Class Villainess

Chapter 99 - The Red Rose Man's Help (3)



Chapter 99 – The Red Rose Man’s Help (3)

xx: Why photo? That's too cliche, darling.

xx: I want to ask something a bit naughty. I don't want you to feel like I'm a creep.

xx: So I want you to drop me the clothes you wore to school today.

xx: You wore a plaid shirt, right? I bet you haven't washed it yet. Drop it outside, at the back door. I'll pick it up and replace it with a box of crystal meth. 

Oh, come on! What kind of high-level creep can you be! Why would you want my sweaty-ass plaid shirt? You know, at this point, I'd rather give you my photo.

Even my baby photo, I didn't mind it!

Wait, the baby photo sounded even grosser than before, never mind then.

Emmy: Fine, do you want me to drop it now?

xx: Yes, I bet Mom is already sleeping at this hour, right? 

Emmy: Stop making it as if he's your Mom!

xx: Darling, we're going to marry in the future. Of course, I'll call him Mom, just like how you'll call my parents Mom and Dad.

Ugh, fucking creep!

But what he said was true. Mom must've been sleeping at this hour. I checked the clock, and it was 10.30 already. 

I sighed, walked to my laundry basket at the corner of my room, and then picked up the brown plaid shirt I used today. 

I smelled it and distanced my nose immediately. 

Ick, it smelled of sweat. 

Of course, since I used this for the whole day and used my bike, I got sweaty.

It didn't smell that bad, but I still hated it since I remembered some of those bullies tormented me for being a nasty, smelly pig. 

Yet, this one-man liked this kind of thing. What a sick man.

I bet he was some ugly ass creep, no doubt. 

I opened my door room and peeked from the staircase, checking if my Mom was still watching some late-night show or not.

Luckily, there was nobody in the living room. 

So I went downstairs and headed straight to the kitchen, where the back door was located. I unlocked the key and took a deep breath.

Click.

I opened the door slowly, peeking at what was outside in case that creepy man might be around.

After finding it safe, I hung the shirt at the door handle outside and then closed the door silently. 

I locked the door again, afraid that he might break in and attack my family and me. 

I took out my phone and texted him.

Emmy: I've put my plaid shirt outside. 

xx: Yes, I saw that, wait for about thirty minutes and open the door, okay? The box of crystal meth will be at the door for your use.

I wasn't brave enough to confront him, but I also didn't want to miss this moment because this felt like a totally illegal trade between us.

But the trade wasn't between money and drugs. It was a smelly plaid shirt for a box of expensive drugs. 

Strange, I knew. 

After fifteen minutes, I could faintly hear the firm footstep walking towards the door. I listened carefully but dared not open the door.

I feared my own life, feared that he might bring a weapon and attacked me while I opened the door. 

After a while, his footsteps started getting further and further. I assumed that he was walking away from the door. 

I checked my phone to see if he had texted me. In another ten minutes, he finally texted,

xx: The box is at your door, my dear.

xx: Thank you for the shirt, darling. 

xx: it smells like you, so wonderful. I really want to hug the real you. I really want to kiss the real you…

Ugh, come on, things were already bad right now. You didn't need to make it even worse!

I didn't intend to open the door right now because I was afraid that he was still standing there. Maybe he was faking his footstep and was ready to strike me with a baseball bat or something. 

It was like a scene of horror, where I clutched my phone tightly and cowered in fear behind the door. 

I waited until exactly one hour, and when I opened the door slowly, peeking with only one eye, hoping that my greatest fear wouldn't come true. 

After being assured that everything was safe, I opened the door a bit more and saw a black box on the mat. 

I sighed in relief and lowered my guard a bit. I opened the door a bit more and took the box inside. 

But when I was about to close the door again, I looked up and saw a figure in the dark of the night, standing quite far from my position. 

Although I could see nothing since it was really dark and there was no garden lighting, I could see that he was wearing a hoodie and holding my plaid shirt.

I couldn't see his expression, but I could sense that his eyes were glued at me, and he was smirking. I couldn't determine whether he had malicious intent or not, but his smirk definitely perked up when our eyes met.

I froze on the spot, my leg felt too weak, and I could not move nor react with anything. I lost all strength on my feet, thinking that I might've made a really terrible choice to open the door. 

But then, I heard the notification of an incoming message on my phone. The man then turned around and walked away leisurely, leaving me terrified for another ten minutes before I regained my strength and closed the door silently. 

I locked the door and slumped on the ground. The shock was too much for me to handle. I never knew that being stalked like this was ten times scarier than in my stupid imagination. 

I slowly unlocked my phone screen and saw his text.

xx: Do you think I'll leave so soon? I keep waiting until you open the door, darling. So I can see your beautiful eyes, hair, face before I return.

xx: Thank you for the shirt. I'll treasure it. 

xx: I love you.

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