Read Me (or maybe not, I'm not finished)

Chapter 1: Him

When I was 18, I met a boy. A man... a demon. An angel.
He was gorgeous.
I knew from the first look that I would give him some part of me. Or... he would just take it, I wasn't sure. It wasn't a one-time meet type of setting; we were in class together. It was the Geography 1010 class I had to take for my associate's degree that my parents insisted on.
He sat next to me every day, his hair a shaggy red and his cheeks freckled. I had to be careful not to stare at him, but even now I could still tell you the way his eyebrows would furrow when he took notes. How his shoulders would tense when he was really focused. How his lips would lift in a smirk when he noticed me looking at them.
He didn't say much to me at first, just a simple "hey" or "sup" when he sat down. But after a month or so, he seemed to notice my attention and offered to entertain it.
"Do I have something on my face?" he whispered to me one day.
"W-what?"
"Do I have something on my face? You keep glancing at me, and I wanted to make sure it was good. I have an interview later." His lips were curved into a smirk, and my face began to burn.
"I- uh, no, no. I'm sorry."
Thump, thump, thump.
He smiled, looking down at me, and leaned in.
"Are you sure? I thought I might have something by my lip," he pointed to a spot near the corner of his mouth, where there was indeed a pencil smudge. "Do you think you could get it for me?"
"I- I- y-yeah, sure, I can." I licked my thumb and wiped his cheek with it, without thinking about it. Before I could blush harder, realizing what I just did, he absentmindedly licked the corner of his mouth and muttered, "Thanks, Sugar. Say, what are you doing after class?"
Thump, thump, thump.
"Uh, nothing. nothing at all."
"Sweet, wanna get lunch or something?"
"s-sure, yeah."
After class that day, after I forced myself to calm down, the two of us walked to get burgers. I remember the way he walked, with both hands in his pockets. His body relaxed and confident. That day, he had red, worn-out Converse that made my black Converse with little stars feel childish and stupid.
"So, tell me about yourself, Sugar."
"I-" I looked up at his eyes, fighting my blush and stupid, flustered girlishness. "Well... I- Wh- what do you want to know?"
"Well, first of all, who are you?"
I chucked awkwardly. I suppose this is our first time really talking, isn't it?
"Well, my name is-"
"I know your name, Malena. I mean, who are you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I- Well, I'm 18... I, uh..." I looked at him nervously.
"I can be more specific," he chuckled, "or better yet, I can give you an example."
"Okay."
"I am Sandy, I am 20 years old, and I am going to be a deadbeat college dropout if these classes don't get any less dreary."
"Haha, you want me to say something like that?"
"Fine, no, I'll be serious. I am Sandy, I am 20 years old, and I am a college student studying to get my bachelor's in education. particularly mathematics."
"oooo, I didn't peg you as the nerdy type."
"Hey! I have more personality than you might think! I've got layers."
"layers!? hah!"
"Now you, go ahead."
"Alright, well," I paused for a moment, "okay. I am Malena, I am 18 years old, and I am also a college student. I am just getting my associates, my generals, and then I'll probably leave and pursue art or something cliche like that."
"Hah, at least you're self-aware. That is such a college dropout cliche. You either become a fast food worker or pursue the arts." Sandy chuckled and looked forward. I watch his face for a moment.
"Yeah, it kind of is, isn't it?" We reach the food chain, and he opens the door for me.
"Hey! You said it first! But, yeah, it is." He smiles.
---
"So, Sugar. You're a Coke kinda girl, you like cheese on your fries, and you're a cliche college dropout. What else should I know about you?" Sandy slid into the booth across from me with our food.
"I am not a college dropou-"
"yet. You're not a college dropout, yet," he gave me a mocking smile.
"Whatever, Mr.Middle-school-math-teacher."
"That is Mr.Hot-middle-school-math-teacher to you!"
"You think you're hot, Narcissus?"
"Don't you?" He leaned back, grabbed his milkshake, and brought it to his lips. I looked away, fighting the heat rising to my cheeks as I searched for something clever to say.
"Weren't you the one who was gonna drop out? I said I was going to get my associate's."
"Whatever you say, sugar."
"You're just trying to get me either flustered or frustrated, aren't you?"
"Why just one? I think it's cute when you blush, and you blush like crazy either way."
"Whatever." I rolled my eyes, heat building in my chest and cheeks, and brought my Coke to my lips to hide my smile.
---
Hours passed before we decided to walk back to campus. I found out a couple of weeks later that he skipped two classes to talk to me that day.
He opened the door for me as we left, and as he did, a large brown moth flew toward him, making me shudder.
"What is it, Sugar, you scared of bugs?"
"Not quite, try moths specifically." Sandy held out his hand to the moth, and bile rose in the back of my throat.
"Please, stop," I whispered as the moth landed on his finger, perched upon it perfectly. As if it belonged there. As if the two of them were already close friends.
The Devil was there that day, kissing the touch of Death himself.
It felt like hours watching that moth sit on Sandy's finger, but a few seconds later, it flew away, and I realized I had been holding my breath.
"You alright, Sugar?"
I met Sandy's eyes and quietly tried to catch my breath.
"Yeah."
"Okay... shall we?" he gestures toward the sidewalk leading back to the school.
"Y-yeah, let's go." I followed his hand and began walking back toward the school. Surprisingly, I didn't feel the moths multiply inside of me then, despite my kit burning against my thigh from inside my pocket. I took a deep breath to calm the anxiety bubbling up in my chest, getting lost in my head.
He must have noticed because he began to soften as he walked. His cocky "you're-hot-for-me" attitude melted as he watched me.
"You, uh, need to stop for anything? I can get you some water, and we can rest for a moment?"
I looked at him and thought for a moment.
"Yeah, that would be nice."
He found me a bench to sit on before running back into the fast-food restaurant. I watched him go, and as I did, the moths began to multiply. Slowly, they began to flutter against my chest and through my veins. They swarmed my mind, blurring my vision. round and round and round and round they flew through my mind, beat against my lungs, pushed against my skin, begging to get out.
Then, I saw him again, and they calmed down. They no longer beat against me; it was just him.
I felt my breathing slow, my temperature lower, as he got closer to me.
"Here, Sugar." He handed me the water and sat down.
"Thank you, Sandy."