Love You Again: A Drawn Novel
Love You Agan
Marian Tee
Contents
Dear Anonymous Readers,
ABOUT THE BOOK
Also by Marian Tee
1. Word of the Day: Hatsukoi, n
2. Word of the Day: Kabe-Don, n
3. Word of the Day: Otaku, n
4. Word of the Day: Kuudere, n
5. Word of the Day: Mecha, n
6. Word of the Day: Goukon, n
7. Word of the Day: Suki, n
8. Word of the Day: KWSK
9. Word of the Day: Zettai Ryōiki, n
10. Word of the Day: Jinja
11. Word of the Day: Mune-Kyun, n
12. Word of the Day: Doujinshi, n
13. Word of the Day: Purikura
14. Word of the Day: Rabu Hoteru
15. Word of the Day: Houkago, n
16. Word of the Day: Onsen, n
17. Word of the Day: Omiai, n
18. Word of the Day: Aishiteiru, v
19. Word of the Day: Jiko Bukken
20. Word of the Day: Lolicon, n
21. Word of the Day: Omake, n
22. Dear Reader,
Also by Marian Tee
About the Author
Dear Anonymous Readers,
Let’s just call him X - the first and only guy I’ve ever loved – also the first and only guy who’s broken my heart. I used to think that trauma caused by ugly breakups was only a thing in books, movies – and yes, manga – until of course it happened to me.
On hindsight, I really should have known better. He had so many issues it was only a matter of time before one of them drove us apart. And even if that hadn’t happened, we still wouldn’t have worked out. He was this perfect, gorgeous guy who had everything going for him while I…well, let’s just say I didn’t turn out to be this super-smart girl everyone thought me to be.
I hate him as much as I fear him, so much so that even in my dreams I can’t make myself think of his name, much less say it. It’s like my mind’s completely blocked the sound of it, and now his name works like a breakdown trigger. If I let myself say his name, that’s it, and believe me – what happens after isn’t pretty.
So yeah, it’s that bad between us, but I’m determined to put it all behind me now. I’ve moved to another country, doing my best to get my shite together. I’ve even made myself attend a goukon (a group dating thing) in hopes of finding love again.
Everything’s going well…
Until I bumped into him.
X.
Bloody. Bloody. Bloody hell.
The sight of him has my world spinning out of its axis, my face draining of color, my throat locking oxygen out---
I can’t remember feeling more terrified than I was at that moment. But the worst thing is – I can’t remember when the last time I felt so alive either.
ABOUT THE BOOK
Making up stories is my passion and what I hope to eventually to do for a living. More to the point, I draw them, and I’ve drawn a lot of them over the years. I’ve read a lot of them, too – both fiction and non-fiction – and I’ve read enough to understand that just because things don’t happen the way you think they should, it doesn’t mean they’re not what you want them to be.
So this sudden blend of greens and baby blues that I still have nightmares about, and me never seeing it coming – it doesn’t have to mean anything.
Or maybe it’s just like what I want to believe, when reality is a lot crappier.
Nothing about X is like I remember. Or maybe that’s just how gods are. They don’t age. They just get better, like fine wine. Or David Beckham. The point is, all the things I remember about X: it’s shite.
He doesn’t just have dark hair. Instead, it’s a silky jet black, the kind that makes you want to run your fingers through it. His body isn’t as I let myself remember either. I’ve only allowed myself to think he’s buffed, but he’s more than that now. Even though his long-sleeved shirt and khakis cover every inch of him like a nun from a convent, it’s not enough to hide the sinewy changes time has carved on his body. And his blasted baby blues? They’re glowing like aquamarines now, like icing on the cake, making him way, way ho---
Hotter.
Hotter.
Hotter.
I mean, horrible.
Also by Marian Tee
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Love You Again (A Drawn Novel)
By Marian Tee
Copyright 2017 by Streak Digital Publishing
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Word of the Day: Hatsukoi, n
1. The Japanese term for ‘puppy love’ or ‘first love’
2. Men who know how to lie at an early age – contributed by online user KCC
Three Years Ago
With Akito-san still at the office, it’s just us in his home, and I’m afraid the fact has made me a little crazy. And by that I mean I’m feeling way crazier than usual – about him.
A pair of baby blues stares down at me with a mixture of desire and wonder, and his hoarse voice is rough and strongly accented when he mutters, “I can’t believe you’re doing this, senpai.”
I can’t believe I’m doing this either, I think. But I don’t say it out loud, not only because it’s too embarrassing but also because I currently have my hands – and mouth – full.
Doing…this…is not what I imagined it to be at all. A small part of me was terrified I’d find the entire process gross, that I’d choke and maybe even throw up, but I hadn’t. Lowering myself to my knees, making him sit on the bed as I pull his zip down, and then opening my mouth to take him all in –
Every second of it had felt right. Natural. It felt like just another way to love him.
