Bad Girl. by E Z (classic novels to read .TXT) 📕

Damon couldn't help the thrill that went through him when Libia splayed her hands over his stomach, and he had to work hard not to shiver at her touch.

They went speeding off, and Libia let out a delighted howl at the exileration that raced through her.

Her hair flew behind her, and the wind whipped at her face. She felt alive.

"Where are we going?" She called in Damon's ear.

Grinning, he briefly glanced at her over his shoulder. "Somewhere," He answered vaguley.

Laughing, Libia lightly tapped her forehead on his back. "Jerk!"

He chuckled, gaining even more speed as they zoomed past the traffic light.

It took thirty minutes to get to their destination. They were out of the city, and in an industrial part on the outskirts. Libia's hair was a mess of tangly waves, and she combed her fingers through the strands, trying to detangle it the best she could.

She got off of the bike, looking up at the seemingly-abandoned building they sat in front of. It was an old theater.

"Um...Damon?" She glanced at him apprehensively. "What the heck is this?"

Chuckling, Damon rummaged through a bag on the back of his bike and came up with a flashlight. He came up behind her. "This is fun, Babe. People say that this building is haunted. I want to see if what they say is true," He told her.

"Um. Okay, no," Libia turned and began walking away, but Damon caught her around the waist.

"Come on, Babe! I'll protect you," He murmured, his lips brushing her ear.

"I'd rather not go into an abandoned building. And anyway, it's ten AM! That's hardly scary," Libia told him, trying to pull away.

Damon tightened his arms, turning her around and lifting one hand to her chin. He lifted her face to his. "If I had brought you here at twelve at night, you wouldn't have gone in with me," He told her.

"And what makes you think I'm going in with you now?"

Chuckling, Damon pulled her tighter to him, so her body was flush against his. "Because deep inside, you're as curious as I am to see what's in there," He told her.

Libia shook her head. "I think you're wrong on that account."

Sighing, Damon leaned in close to her, his breath hitting her face, his lips just barely touching hers as he spoke, "Fine, because I'm asking you to, and it'll be no fun if you're not in there with me," He said.

Letting out a huff at his unfair advantage, Libia crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. "Fine. I'll go in the stupid building."

Damon smiled hugely. "Let's go!" 

He suddenly let go of Libia, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the building. She felt like the cartoon characters that dug their feet into the ground as the other dragged them along through the concrete. She managed to pull Damon to a stop right outside the door, under the old, beaten down overhang. The windows to the ticket counter was clouded up and dusty. Libia suddenly felt like a mouse.

"O-on second thought, you go ahead," Libia took a step back, but Damon dragged her to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Relax. We'll be fine."

Libia was on the verge of shaking, when a thought came to her. "Hey, isn't this breaking and entering?"

Damon looked down at her, and winked. "Maybe."

"Damon-!" Libia exclaimed, but she was cut off when he was suddenly right there, his eyes boring into hers, their lips inches apart.

"We won't get caught. I promise. You've got to break the rules if you want to break free," Damon told her.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Libia struggled to think clearly, "B-but-"

"Shh," He tenderly pressed his fingertip to her lips, silencing her before he began tracing them. "We won't get in trouble - I promise."

She was going to go insane if he didn't back off right then. Literally insane. She'd never been so...constantly touched by a man before. No matter what they were doing, he seemed to always be touching her in some way. Whether it be his arm around her waist, his hand in hers. The way he touched her face all the time, brushed her hair behind her ear. It was all so new to her, so...confusing.

She was only able to nod. Releasing her waist from his grip, he turned to the door with a smile and a wink her way. There was a jagged hole in the glass from previous B&E attempts, so all Damon had to do was reach in and flip the lock. He pushed on the door, grunting as it scraped against the floor and presented plenty of resistance. 

When the door was completely open, Damon stood back, and Libia scurried to his side, wrapping her arm around his own and clutching his sleeve with her other hand as she looked around. It was dark inside, despite the sunlight streaming through the open door. Damon smiled as he turned on the flashlight, threading his fingers through hers. 

It occurred to Libia that she didn't know this Damon at all. There was a defiant glint in his eyes, one that hinted at the "fugitive bad boy" that everyone had said him to be. She didn't know Damon well. She knew his protective side of her, and his playful side, his soft side, and a side she didn't want to see again - his angry side, but she didn't know his rebel side. Did he do this sort of thing often? Perhaps with his other friends?

Libia looked up at him in the darkness as they moved forward. The light briefly illuminated his face as he ran it over the delapidated ceiling, and his grin was one that told her that he was having fun. 

Libia, however, was a little terrified. The thought of being caught, plus the thought of something actually happening partaining to the supernatural was causing her to tremble next to Damon. Libia didn't believe in spirits leaving their body to haunt the place they died, but she did believe in Demons. Her mother was a baptist, and the baptist way was ingrained in her mind. She didn't like messing with things like this.

