The Scars She Hides

Part 6 - It Would Be Easy

CHARLOTTE

Notes and notes and notes

And notes

And

Notes

That was all my mind could focus on.

I had yet to find another disturbing reminder of my past in the week since the white board, but that didn't stop me from looking. Every night I barricaded myself in my room, and struggled to stay awake, terrified I would miss someone sneaking in the window. Someone finding me asleep and vulnerable. Every morning I put my furniture back right, and left for school, praying that I would return and everything would be in the place I left it. With no new notes from my mystery stalker.

Sleeping was a distant and foreign thing at this point, and the bags under my eyes were so prominent and dark that I could probably star in any of Tim Burton's wonderful but disturbing little cartoon films.

On that note, I was also on a first name basis with all of the baristas on campus.

To apologize for once again being late to our "tutoring sessions" I had bought Holden a caramel coffee, which, he will will never admit he actually likes. If you can get past all of the mumbling and arguing that he quote unquote "Hates that girly frap shit." You find out that grumpy boy actually has a sweet tooth.

Upon entering the workshop, I proceeded to place his coffee on his normal work table, and settled myself in my corner of the room. He made no comment on my tardiness, or the cup. He simply reached for it, accepting my apology drink, and that was that. We were pushing through the brainstorming phase and trying to work out a rough draft before fall break in a week and a half.

While Holden worked on writing his first draft, I decided to rest for a moment. My homework could wait 5 minutes, and Holden didn't need my help right away. I rested my chin in my hand, and let my mind wander a bit. Listening to Holden type away on his laptop was calming. The quiet rhythm of the keys coaxed my eyes closed.

Holden was different from what I had assumed at first.

On the outside, he seemed like a rough guy. He was all moody and dark, tattoos and menacing eyebrows. At first glance it was easy to write him off as trouble. Sure he had taken me to the nurses office after my accident in the quad, but what decent human being wouldn't have? That was what I tried to argue at first. But he had also agreed to fake tutor me. He had even gone a step further and given me an out for the entire semester. Albeit that he was getting something out of the arrangement as well... But still.

I could hear Holden hitting the backspace key on the computer aggressively, obviously getting frustrated with himself.

My lips twitched of their own accord, amused.

Holden was all bark and no bite. He pretended to be hard and unaffected, but I saw the softer side of him slipping through the cracks more often than he realized. Always fussing in his own grumbly way about what I was eating, telling me I wasn't drinking enough water, that I wasn't taking care of myself. Driving me home every night, and waiting until I was inside to leave on that scary black bike of his.

For someone who put on a rough and bad boy-esque show, he was pretty charming, in his own grumpy kind of way.

It took me a while to understand that his concern came out in the form of anger more often than not. My experiences with Henry in the past had made me cautious around strangers, men in particular. So Holden's anger and general... prickliness had frightened me at first.

My lips lifted into a soft smile, slipping through the sleepy haze I was under.

My brain wandered farther, falling deeper into a doze than I realised.

My head jerked forward, and I barely caught myself, righting my chin in my hand instantly, trying to hold onto the few seconds of sleep that had found me. I heard Holden's keys stop clicking, heard his chair gently scrape the floor as he got up. I was too far cushioned in a dreamlike state to care, enjoying the rare peace that had come over me.

I heard a soft sound, Holden crouching down near my chair, his clothes rustling softly.

Soft words whispered, softer than I ever thought he would be capable of. I made a sound of agreement, wanting to hear more of his voice like this.

I felt his hands gently pull my head from my palm and lower it to the desk. I nuzzled into Holden's hand, trapped between my head and my own arm laying on the desktop. His hands were rough, covered in calluses from his workshop, no doubs. Rough... but gentle.

Holden wasn't so bad. Maybe he could even be good. He seems to be good to me, or tried to at least, my dreamy thoughts concluded.

I think it would be easy to love him.

I nodded to myself in agreement, and finally drifted off to sleep.