When his groan slips out of his throat, my lips instinctively tighten around him –
And then I start to suck, and he jerks in surprise.
“Senpai.”
His groan is raw. It’s too unearthly a sound. I feel faint, but I just can’t seem to stop sucking. Even my fingers have taken a life of their own, moving faster, gripping more tightly, just like he taught me.
The loud, staccato drumming of my heartbeat is almost lurid, with the way its every thump blends with the stroke of my tongue over the velvety tip of his hardness. He’s so, so wet – and so am I.
“Let go now, senpai.” The words are uttered between clenched teeth.
I want to obey him. I usually do. But…I can’t. Even with how badly my body’s trembling, I just can’t. There’s this little devil inside of me that only makes me suck harder, loving the way he has my mouth full.
A guttural sound hisses past his lips. “Katerina---”
OOOOH.
It’s so very rare for him to say my name like that, and I feel myself becoming wetter…and bolder. The sucking grows louder, my fingers become bolder, and his hardness swells inside my mouth.
“God. Damn. It.”
His hips thrust forward, shoving his thickness deep inside of me, all the way down to my throat.
Oh my God----
He pulls out and then thrusts back again, his hands gripping my head to keep it in place.
Oh my God----
And it happens again and again, faster, harder, deeper, and with every thrust my panties become more and more drenched.
Oh my God----
His gaze once again captures mine, and ah, his eyes are so wonderfully possessive my toes curl hard at the sight of it. And when he speaks, his voice comes in a deliciously rough rasp. “Are you really going to drink all of me?”
Oh my God----
It just makes me want to suck him forever.
“Katerina…”
I could weep at the way he makes me feel when he says my name like that. Only he can do that. Only him.
“Be mine.” It’s more the way he speaks than the words that rock my world. He says them like he knows I’m going to be a good little girl and swallow everything, says them like he knows it’s meant to be that I become his this way, too---
And he’s right.
It’s my last thought before he’s coming inside my mouth.
AAAAAAH.
Too sticky. Too salty. Too hot.
I should be choking on this, but instead my lips are wrapping more tightly around his length as if needing to squeeze everything out of him, all the way down to the very last drop.
I Am Such A Slut.
My cheeks still heat at the realization, never mind if it’s a truth I’ve long come to accept, and I feel myself reddening even more during the aftermath, which turns out to be more embarrassing than the actual act. I don’t know where to look as I pull away, and the sound of him loudly popping out of my mouth---
Bloody hell.
A low, soft chuckle tickles my ear, and a tingle dances down my spine. A moment later, and he’s yanking me towards him –
Everything happens so fast, and the next thing I know I’m squeaking in shock as I find myself straddling his lap. His fingers bite into my hips as he pulls me even closer, and that’s when I feel him.
He’s still so unbelievably hard.
My gaze jerks up to his, and his cruelly beautiful lips form the most angelic of smiles.
Uh. Oh.
“It’s time to play with my toy.”
Oh, yes. I mean – oh, no.
An hour – maybe more – must have passed by the time he’s, umm, done with me, and he pulls me in his arms after that, my body still trembling, my heart still thudding, my lungs still gasping for oxygen. It’s the usual post-orgasm aftershocks in other words, and I can’t help reddening as I feel him smile against my hair.
“Not funny,” I mumble.
“I think it’s delightful, senpai, that I can still take your breath away after all this time.”
“Hmph.” But then his arms tighten around me, just below my breasts. It’s too much temptation – and my body melts. What am I supposed to be mad for again?
For a while, we just stay there, and it feels so good I almost forget that life isn’t perfect.
Almost.
But then I hear him whisper---
“I’ll need to take you home soon.”
And reality beckons.
I know he’s waiting for me to answer, but my lips refuse to move. I know it’
s stupid, but I feel like if I don’t say anything then nothing I fear will be true, and I can pretend everything is still the way it was.
“Senpai?”
I shake my head. I don’t want to go home yet. That’s my answer. I just…I just want to spend every moment I can with him. It’s such a simple thing to want, so why does everyone seem to think it’s too much?
He turns me around, and when he inhales sharply, that’s only the time I realize my tears have started to fall. I quickly wipe them away, mumbling, “It’s nothing.”
“Of course it’s not nothing.” His voice is filled with strain and regret, and I hate myself even more for it. He’s got so much on his plate now, blast it. The last thing he needs is a weepy, self-centered girlfriend to add to his worries.
“I’m fine. Really.” I give him my widest and brightest smile, but it doesn’t work, and the tension in his form remains. “Please don’t worry about me. Please?”
“I can’t help it.”
His voice was low and bitter, and I just can’t stop feeling worse and worse. What the bloody hell are you doing, KC? You’re supposed to soothe his troubles away instead of acting like a spoiled kid.