Highschool Bully is My Roomate

Chapter 4: The Great Awakening

Chapter 4: The Awakening Experience

Charlene's POV

The voices became distant again.

Distant yet loud, it threatened to swallow me whole.

I can feel his hand stroking the side of my face, brushing strands of hair away from my eyes.

My tank top is soaked through with sweat and I realize I no longer have my jacket on.

"Was I drugged?"

That explains the disorientation, the sweat, the anxiety.

People are looming over me, talking over me, whispering muffled voices.

I can't make out their words but I know they're talking and suddenly I can no longer feel Dino's hand on my face.

For what seemed like one good minute later, I can no longer hear the voices, it seems he made them leave.

It's just me and him now.

Dino, Dino Luiz Lucas.

He's stroking my hair and whispering.

I see his mouth moving but I can't hear anything.

His voice becomes distant like he's far away.

More distant.

My eyelids are closing despite the battle to keep them open.

I feel strength leaving me, I cannot physically lift a finger.

I'm tired of fighting the inevitable, I cannot win anyway.

The thought of completely surrendering my safety to Dino seems terrifying, I know I cannot trust him but at this very moment I cannot trust myself either.

I'm done fighting.

I willingly succumb to the dark oblivion.

I pass out.

3 DAYS LATER

I jolt upright.

Awake and fully conscious, startled by the sound of broken glasses.

The room is dark and cold, the only source of illumination being the bed lamp placed on either side of my bed.

Or is it mine?

What is this place?

The sound of his voice makes me jump.

"You assured me this would work!" He said,

"It has been three days!"

And then I see him.

Dino Lucas.

He’s directly under the skylight, pacing as he screams into the phone.

He's shirtless, only wearing navy blue sweatpants.

"I've done everything you asked me to"

He's calmer now, but still angry, obviously.

He's clearly not the type to negotiate.

I heard from Isobel he rarely loses his temper, that he's always so in control.

Maybe this is the exception, not the rule.

Now that I'm not as disoriented as before, I see him clearly.

For the man that he is, in all his glory.

I thought Tori Maxwell was carved from a dream.

But Dino,

Words cannot possibly describe the way he looked.

Every line of his face seemed carved by some meticulous hand; he was handsome enough to stop hearts mid-beat.

His long, very long dark hair, so smooth it looked spun from silk spilled over his shoulders in unruly waves, catching the faint glow from moonlight above.

Each time he spoke, his right arm lifted, fingers threading through the strands as he brushed them back from his brows, a careless motion that only made him look more dangerously composed.

The movement pulled attention to his body, hard, sculpted, and unapologetically defined.

His biceps flexed with quiet power, the muscles shifting beneath his skin like something alive, honed through discipline rather than vanity.

His chest, broad and firm, rose and fell steadily.

Under the skylight, pale beams traced every contour of his form, cutting along his collarbones, dipping into the shadows of his abs, and highlighting the fine sheen of sweat that clung to him.

It wasn’t messy, it was deliberate, almost intoxicating, as if he carried heat within him that the air couldn’t cool.

His sweatpants sat low on his hips, the material clinging in all the right places, outlining the solid strength of his thighs and the unmistakable presence beneath.

It wasn’t something he tried to hide—it simply existed, part of the same confidence that radiated from him without effort.

Everything about him felt intentional yet effortless.

The hair, the body, the slow movements, he was not trying to be seen.

And that was exactly why it was impossible to look away.

He stepped forward, instinctively positioning himself between himself and the glass shelf that housed his many trophies.

Despite the quiet, nightlight aura surrounding him, he commanded attention without uttering a word. Menacing, enigmatic, the air around him thrummed with raw presence, he was Dino Lucas, Meridian Royalty, and effortlessly dangerous.

"Why is she not waking up?"

His deep voice rose back to full pitch.

I thought he sounded calmer a second again.

"Doctor Robinson!" He snapped

"You have been here to check on her everyday since the after-party, you assured me that drug had zero consequences, why is she not waking up?"

He turned toward the glass trophy shelf.

For a split second, everything stilled.

And then he drove his fist straight through it.

The crash was deafening.

Glass shattered everywhere, exploding into sharp fragments that caught the skylight as they fell like glittering knives.

Charlene gasped in full panic, her heart slamming violently against her ribs.

The sound of glass shattering to pieces covered the sound of his voice.

The trophies all came crashing down as he kept pounding his fist against the shelf repeatedly.

He was bleeding.

Blood splattered all over his fist.

It ran down his hand, dripping from his knuckles, streaking down his wrist as if he couldn’t even feel it.

His chest rose sharply, breath uneven, eyes unfocused, yet still burning with that same terrifying intensity.

I was intimidated by this man but now I'm scared. Violence has this effect on me, I enter fight or flight.

Then the shelf,

It started to fall.

Before I can stop myself, I am at his side.

Using every fragment of strength in my fragile body to pull him away from the broken shelf that came tumbling down on him.

"What are you doing?" I cried

We took cover behind the hardwood table.

The shelf is broken, the trophies are scattered all over the floor.

Books and sneakers, blood, blood and blood.

"You..." He said

"You're awake."

I can feel him leaving me.

He's losing consciousness.