Dark, Brooding, Mysterious

Dark, brooding and mysterious – that was him. His eyes were made of the darkest coals, his jaw from the sharpest of rocks. His lips formed only scornful, humourless smiles. His body was strong and lean, and he worked hard to keep it that way.

All the girls wanted a shot at seducing him, stimulated by the promise of mystery and danger. They all failed. He was just not interested.

He was captivated by only one girl.

She could not understand why everyone wanted to get inside his pants. She perpetually rolled her eyes when he was in her presence. She ignored him. What was the fucking big deal? Nothing.

That was why he could not help himself but to like her. She was a bitch, haughty and bitingly witty. But her hair was a mess and her two front teeth were a little bit too crooked for their own good. Truth be told, she was nothing special. But hell, she acted as if she was, so everybody else followed suit.

But dark and brooding only took you so far, as did pretending you were so great.

He actually had a temper that would rival a volcano's. And she truly was nothing special, just a bitch with a loud mouth who tended to piss everybody off.

She had the ability to piss him off the best, that was for sure.

When he shot her in the face, he reasoned he just put her in her place.

What he didn't know was that he actually did her a favour and ended her fucking misery.

So who had the final laugh?

He did. He was still alive, afterall. So he went back to being dark, mysterious and brooding. All the girls really liked it.