A Beautiful, Terrible Love by Lucky 97 (bearly read books TXT) 📕

don't know why, but he thought me to be special. One of a kind. Beautiful.
And being the persuasive rockstar he is, I began to believe him.
Starting with the events on that very first night and leading to this afternoon, I had begun to increase in self-esteem, his encouraging words and approving looks sending me even higher. When I needed him this last week he was always right there beside me, an encouraging enigma, a gorgeous silver knight that would always come to my aid. He paid me an amazing amount of attention, more than he SHOULD give me, really, while almost ignoring everyone else.
Dex's behavior angered Akemi and Ayako the most out of all of the crazed fans in our school. They were vicious to me, even more than usual, but this time behind my back. They couldn't do anything to my face for fear of Dex getting angry at them. I could hear their whispers, though, as they polluted the rest of the population to their side, yet still had the nerve to flirt with Dex right in front of me. Their charm had no effect on him, though, his cool and calm demeanor politely brushing them off, paying no attention to their wily allurement. He only had eyes for me, a strange thought, honestly, and that confused me more than anything else.
He was the perfect gentleman, always opening the door for me, sticking to my side like glue. He was reliable, a brilliant tutor, teaching anything I didn't understand. He supported me with whatever I did, offering suggestions. He was also really funny, a comedian, who possessed just enough immaturity to say the hilarious jokes instead of the polite, reserved ones.
Everyone, I could tell, was jealous of me, which only served to fuel Akemi and Ayako's horrible rumors. They all seemed to want to believe it, those whispers of my "broken home life" and "she's just with him for the money" infecting them like a virus. Dex only sat with me at lunch, which was the instigator of even more sharp bitter words directed towards me, Dex too "popular" to be talked about. The popular table invited Dex constantly to sit with them-well, Akemi and Ayako at least, I don't think Peter was too interested-, but he refused, choosing instead to pull me from the library to a circular table in the lunchroom set for two. It was not that Dex was not amiable towards the other students, it was just that he didn't spend much time with them, choosing instead to be by my side. He seemed to understand that I needed it. Needed him.
To fill that empty gap Peter had left vacant so many years ago.
I guess that is why I suddenly felt whole, like the missing piece to the puzzle had finally been found... the heart finally mended. That is what made me decide to shimmy into the gorgeous clothing and wear it for the world to see, no matter how badly it might suit me.
A flash of insecurity rose in my chest as I surveyed myself once again in the hall mirror, observing, with a critic's eye, watching for anything out of place. Everything had to be perfect. I had spent over an hour stressing over my hair, makeup, and clothes, and I was not going to let it go to waste. I felt like I was about to enter an examination, and Dex was the-amazingly hot-judge. I couldn't fail this test.
I wondered what made Dex's opinion matter so much, how a single word that he speaks can lift me high with joy, or drag me to the darkest depths in sadness. He was honest, for one thing, but that wasn't the thing that made me so susceptible to his words. It wasn't that he was a rockstar, for I actually tended to forget he even WAS one. It wasn't even his handsome appearance, for I was not THAT superficial -yes, Akemi and Ayako, I'm talking to you.
It was just... him. His personality. His uniqueness. The way he devoted almost all of himself... to me. I felt extraordinary, and it was all thanks to him. I didn't want to fail him. I wanted to be that special someone, that person he admires.
The person he might love.

I stepped to the top of the stairs, my whole body shaking a little in anticipation. Maybe I should change to a plain skirt and a t-shirt, something a little looser. Yes, maybe that simple dress that's much more modest and won't attract much attention. I turned in the direction of my room, opting instead to change into a less "beautiful" choice of clothing. That would be better...
I stopped in my thoughts, alerted by Dex's agitated, melodious voice. "Are you up there? The reservations are at six!"
"I'm coming!" I called, anxiety laced through my words. No time to change then. I would have to deal with my current outfit. I took a deep breath, and took the first step down the long flight of stairs that would lead me to judgment.
What I did expect was Dex standing by the bottom row of stairs, looking up at me, a smile gracing his handsome face.
What I didn't expect was his jaw dropping to his knees.
His look of utter admiration amazed me. How could he possibly be enamored of me? I was ceaselessly surprised by his reactions, his kind words. But this? This open adoration was well undeserved.
I smiled timidly, my eyes crinkling in happiness and delight. This was beyond a fairy tale. Beyond a fantasy.
For this was more than I ever dreamed of.
From the very beginning of my crush, my obsession, I never expected to see him, meet him, or even talk with him. He was always that "unattainable someone", that person I couldn't help but regard with reverence. He was that dream boy, that ideal guy that everyone wanted, the pinnacle of the social pyramid. He was too important to be with someone like me. Supermodels wanted to be his girlfriend, rockstars wanted to be his best friend, and everyone in general wanted to BE him.
And this "it" guy was standing in front of me, staring his eyes out.
Dex was very deserving of his dream boy status tonight, his eyes green as a meadow, sparkling with amazing depth. His whole face was chiseled, his cheekbones jutting out slightly, a tiny cleft in his chin adding to his masculine appearance. He was wearing a button-down shirt, light green in color, paired with khaki pants and Italian leather shoes that were obviously expensive. He looked like he walked right out of a fashion magazine, his attire accenting the rich tones in his red hair.
Dex seemed to realize that his jaw was hitting the floor, and reconnected it quickly. My mother giggled from her perch, her chestnut eyes winking in appreciation us both.
"Reminds me of when I was younger," she nodded at me. "When I was dating your daddy."
Dex gave a start at what she said, confusing me. What had disconcerted him?
"Shall we go?" his musical, manly voice erupted from his mouth, disarming me. His voice was so beautiful.
"Of course," I replied softly, and we headed to the car, together, I almost drowning with overwhelming happiness. Dex was perfect and, for now, he was mine.

