Show Me Your Soul

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 1 (v.1) - Prologue

Submitted: November 26, 2016

Reads: 7293

Comments: 8

A A A | A A A

Submitted: November 26, 2016








Show me

the most damaged

parts of your soul,

and I will show you

how it still shines like gold


Nikita Gill





~ Prologue ~




I was insanely late for college. I even missed the first lecture. After begging Mom to lend me her car, I drove as fast as possible. I couldn’t be late again.

Okay, technically it wasn’t that bad since it was my first day after winter break. Yeah, and it started with me being a complete scatterbrain. Good job, Cecily.

This morning was a nightmare: my alarm didn’t wake me as it should have, thus I laid in my heavenly bed till the sunlight tickled my face.

Running like a maniac, I managed to put on my jogging pants. No bra, no make-up, no brushing my teeth. Not even breakfast.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other clenched around my phone, I sent Cassy and Ruby a message to reserve a seat for me.

The music was on full blast, the way I liked it most, when I turned left to the parking lot. The facilities of the teaching hospital were to my right, and its familiar architecture already intimidating from above.

I still didn’t relax completely over the vacations. I would’ve liked to have a few more weeks of freedom and relax somewhere in Hawaii or something. Bummer.

Whatever, I just needed to attend a couple lectures and then I’d be back in my comfy bed, under a blanket and a book between my palms. Heavenly.


Oh my gosh… out of nowhere another car just appeared and hit my front passenger’s door.

Instantly, I hit the brakes while my heart threatened to beat its way out of my rib cage. It wasn’t a powerful impact, it just startled me. And made me angry.

What the hell was this guy thinking? Was he blind?

Ripping my door open, I made my way to Mr. I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-traffic-regulations. Okay, screw that being late stuff, it didn’t matter anymore.

“What the hell was that?! Couldn’t you slow down a bit, you cut my way!”, I huffed as he opened the door. Of course it was a “he”. Only guys with their big, expensive cars could care less about little ones like my mother’s.

But whoa–?

I had pictured a few images of how this guy could look like.

This was definitively not what I had expected.

He was more than a head taller than me which reluctantly made me feel miniscule. His black, tousled hair that would surely be quite straight if he had brushed it hung wildly on his forehead, each tip slightly curled in its own way. I noted his thick, sooty lashes, hiding the color of his eyes as he looked down at me.

His lashes lifted, revealing a sharp, electric blue color that stood out in contrast with his tanned skin. They were as luminous as a thunderbolt, giving me suddenly the feeling of being completely naked.

Although he was the one who stood with his bare chest in front of me.

No shit. Shirtless. SHIRTLESS!?

Holy… moly.

My gaze wandered from his chest down to the tiny hair under his navel.

I couldn’t talk. I could only stare at this broad and defined chest. His stomach was perfectly ripped, making me want to stretch my hand and feel every square inch of his skin. Jeans hung low on his hips and I was grateful he had put them on, at least.

But wasn’t he shivering? It was January and even though were living on the West Coast, it sure wasn’t warm enough to walk around like that.

Forcing myself to look him in the eyes, I prayed he didn’t notice my long stare. Well, it wasn’t my fault if that jerk was a show-off, so it was pretty simple to still remain pissed.

On a second glance, he looked like he didn’t get much sleep: Dark circles popped up under his eyes and he probably didn’t shave for at least two days.

He blinked a few times as if he just had realized a person was standing in front of him. Taking an exaggerated deep breath, he scratched the back of his head and parted his full lips to speak to me.

“Huh. Sorry, didn’t see ya, little girl.” His voice was deep, radiating pure annoyance. 

Whoa… little girl? Was he kidding me? I felt my cheeks flushing. “Pretty lame excuse. And I’m not a little girl.”

He cocked his head to one side with disdain. “I see it differently. Are you even a student? You look like twelve.”

“Excuse me?” My eyes went wide and I started to hate that face, as well as the rest of his body.

He laughed, a deep and throaty sound. “Nice t-shirt.” He took a step forward, bending down his head to read what was written on it.

Cool air brushed my arms and made my nips stuck out. His gaze was on my chest and I could feel my peaks pucker traitorously. I remained unfazed, like it was the most usual thing for me. Good to know it was the wind that made them stiffen, definitively not that jerk.

I need you to… me?”, he read, his eyes lingering on the letters.

I looked down at my shirt and remembered having worn one of my nerdiest chemistry t-shirt at night. I didn’t have the time to get changed but I also didn’t think anyone would make a comment on it.

Okay. Enough. I crossed my arms. His gaze was too long on my boobs. Perv.

“That’s a chemical molecule”, I snapped. “You wouldn’t understand–”

“Oxytocin.” He shrugged his shoulders, scratching his arm. My jaw dropped. Okaaaay, so he had a brain. By the time I found my voice, the corner of his lips curled up.

“The cuddle hormone”, he stated, as if he were doing me a favor at explaining what Oxytocin was. “So you want someone to cuddle you?”

A flow of embarrassment heated my face entirely. I put my hands on my hips, my look anything but amused. “Certainly not.”

He leaned his hips against his car and crossed his arms. His eyes glittered somehow; there wasn’t annoyance in them but something else. My guess was lust.

“Then you shouldn’t wear t-shirts with suggestive motives.”

“Well, at least I’m wearing one.”

I was not a bitchy person. Normally. But there was something about this guy that brought me in a total bitch-mode.

“Also, you talk big for someone who’s at fault.” I gestured to my car.

 “Relax, you little baby. I should be the one to complain, my Audi has a scratch. Your little car already looks like shit.”

“Thanks for your unasked opinion”, asshole. “But that doesn’t excuse your actions.” How could a person be so arrogant? He didn’t even see his mistake.

Moments passed before he let out a groan and stuck his hand in his pocket. He fished something out of it. A piece of paper. And a pen. Apparently, he didn’t possess a t-shirt but a pen and piece of paper in his pocket was a must-have. Weirdo.

“Here. You can send me the bill after you brought your car to the repair shop. Now stop whining about a little scratch, you baby.”

What. A. Douchebag.

“First of all, stop insulting me, that’s not very nice. And second, screw you.”

Quickly shoving the paper in my pocket, I made my way to my car.

He laughed. “How ladylike.”

“Dickhead”, I muttered under my breath, loud enough so he could hear me.

He didn’t stop laughing, and I suddenly felt the urge to choke him.

“See ya, little girl.”

I didn’t know why I turned my head once I was inside. I caught a glimpse at him and the smirk on his face. A mass of hair bounced over his forehead as he kept laughing.

I stuck my tongue out – which was so not me and so not ladylike but I didn’t care. I parked far away from him.

I was a dental student, so hopefully he was some med student or maybe took the wrong direction and I’d never have to deal with him.

Running upstairs to meet Cassy and Ruby, I fumbled for my phone in my purse, and my fingers caught hold of something tiny and thin. Before looking at the piece of paper, I knew it was the one that guy had given to me.

Because of my stupid curiosity, I involuntarily unfolded it:


Ace Aurenglade


Wow, he even gave me his address. And what a neat handwriting for a boy. Whatever.

Either he was too naïve or completely insane to give a stranger all this information.

Huh… Ace…strange name. Well, it suited for a strange person.
























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