Subject Me To Life [Book One] ✔️ *EDITING*

Chapter Twenty

*Somewhat edited* Not proofread*

Chapter 20— I can't hear you:

What the fuck is this?

"This is where you want to tutor me? In the middle of the fucking woods?" I growl, spinning around on my heel as I survey my surroundings carefully. Trees, trees, bush, dirt, trees, trees, bird, trees, squirrel.

Fucking amazing.

Dakota has a small smile on his lips as he continues to listen to me insult his crap idea to tutor me in literally the middle of fucking nowhere. I doubt I even receive cell service out here.

"You done?" He wonders after my shouting has turned into quiet mumbling under my breath. I glare at him as he stands in front of me with his arms folded, his hands holding onto his toned biceps.

"No, no I'm not fucking done, Dakota. Where the fuck do you expect me to sit? On a fucking tree branch? Perhaps you would like me to swing upside down while I'm at it, too," I bite.

"Look up."

I furrow my eyebrows, my anger turning into confusion. "The fuck did you just say?"

He chuckles and jolts his head upwards. "Look up," he repeats. My head shoots up at his instruction and I just about keep my jaw from falling to the dirt ground beneath my feet.

"How the fuck did you get a house in a fucking tree?" Is my response to the small, cabin-like building in the large tree above me, the branches strong and thick as they hold the weight of the wooden construction. "Did you do that?" I ask as I look back at the blonde boy who seems to be already staring at me.

"Yeah," he nods his head, clearing his throat awkwardly as he looks back at the house above us. "Come on," he urges me with him as he makes his way around the other side of the thick trunk. "You'll like it," he promises as he climbs up. There are no ladders like one would have expected, but by the way the branches are positioned, we're able to scale up easily.

There's no door on the small little house, just an open frame where it look like one should be. Using the thick branch I'm standing on, I jump slightly and lean my body weight onto my arms and push myself inside the house. Dakota's already inside and up on his feet, his arms folded across his chest like they always are.

He looks at me expectantly as I stand, almost as if he's waiting for my approval of the makeshift space. I stare back for a few moments before I tear my eyes away from his blue ones and peer around the room.

There's a mattress pressed against the middle of the wall opposite the opening covered with mismatched blankets and pillows, along with two large beanbags on either side creasing away in the corners. On the wall to my left resides a wooden table which looks like it was salvaged from the trash, and two different chairs tucked underneath it, both splintering; each have a different colour cushion perched on top.

It's cosy inside, warm almost. The leaves surrounding the outside of the hut block out most of the wind from getting inside, and there's only one entryway and one small gap which I assume is meant to be the window to my right. The rug that rests on the floor helps keep some of the warmth inside the compact space as well, and once Dakota moves the plank of wood in front of the frame where we had climbed in through, it's even cosier.