Shark Week

The room is average, not amazing, not horrifying, just average. The medium sized windows let in a good amount of light, especially considering it's almost sunset. Minimal decorations and furniture are placed traditionally. The room displays nothing unique or original, nor does it even hint at its owner's questionable activities. It differs in one way from a typical teenage boys room. Not one item is out of place. Everything is crisp and clean as if it was taken straight out of a catalogue moments earlier.

The only other abnormality is the you, sitting cross-legged on the otherwise immaculate bed. A laptop is placed right in from of you for optimum viewing pleasure. A tiny timer appears on the screen as it loads your email. Within seconds, the page is fully loaded and displaying three new emails. The first two are boring at best, but the last one catches your eye. It's from a fellow member of the Blue Squares and close friend of yours. You open it, revealing a short message and link to another website.

Hey, guess what? It's the most wonderful time of the year...

A confused expression makes its way onto your face for a brief moment. Did your friend forget that it was August and nowhere near Christmas? Ah well, you always knew she'd lose her mind eventually.

SHARK WEEK!

Shark week? Somewhere in the back of your mind you can remember her mentioning it. You take another look at the screen and see a link.

http://dsc.discovery.com/

You click the link in your email that takes you straight to Discovery.com. A large part of the homepage is covered by a banner reading, Happy Shark Week: Premiers August 1st. Another click takes you to the shark-themed section of the site designed to honor some of the ocean's greatest p...

... middle of paper ...

...this to you. He alone is allowed to touch you anywhere he wants. You would never lower your guard to anyone, never let them get this close, and never allow yourself to enjoy it with anyone else. For once in his life, Aoba is in control--even if you are allowing that control, he still has it. He isn't relying on Mikado to make the right decision or fall for a trick. He isn't trusting that Orihara bastard to do what he's told and he isn't banking on his own brother's stupidity.

He is in complete control.

And he loves it.

He loves everything about it.

The blood, the noise, and the constant movement are exhilarating. Coincidently, those are the top three things that attract sharks. When he finally slides your shirt off and begins taking off his own clothes, the animalistic grin on his face leaves you with only one thought.

Who is the real shark here?