✧

I sat by the shore, watching the endless waves crash against the white sand.

My tears had dried, leaving black stains on my pale cheeks.

The moon had calmed my nerves, my heart began to steady as I watched the light of the moon shine down on the dark blue sea.

I bit my lip as my mind began to recount the memories from only minutes ago.

"You know you want me Daisy." He whispers against my ear.

I shake my head frantically trying to get out of his grip.

His hand comes to my chin, gripping it harshly.

"Stop playing hard to get, baby." He grits out as he shoves a hand down my pants squeezing my bottom.

"Your right. I'm sorry, Michael." I said softly looking up at him with attempting lustful eyes.

He smirks down at me and takes his hand out of my pants, bringing it to my cheek.

"I knew it." He whispers darkly kissing me down my neck.

I took this as my chance and lunged my knee towards his groin, pushing him off me as hard as I could, and made a fee line for downstairs.

I walked out of the house filled with drunk teenagers and breathed in the fresh winter air.

Tears began to well up again, but I immensely shook my head and sighed looking up at the moon.

Suddenly I feel someones presences next to me.

The smell of a manly cologne hits my nose, and I found myself shockingly loving the fragrance.

I frown and look beside me, only for my eyes to widen.

He had a single cigarette in his mouth, inhaling the smoke and exhaling through a small part of his lips.

His defined jaw was clenched as his cold eyes rested on the beach in front of us.

He had sat down beside me, one leg propped up as the other one laid flat on the sand.

Angel Romano.

My eyes widened as I realised I was in the presence of the cold-hearted killer himself.

His father scared me more though.

He was the son of the British/Italian Mafia Don, Carlos Romano.

Carlos made sure that anyone who crossed him ended up tortured and dead.

His son, Angel, did the dirty work most of the time. Killing multiple men and women, torturing them until they were lifeless.

Of course, that's only what I've heard.

I tend not to give in to rumours, but actually hear it from the person themselves.

Though, I don't doubt the rumours about him.

Although, Angel was known for one thing that I was certain wasn't a rumour.

Everyone at Lockwood high knew that once the beast is out, there was no turning back.

Angel's anger was something everyone feared him for.

Angel had fought a guy on the football team until he was nearly dead.

Luckily a teacher had stopped it in time, it took all three of Angel's friends to get him off the guy.

I realised I had been staring at him for so long, and I quickly looked away before he could catch me.

I forget who I was within that moment, as my mind races with thoughts.

"Daisy, right ?" His deep British Italian accent sent chills down my spine.

I gulp and turn my head in his direction, his eyes rested on the moon as he exhaled the white smoke.

"Yes." I whisper out.

For the first time in this moment, he looked at me.

My breath got caught in my throat as I looked up at him.

His eyes were a mix of grey and blue, the light of the moon shone upon them, making them seem magical. They were cold and empty, void of any emotion.

His skin was flawless, the tattoos on his chest peaked up from under his black hoodie. His cheekbones were high and arched, sculpted to perfection.

His lips were placed perfectly plump and red. And his jaw was sharp and defined, looking as if it was made by the gods themselves.

He had deep brown, almost black coloured hair. It was cropped to the bottom of his ears, as the brown mess sat on his head flopping down over his forehead.

His muscles could be visibly seen from under his hoodie, as they were shaped around his arms seeming to be fitted nicely.

He physically seemed to be made perfect, as there was to be no finer male that could possibly beat the way he looked.

His appearance could make any man or woman weak at the knees.

Though, it was also intimidating as hell.

He held a sort of power within him, making anyone drop to their knees and obeying instantly.

He seemed to be scanning me as I was with him, until he looked away from me, putting out his cigarette in the process.

"What's got you crying, Daisy ?" He asks me emotionlessly, his eyes glancing to the sky.

I sigh and aimlessly shrug my shoulders.

"Nothing important," I answer as I subconsciously play with the sand.

He was looking right at the moon, making his eyes glint under the moonlight.

They glance to mine, our eyes connecting before looking away not being able to handle the intensity they held.

"Why are you here ?" I ask him.

His face remains blank, as he replies.

"Peaceful." He answers.

I smile to myself at the answer.

It was really peaceful.

We sit on the beach under the moonlight, silently.

"Daisy ?" I hear a deep voice call from behind me.

I turn my head and see my cousin and best friend, Tyson Viola.

My parents had died with his in an unfortunate plane crash, ever since then, Tyson had been looking after me.

I smile at him and stand up for my spot.

I dust off my jeans and turn to Angel.

"Bye," I say softly, waving my hand at him.

His dark eyes glance up at me emotionlessly.

"Later, moonlight." He says, nodding his head at me once.

I blush at the name, being incredibly thankful for the darkness.

I walk away and head towards my cousin.

"Hey, Ty." I greet him as he leant against his car.

He leans off the car and smiles down at me.

He wraps his big arms around me and rubs my back.

"What's got you all red, Daisy ?" He asks me.

I laugh and shake my head.

"Nothing," I answer shortly.

He pulls away and rolls his eyes.

He opens the door for me and I thank him as I get in.

We drive off towards our house.

Tyson was only three years older than me making him be 20 years old now. When our parents died he was only 18 at the time, so he was legally able to take me in.

Luckily both of our parents had been saving up money for us, though it was obviously not going to last us forever, so Tyson had to get a job.

A couple of months went by and he finally found a job, though still to this day I have no idea what he does.

Whatever the job is, it certainly is good since it pays extremely well.

After a short ride back, we had finally made it home.

We both got out of the car and walked towards our front door.

He opened it and we walked inside.

"Did you eat ?" He asks me.

"Yeah." I lied.

I wasn't very hungry, not after what happened tonight.

He nodded at me and then turned towards the kitchen.

"By the way, It's your turn to wash the clothes." He yelled from the kitchen.

I rolled my eyes and waved him off.

I walked up the stairs to my room and shut the door.

I sighed loudly as I rested my head against it.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath.

Once I had composed myself, I moved off the door and walked towards my bathroom.

I turned the shower on and let the hot water run.

I then grabbed my clothes from my closet and brought them with me into the bathroom.

Shutting the door, I began to strip off my clothes and threw them in the basket.

I looked at myself in the mirror as I dragged my hand across my neck.

A small bruise was forming on my arm from the pressure Michael had put on it when he grabbed me.

I looked at my pitch-black hair fall down in light waves down my back.

I've never been ashamed of my body, I knew it was something that caused attraction to others.

It was the reason he wanted me in the first place.

I am aware of the attention I get from people, though I don't pay any sort of mind to it.

My body had curves in all the right places, I had nice boobs that fitted my body perfectly, and my ass is something that caused the male species to attempt to touch it.

Though every time one did try to, I would either have Tyson there to beat the crap out of them or my friend Miya to scare them off.

I've never been a confrontational type of person, anxiety has always been an issue in that department.

Being a girl was hard, being catcalled and being called a 'whòre' for wearing something that you would feel confident in. But in this society others thought that wearing a short skirt would make you a slùt, or purposely asking for it.

I rolled my brown eyes and moved away from the mirror.

I went into the shower and started scrubbing and washing.

30 minutes later, I walked out of the steamed room and went straight to my bed.

I placed the blankets over my body and placed the pillows how I wanted them to be.

I put my phone on the charger and turned my alarm on, as I had school tomorrow.

Closing my eyes and resting my head against the pillow, falling into bliss.