Fifty Shades Of Valentines

Christian Grey's first Valentines. Alone and frustrated at Harvard University on the most romantic night of the year, Christian is disturbed by a knock on his door...



Valentine's Day 2002. Harvard University.


This essay is boring the crap out of me.

I screw my eyes closed and rub my hand over my forehead in frustration. Here I am on the most romantic night of the year, alone in my damn apartment when all the other students are out getting laid.

I've declined all invites for parties and hook-ups tonight. In fact, I've declined every invite since I got here. I don't do parties, I don't do socialising and I certainly don't do dates. It hasn't seemed to deter people though. You'd think with all the brainiacs here, they'd know how to take a fucking hint...

Sighing deeply, I pick up my pen again.

Maybe give this essay another twenty minutes - thirty max - then I'm putting a  fucking porno on.

My right hand has been keeping me company whilst I've been on campus. It helps dull the ache in my loins due to the enforced separation from Elena. In the eighteen months we've been seeing each other, this is the longest we've ever been apart. It's been just over a month since we were last together, but it feels like a lifetime...

A sharp knock on my door makes me jump.

For fucks sake! How dumb ARE these people? Do I have to put a neon sign on my door that says FUCK OFF?

I shake my head and ignore the noise. Hopefully they'll think I'm out. I press my pen to my notepad, but the knocking persists, louder and more urgently.

I scrape my chair angrily backwards and jump up.

Whoever the FUCK this is better be wearing armour...

I stride angrily over to the door, unlock it and yank it open.

"WHAT?" I bark in annoyance at the hooded figure stood in my doorway.

To my utter surprise, the person shoves past me and is in my apartment before I can stop them.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK..?" I begin venomously to the back of the figure in a long, black hooded coat as they place a dark sports bag on the floor.

My unwelcome visitor turns slowly and as their head rises, I'm met by a familiar pair of glittering ice-blue eyes.

"Lock the door, Christian."


I throw the door back in its hinges and hurriedly turn the key. Spinning back around, I watch her slowly unbutton her coat, her eyes not leaving mine. I am totally immobilised, my brain scrambling to assimilate what's happening in front of me. The final button pops open and the coat glides gracefully to the floor.



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