"D-Damon...I'm not sure-"

"Relax, Babe. I'm right here. If anything happens, I'll protect you. I promised, remember?" He looked down at her in the darkness, his eyes shining with determination. Libia got the feeling that he wasn't just talking about their situation at hand.

Still, she nodded, and he began dragging her forward. Despite his assurances, she still trembled as they went farther into the darkness. Consession counters sat empty and broken. The desplay that used to show candy were bare, the glass broken, browned, and even blackened in some places.

"This place used to be all the rage in my parents youth," Libia noticed a change in Damon at the mention of his parents. He was tense, his eyes showing with a new kind of anger - resentment. "They said that all the classics used to play here - Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, House on a Haunted Hill, Romeo and Juliet, yaddy, yaddy," He waved his hand, his muscular arm flexing at the movement. "My parents went to see every showing there was."

"Why is it haunted?" She asked him, imagining some stupid story about the place being built on a burial ground or some idiot bringing a Ouija board in the attic.

They entered a hallway, which led down both ways. A large, colonial 1 was painted above the door on the left, and on the right, was a number two. They walked down the hallway to the left, stopping in front of the two large doors, which used to be painted vibrant red, were now faded and weathered. Their originally golden-painted wooden, swirled handles were now chipped and dirty. 

Damon pressed a hand against the door, and then looked at Libia, before he spoke, "A man climbed up on stage in the middle of The Count of Monty Cristo, claimed that he had nothing else to live for, and shot himself."

Libia gasped, wrenching out of Damon's grasp as if she'd been shocked. Without another word, she ran. She ran back to the open door, her shoes clapping against the dilapidated wooden floor. "Libia!" Damon called her.

She ignored him. Did he really think that she would stay after she'd heard that?

No wonder this place was rumored to be "haunted." This was a hotspot for maniplulative demons to have their way with the history of the theater! With the poor man's story of depression.

She didn't stop, only slowed, as she reached the sidewalk. She walked briskly now, glaring at the ground. She couldn't believe he'd taken her there! She couldn't believe she'd let him lead her into that place! 

She was walking slow enough that Damon easily caught up to her in a jog. She harshly shrugged his hand off of her arm without looking at him.

"Libia, come on!" He grabbed a hold of her arm again, spinning her around.

"Leave me alone!" She told him.

"Libia, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken you in there," He lifted her face, but she stared at his mouth instead of his eyes. "Libia," Damon groaned, passing a hand over her forehead and brushing stray hairs from her face. "Look at me."

"Why did you take me in there, Damon? I'm not...I'm not brave like you...not as adventerous. I believe that messing with things like that will bring something bad along with you," She finally whispered.

Damon was silent for a few moments, before leaning his head down until she was forced to meet his gaze, those deep blue eyes warming. "I'm sorry. I had no idea you felt so strong about it. If I had known, you wouldn't have come within a mile of this place," He told her.

As the last words left his mouth, rain began to fall. It was in occasional drops at first, and then suddenly it was pouring. Both of them looked up at the dark sky, and then at each other. Thinking the same thing.

We came on a motorcycle.

"Shit!" Damon exclaimed.

Libia covered her mouth as a loud giggle escaped. They were beginning to soak in the sudden downpour, and it was getting colder, but Libia couldn't seem to care, as more laughter escaped. After a few seconds, Damon joined her. They laughed at their situation at hand, and at the fight they'd just shared. They laughed at their strange friendship, and at everything that had happened recently. They just laughed. Libia took a step forward, but slipped on the now slick concrete. 

"Umph!" She said as she fell into Damon, and he slipped. They went tumbling onto the ground, laughing as they went. 

"Ow," Damon said in a casual manner, blinking as rain fell into his eyes.

Libia could barely hear him over the pouring rain, but could see his lips move as she was above him. Libia's laughter slowly died down, as he lifted a hand to tuck a wet tendril of hair behind her ear. "Are you alright?" She asked him, voice soft.

He stared into her eyes, his own terribly soft. Instead of answering her, he asked, "Why can't I stop thinking about you?"

Libia's heart stopped, before pounding violently in her chest. "What?"

And there it was, that soft, genuine smile he loved to give her. And she loved to receive. "Don't look at me with those big eyes. It's not fair, Baby. Do you know how much power those two, chocolate brown orbs have over me? I'm not sure you should know," He mused.

Libia wrinkled a brow in confusion. Butterflies were now wreaking havoc in her stomach with every tender touch to her face. Every endearing pet name. She was falling, and falling hard. She was unable to speak, unable to move. Her eyes were caught in his, and even when the cold began to penetrate the thin shirt she had on, she could barely feel it. 

"Libia, baby," Damon cooed, smoothly lifting up on one elbow below