It was the third day since my sketchbook went missing, and I felt like I'd lost a part of my soul with it. On the fourth day, I had only just stepped out of the sculpture studio that afternoon when I got cornered.

Elena was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, looking like she'd been waiting for me for a long time.

"Hey, you. Sculptor," she said, her voice sharp as a knife. I lowered my head and tried to avoid her gaze, trying to go around her.

"What's the rush?" she asked, stepping forward and getting in my way again. She then showed me her phone screen by shoving it under my nose.

"Take a look at this. Does any of it look familiar to you?"

The photos she was showing me were all sketches of Liam.

The sketches showed him yawning in class, reading at the library, and she'd also taken a photo of the one where he frowned while hitting his climax during sex. T

"Liam got into a fight?" I asked, grabbing Lia's arm. "Give me more details."

Lia lowered her voice and said, "I heard that the players had been chatting idly in the afternoon when it happened. Someone said that the sketch artist was a psycho with mental problems, and he specifically mentioned your name.

"He even said that you probably took more disgusting photos of him, and they said some really nasty things about you."

I felt my stomach churn in fear. "And then?"

"And then, Liam exploded. He just kicked the guy in the chest without another word! The coach was so mad that he immediately suspended Liam from the team, confiscated his phone, and put him in detention."

My head was buzzing. Why did he do that? Was it because of what the other players said? Was it because of me?

I leaned back against the wall, feeling a little unsteady on my feet.

I recalled how I once got stopped by a

Liam strode in and entered the bathtub with me. His shirt and pants were soaked and clinging to his body. I backed away on instinct until my back was pressed against the cold tiles behind me.

"G-Get out," I said, my voice trembling so hard I couldn't even recognize myself.

Liam grabbed me by my ankles and dragged me toward him. Water splashed everywhere, and I even choked on some that got into my mouth.

"Me? Get out?" he repeated after me, his eyes completely red. "Why didn't you think about chasing me out when you were moaning my name just now?"

"No… I didn't…" I tried defending myself, but I was completely tongue-tied.

Liam didn't give me another chance to explain myself. He kissed me fiercely on the lips, his entire body reeking of alcohol and passionate anger. He gripped my waist so hard that he left marks on my body.

The water felt like it was boiling, and yet, his skin was even hotter. His wet clothes quickly got in the way of me as they rubbed raw against my body.

Liam freed one hand and tore off his shirt. The buttons popped open and fell into the water.

"Why did you leave me that night?" he asked, pressing our foreheads together as his hot breath fanned across my face.

I looked away. How was I supposed to answer him? Was I supposed to tell him that it was because I felt like a joke to him?

"Say something," he demanded, grabbing me by my chin and forcing me to look back at him.

"I don't know," I said, forcing out the words from my throat. Liam's eyes dimmed. Then, he pressed me down on him and switched our positions in the tub.

I was now sprawled on top of his body as the water continued rippling around me. This position made him slide deeper into me as I sank down on him. I dug my fingers into his shoulders, my nails sinking into the flesh.

"What are you taking me for?" he asked, his lips brushing against my ear. "A tool? Something you can discard as soon as you're done with it?"

The steam from the water was making me dizzy. The alcohol was still burning in my veins. Pleasure and embarrassment mingled together in my body, and I couldn't even think straight anymore.

"No…" I said, shaking my head, my hair sticking to my face. "Not a tool…"

"Then what?" He thrust so deeply into me that I couldn't even talk straight anymore. Then, he continued slamming harder and more forcefully into me like he was trying to punish me.

The water in the tub shook rhythmically with his thrusting and spilled out all over the floor in waves.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I forced my eyes open. I could see the bathroom light reflected in his eyes. I could also see my dazed, blissed-out expression in them, too. I looked pathetic. 

The climax came quickly and suddenly.

I bit down on his shoulder to try and stop myself from moaning out too loudly. Meanwhile, Liam grunted and tightened his hold around my waist, pulling me so close that I nearly melted into his body.

The water in the bathtub calmed down eventually, and soon, only the sounds of our erratic breathing could be heard.

Liam carried me back to the bed and stuffed me under the blankets. Then, he buried his head in the crook of my neck again, and his breathing began to slow down.

I suddenly recalled the photo of him and Elena on the online forum and remembered Mom's tired voice on the phone from earlier today. Tears suddenly fell from my eyes.

"Liam," I said almost inaudibly, looking up at nothing. "You should stay away from me."

I couldn't bring myself to say the second part of my sentence, "I don't deserve you."

I was awakened the next morning by Liam's buzzing phone. He answered the call.

"Now? Okay, got it. I'll be there." Liam hung up and walked back to the bed. 

I didn't open my eyes and pretended that I was still asleep. He stood next to the bed for a long while. I could feel his eyes on me. Then, he crouched over and placed something next to my pillow.

I heard his footsteps as he walked toward the door. The door then closed behind him. He'd left.

I opened my eyes and saw the velvet box that still contained my Christmas gift. Right next to it, however, was a folded note.

It said, "As you wish. Let's not meet again."

…

I pulled the blankets off. My lower body still felt like jelly. I walked over to my desk and realized that my sketchbook full of doodles of him had gone missing.

I'd sketched him while he was playing matches, sleeping, and even frowning at something. I'd even sketched his expression when he'd reached his climax with me back then.

A horrible thought crossed my mind just then.

Had Liam seen it all? Had he taken the sketchbook with him? Had he finally noticed the feelings I'd been harboring for him?

It was the third day since my sketchbook went missing, and I felt like I'd lost a part of my soul with it. On the fourth day, I had only just stepped out of the sculpture studio that afternoon when I got cornered.

Elena was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, looking like she'd been waiting for me for a long time.

"Hey, you. Sculptor," she said, her voice sharp as a knife. I lowered my head and tried to avoid her gaze, trying to go around her.

"What's the rush?" she asked, stepping forward and getting in my way again. She then showed me her phone screen by shoving it under my nose.

"Take a look at this. Does any of it look familiar to you?"

The photos she was showing me were all sketches of Liam.

The sketches showed him yawning in class, reading at the library, and she'd also taken a photo of the one where he frowned while hitting his climax during sex. The photo was so clear that even the sweat droplets on him were visible.

They were all from my sketc

Chapter 6