I Hate You by Chante

Bad Habit

I watch you.

I watch you a lot.

You are such a dick-head. I can still hear everyone kissing your ass.

The professors – “Sesshomaru, seems you are right. I did have an error!”

The students – “Woo! Sesshomaru for President!!”

Your fan-club – “We love you, Sesshomaru!”

It makes me sick. But you irritate me even more than they do. Want to know why? Because you have the nerve to hate it too.

I watched the disdain on your face when a girl you’ve never bothered to acknowledge throws herself at your feet. I hear you sigh with annoyance as the professors praise you. And, we both know for a fact that at least half of your “friends,” are only riding your coat-tails, trying to collect the scraps you toss aside.

I also know that you watch me when we’re in gym. I know that you know that I can’t help but twitch under your intent gaze. I couldn’t ignore that intense stare if I tried.

I also know with absolute certainty that you judge me when I finally finish my daily mile, flopping onto the grass just outside of the track. I hate the fact that I am either last or winded - while you are of the first to finish. Jerk.

I also know your favorite thing to do is sit and think. Once, I caught you behind the school – not with Kagura or anything. You were laying in the grass, just to the side of the steps I’d have to walk on.

Or not – but I’d look like a coward if I avoided the steps.

Hell, if I am being honest with myself, that was the primary reason I still took the shortcut behind the school to get to the train. That, and despite myself, I wanted to catch you with her again.

I wanted to be able to see you like that. It amazed me; even though you were in the throes of pleasure, not a single muscle twitched if you didn’t want it to. There were no sounds that you made. Even as she swallowed all that you gave her, you only spared a smirk in my direction. You were watching me, and I thought I was watching you.

I ducked my head as I passed you, wanting to avoid the impending conversation. You always try these games when I’m alone.

Fuck you.

My heart thundered in my ears as you cleared your throat and I stop - damning you to the lowest layer of hell. I turned my head to the side, not quite able to meet your eyes. It doesn’t matter, I can feel your smirk as you look at me. Your presence is too loud, even the barest nuance burns into my skin. My eyes didn’t need to see you do it to be marked.

My insecurities rear their ugly heads – is my chest too small? Does my hair look alright? Am I too fat? Too thin? My fingers twitch at my side as I stamp down the urge to fuss with my hair or my jacket or to move my books from my one arm to in front of my stomach – or to cover my chest? Which one?

You smirk at me again, and I feel my cheeks flame with humiliation.

“Look at me, girl” I wanted to ignore you, but instead I slowly pulled my eyes up from the soles of your name-brand shoes to look into your eyes. Do you know that when you look at someone, you make them feel like an insect? Like you could squish them with the littlest of effort, but you don’t. It must be because you enjoy torturing the bugs more. You’re sadistic like that.

After what felt like hours but was likely less than a minute of full on eye contact, I clear my throat and drop my gaze. This is uncomfortable. I hoped for the both of us.

“What is it that you wanted, Sesshomaru?” I say, forcing anger and sarcasm into my voice – otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to live with how that sentence sounded.

A full minute later your smirk grows. On anyone else I would have called it a smile.

“Did you forget?” I hate how you talk. Annoying jerk.

“I don’t have time for your games, Sesshomaru. What do you want?” I hoped the impatience in my voice covered the wavering. Why can you do this to me?

“We have an assignment to do.”

How could I have forgotten? Shit. I glance down at my watch. I’m going to miss my train, and there was no way my manager would let me live it down.

“Sesshomaru, can we talk about this later? I have to go.”

“We cannot. It is due on Monday. Today is Friday. I would rather not have to see you during my weekend.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. 

“You’re going to get me fired! Look, just… just –“

I reach into my bag, pulling out a pen and paper. After scribbling down my home phone and email and home address, I shoved it into your hand. There is no time for me to play these games with you.

“Call me or something. I have to go. Like, five minutes ago.”

I walk away,quietly fuming.

God, I love watching you.

Asshole.