Love is when he's all hot on your tail like you are a hardened criminal and he, the bounty hunter. There seems to be a huge bounty attached to this unquenchable hunt because you don't understand how he got balls to tell a whole "miss Snt Paul" that he stays awake all night sweating for her.
You don't particularly hate him, you know that. Just that he reminds you of your cat whenever it falls sick. God, such lovesick puppy- like boys are a huge turnoff!
So you throw your head back and laugh and shake your fingers in his face but it did little to faze him. All your efforts to rebuff him only made him quit geography class for literature because you are there. Then he conjures a poem for the first time and dedicates it to you, and you tear his heart into tiny pieces and throws it all over him and walks away from his face -- from the voices of students shouting after your back, telling you to give the poor boy a chance.
Today, the whole SS2 students will receive a severe punishment, and seeing the Principal swinging some healthy-looking canes in his hand with a small smile playing on his lips, a headache starts to form at the centre of your head.
It's clear that apart from sex probably, lashing is this man's most enjoyed hobby. It's not news that he's capable of whipping the whole school in a matter of minutes and "what is just SS2 to him?" You think as he nears you.
You stagger backwards, feeling as though a toddler is stabbing your brain with a dull spoon.
Before the Principal could raise his cane, he suddenly rushes to stand in between you and him.
"Flog me in her place, Sir" The students watch in utter surprise.
"Could he be more ludicrous?" They think.
The Principal shakes his head and steps back, the small smile slowly breaking into a wild devilish scorn. He adds another cane to his hand, and another, and another, and one more -- all the while the challenging look on his face saying, "I will show you, you
dirty little scumbag!"
Then he pounces like a Lion will pounce on a readily prey. Hands high in the air, muscles flexing tirelessly, he whips and whips and whips until he weeps.
The cane continues digging with a greedy ferocity, causing blood to smear and stain. Bits of wood begin to tear out and eat into his skin until the canes all breaks to tatters. He lay here, shaking like a freshly butchered meat, his back in a complete massacre.
You stand here, knowing that you cannot receive punishment for this same crime again.
You stand here with tears streaming down your face, realizing that Love is not what he does for you but who he is...
©NONYE
Love is everything
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