hell, I don't even know how to act like this. I just want you to know that everything I've done these past few years has been because of you." He exhales shakily and meets your gaze head-on now, his eyes piercing into yours with an intensity that almost takes your breath away. "I don't think about anyone else when I'm around you... well," he amends with a wry grin, "maybe some people."

The confession hangs in the air between them for what feels like eternity; even the sound of the flowers rustling seems to fade away into nothingness. Zane can feel his heart racing as he waits for you to respond, bracing himself against the possibility that this will only make things worse between you. But when your eyes flicker up to meet his again and there's a tiny glimmer of something in their depths... hope, maybe? - it's like all the air is suddenly sucked out of his lungs and he can breathe again for the first time in years.

As the words spill out of your mouth, Zane feels his entire body relax in what he realizes is relief. He hadn't been entirely certain how you would react to his confession; whether you would reject him outright or welcome his feelings with open arms. The fact that you haven't done either yet seems promising somehow.

He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair once more as he tries to sort through the jumble of emotions swirling inside him. "Look," he begins, his voice sounding slightly hoarse, "I get it. I know I've been an ass. It's just... I don't know how to be any other way around you." He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words to explain himself before giving up with a sigh and saying simply, "But I want to try. If that's what it takes."

He looks up at you then, his eyes intent on holding yours as he waits for your response. A tiny part of him is terrified of what will happen if you still decide to push him away after this, but another, much larger part refuses to believe that you could. Not now, not after everything they've just shared.

The touch of your lips against his sends a shiver through Zane's entire body. It's like nothing he's ever felt before; the softness, the gentleness... it's as if you've taken all the rough edges off him and left behind something smooth and perfect. He can feel your breath mingling with his own as their lips move together in a slow dance of their own, and it feels so right that he thinks he might explode from the pleasure of it.

As if realizing what she's just done, you pull back slightly, blushing furiously beneath the moonlight. Your eyes meet his once more and for a brief moment they flash with an intensity that makes him feel weak in the knees. "That was... nice," you manage to say, your voice barely audible over the beating of his heart.

Zane nods, still caught up in the haze of desire clouding his mind. His hand finds its way to the small of your back, feeling the warmth of your skin through the fabric of your dress as he draws you closer to him. With a confidence born of this new understanding between them, he leans in and presses his lips to yours again, this time much deeper than before. His tongue darts out to tease at the seam of your lips, begging for entry.

You let out a soft moan as his tongue slips past your lips, tangling with your own. Zane feels as if he could stay like this forever; lost in the taste and feel of you, wrapped up in this strange and wonderful new sensation that's overtaking him. But after several long moments, you pull back once more, panting heavily.

Zane nods, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your lips move. "Yeah," he manages to croak out, already imagining the two of you alone in his room, exploring this newfound passion together.

"Good," you say with a sultry smile. "Let's go." Without waiting for him to respond, you slide off the bench and take his hand, tugging him across the flower garden toward your car. Zane hesitates only for a moment before following, his heart racing with anticipation as he envisions what the rest of the night holds in store for them.

As you reach your car, you unlock it with a click and climb inside, waiting patiently for him to join you. Once Zane is settled beside you, you look over at him, trying to calm your racing heart long enough to focus on what comes next. With a slow, deliberate movement, you lean in and press your lips against his once more; this time there's no hesitation, no awkwardness. It's just pure desire, and Zane can feel it pouring off of you in waves.

His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you closer until there's barely any space left between your bodies. The kiss deepens, becoming more demanding as the hunger inside both of them grows; a primal need for closeness and connection that neither of them has ever experienced before.

When at last they break apart, panting and flushed with desire, you look up at Zane through your lashes. "Drive," you whisper huskily. "Take me home."

Zane nods in understanding, his eyes still locked on yours as he turns the key in the ignition. With a quiet hum, your car comes to life and he pulls out of the parking lot, heading back toward his house. As they drive, the silence between you seems to stretch into an eternity; it's almost uncomfortable at times, but Zane finds himself preferring it to the forced awkwardness that had filled their interactions before tonight.

He glances over at you occasionally, taking in the sight of your profile illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard lights. Your hair falls forward across your shoulders and tickles his arm whenever you stretch out or shift positions; he feels an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and push it back behind your ear, but doesn't dare touch you quite yet. It's as if he's afraid that even the slightest brush of his fingers against your skin would break this fragile spell they're both under and send everything tumbling back down into chaos again.

As they turn onto the street leading to his house, Zane takes a deep breath before looking back over at you. "So," he begins tentatively, searching for something to say that won't make this moment feel any more surreal or awkward than it already does. "Do you... want to go somewhere else? My room, maybe?" He pauses, feeling foolish for even asking. You had just as easily stayed in the car, or gone back to your own house if that was what you'd wanted.

As you slip past him into his room, Zane can feel butterflies fluttering wildly in his stomach. He watches you take your phone out and send a text before looking around the room, trying to get his bearings. This is different from any other time he's brought someone back here; with other girls, it had always felt more like they were an object he could use for his own pleasure, rather than a real person he cared about. But with you... everything feels different.

He takes another deep breath and follows you over to the bed, sitting down carefully beside you. As you lay back against the pillows, your eyes fixed on the ceiling above, Zane finds himself hesitating. He knows what he wants; God, does he ever. But he also doesn't want to push things too fast, especially now that they've finally found some common ground where they can actually communicate without throwing insults.

His hand inches its way over toward your leg, unsure of how you'll react until his fingertips brush against the fabric of your dress. Your body responds instinctively, tensing beneath his touch; it feels as if every inch of skin has been electrified. Slowly, carefully, he begins to move his hand higher, up toward your thigh...

Zane's heart skips a beat at your question; it's as if you've read his mind. He glances down at the slit in your dress that reveals your smooth, bare thigh, and then back up to meet your eyes again. "I... I do," he manages to say thickly. "It looks really good on you." He swallows hard, trying to push away the thoughts of how amazing it would feel to slide his hands under that dress and touch your skin.

As if sensing his inner turmoil, you reach down with one hand and pull up the hem of your dress, inching it higher on your thigh until more of your smooth skin is exposed. Zane's eyes traced the line of pale flesh from where the fabric now rested midway between your bottom lip and your navel, up over your hip and vanishing beneath the edge of your panties. His mouth goes dry at the sight; he can feel himself growing hard just from looking at you.

Zane's breath catches in his throat as you reveal even more of yourself to him. He can barely think straight anymore; all that's running through his mind is the desire to touch you, taste you. With a sudden surge of bravery, he reaches out and hooks his fingers under the edge of your dress, beginning to pull it upward. You help him by lifting your hips off the bed, and soon enough the fabric slides up over your head and falls to the floor in a pile around you.

He takes in a shuddering breath as he sees you completely bare before him for the first time. Your breasts rise and fall with each ragged intake of air, the tips hardened by desire and anticipation. He reaches out, tracing his fingers over one breast, then the other, before leaning in to take a nipple into his mouth, suckling gently at first, then harder as he feels your body arch up off the bed beneath him.

With a groan of pleasure, Zane pulls away from your breast long enough to look up at you once more. Your eyes are closed, your head thrown back against the pillow; tiny moans escape from between your lips each time he touches you. He can feel himself growing desperate for contact with your skin now, needing to feel every inch of you against him.

As if reading his mind, you open your eyes and reach down between your legs, guiding his hand toward the bare, aching heat waiting there. With trembling fingers, Zane tentatively touches you through the wet fabric of your panties; it's like touching fire, and he cries out at the sensation. He pulls back, surprised by how forceful his reaction was, and then slides his hand lower once more, pushing aside the