The Girl At The Last

Chapter 63

Elaine

He doesn't, he refuses to move away his hands from the waist, Instead it falls low, dangerously to the curve of my lower back.. Pulling me closer to him as I blinked not able to fathom such action from him in spite of the place we were in.

"Why?" is the one word he utters, they weren't sturdy or strong, instead they were dark and possessive. The smile now replaced by a look of vicious authority. Like the Alex who kept the lightheartedness up till now was just for the sake to fooling me, for simpleton, morons.

"What are you doing?" I hiss, gritting my teeth.

"Something that I should've done long ago" His other hand joins at the back, as he hugs me closer. The hesitation in my orbs should've shone clearly as he smirks. "Stopping you from escaping me"

I inhale in his minty scent as he depresses his head lower to the side, his cold breath teasing against the skin of my neck, a heat so high we might as well impersonate a public sauna.

And then I felt his lips ever so lightly brush across my cheeks, before he firmly kisses them.

Tears pricked my eyes as I heard gasps from around, there was nothing innocent about him, his kiss or the atmosphere.

Without a second thought I shoved him, running out as fast as my feet could carry me.

From those eyes, from him.

The night kept replying in my head like a broken recorder. When morning came I was ready to quit so many things at once, but I couldn't. My pride won't let me. So I went to my first class.

I lived. He wasn't there.

The second.

The same.

And. So on.

But guess who took his place instead and miraculously turned out to be my new partner for the semester's upcoming joint learning?

April freaking Beckett. Real surprise there.

In a day with her I made sure she felt the radiation of my ignorance every second that I managed to ignore her. She was at ease, probably because she expected it in a way. Ignorance is a bliss, but curiosity is a bitch.

Excuse my language, but the stinging pain and thirst to know what their motives are made me antsy. But for once I maintained my primitive stage of curiosity, and dealt it with decency.

They worked for him.

I am just paranoid.

Why the hell are they here?

Was he in danger again?

That's the cycle of questions I buried so that my day went like every other day, without drama.

But who was I kidding again?

By the last class, The one class were I was sufficiently assured of April's absence, a class which always took my breath away, quite literally, felt like a heaven for once.

That is until I managed to screw it up as well.

The hem of my uniform skirt endured all forms of nervous fondling while I sat on a bleacher, the gym clothes neatly sat inside my bag. I surveyed as the other students played, refusing to look down were Edmund now had my ankle balanced upon his knee as he inspected it.

I close my eyes shrieking, hissing in pain when he moved it gently, but even in such fashion the jolts of stings coarse even at the slightest of moments.