"You look beautiful," Dex commented softly, his breath tickling the nape of my neck as he leaned in.
"Oh... so THAT'S why your jaw was hitting the floor," I laughingly joked. It was fun to tease Dex, for he wasn't very good at comebacks, leaving him with a blush on his cheeks.
"Duh," his eyes crinkled with amusement, his mouth curving upwards in a grin. "If you didn't realize that already then you must be stupid."
"Ooh, I'm hurt," I put a hand over my heart, sarcastically. "That hurt me real bad."
"Yup," he agreed.
An awkward silence followed, each of us unsure of what to say. Dex seemed to have something on his mind, his eyes unfocused, his lips pursed in thought.
"Say it," I said softly, reaching forward. I brushed my finger across his cheek, softly, as if he was a fragile sculpture, a wondrous beauty. Once again, I felt incredibly lucky, my heart thumping in my chest.
My breath caught as he grabbed my hand, refusing to let me pull away. He turned to face me, not a problem in the spacious limo. His eyes pulled at mine, an irresistible force that always managed to melt me into a puddle of goo.
"I don't know if I should," he murmured, releasing my hand, finally.
"Go ahead," I felt comfortable, like I could share anything with him. He was the perfect confidante, a good listener, and was blessed with a mouth that wasn't disconnected from his brain. I couldn't imagine him asking any question I didn't want to answer.
But then he did. "Where is your dad?" he inquired softly, as if his words, if spoken quiet enough, would not affect me as much.
I looked to the black carpet below us, my mind churning with sorrow and pain not caused by Dex himself, but his words. The memories that resurfaced were painfully vivid, making me wince.
"I'm sorry, Eve," he caught my stricken expression and hurriedly put his arms around me. "You don't have to tell me anything."
His eyes searched for mine, regret searing through him. I smiled weakly, reassuring him. "It's okay. You would find out anyway soon enough."
Dex slowly leaned back in his seat, releasing me, closing his eyes. I felt comforted by the loss of the sharp intensity of his eyes, somehow enabling me to pour out my soul to him.
"He's dead," I couldn't withhold a sharpness to my tone, a bitter agony pricking me like a thorn. Dex, however, didn't budge, no reaction at all showing on his handsome features. "He died in a car crash two years ago," I choked out. "He lost control of the car, and ran into a tree. I... I told him not to go that night." I could feel my words flipping, twisting, melding together in sorrow. Why did I have to break down in front of Dex, of all people?
A single tear flew out of the corner of my eye, sniffles taking me over.
"Please don't cry," I heard a melodic, masculine voice, dripping with concern. Dex's hands brushed across mine, his eyes flying open. "I don't think I can take it if you cry." He said gently.
I suddenly felt an overwhelming thankfulness that he was here with me. He listened to my sorrow, and comforted me a little, making me feel special. I wasn't deserving of his kind manner, his devoted attention.
I smiled softly. "Don't worry, Dex. With you, I won't."
It was the only thing I knew for sure right then.
He grinned back, his pearly whites flashing in the dimly lit interior of the luxurious vehicle. "That makes me very happy," his eyes, intense as always, drilled into mine, and somehow, I didn't feel any discomfort.
I took his hand, and we sat in silence the whole way, his presence alleviating, soothing my nerves.

Once we arrived, I jerked my head back; suddenly aware of the way my head was precariously close to falling into his lap. I had gone off into a daze, and everything had temporarily gone blurry.
Dex looked at me, amusement in his eyes. His face was close to mine, smooth as marble, and the slightest of red giving life to his rather pale complexion. His lips, plump from the use of chapstick, were curled in enjoyment as he surveyed my form, splayed out before him, my head on his shoulder, like he owned me or something.