The Bane of Light

Dates

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Paris and I wove through the streets of Bellhadone, the local town nearest to our school. It was a the only village on the island, established for easy access to materials, shall the need arise. It was small, with an even smaller population of residents. Nearly all the students were in town during weekends, seeing that they lived too far from home to commute back regularly. If we wanted to be seen, this was the best place to do it.

The cozy village was old. Nearly as old as the school itself, with rounded cobble-stone flooring and ancient, stone architecture. There were various shops and urban centers where students lounged around during our free time. I could hardly understand what attracted them to this glorified village, with absolutely nothing to do here. My foot caught on one of the uneven stones, and I nearly tripped forward, had it not been for Paris' hold on my waist.

I clenched my jaw, but said nothing about the hand slithered around my waist. We had agreed on our terms, on the touches that were allowed and were not allowed. He was not allowed to kiss me on the mouth or near my face. Hand kisses were also prohibited. He was not allowed to grab my hand, but could hold it in front of an audience if the circumstances deemed it necessary. I guess he considered holding my waist as we walked, apart of the agreement. He couldn't really put his arm around my shoulders, seeing our outrageous height difference, so the waist was the next best thing.

He had offered to hold hand in my back pocket, but I nearly smacked him at the offer. It had reminded me of the hand he had placed on my rear end in Rowenas office. He swore profusely up and down the street, that he had not meant to touch me like that, instead trying to slip his hand in my back pocket in tug me towards him in a very "couple-like" manner. He claimed it would have looked a lot more romantic then dragging me back by the hair or arm. I didn't believe him. The suspicion that he was a closeted pervert, did not leave my gut feeling. I've practically known it since the day I've met him.

Paris opened the door to a popular cafe in town, a gust of warm air eloping us. There were many students in the cafe, chattering avidly over cups of warm cocoa and coffee. Urban, wooden decoration filled the cafe, the warm lighting washing the room in coziness. Heads turned towards Paris and I upon our entrance. The noise died down instantly, yet Paris barged right ahead, dragging me with him. He nudged me forward, walking behind me as he steered me through the crowd. His arm remained around my waist.

"You would think they've never seen a couple before" whispered in my ear, leaning down. The hot air brushed my exposed neck, and sent shivers down my arms.  I donned a fake smile, laughing as if he had just told me a joke.

"I will end everyone in this room and then myself if they don't stop staring at me" I told him, beaming up at Paris warmly. His smile wavered and a disturbed expression momentarily flitted onto his face. He quickly replaced his smile though, this time with one less bright.

"That's nice" he said under his breath. Unwinding his arm from my waist, he instead placed a hand on my lower back. I inhaled, holding for ten, before slowly exhaling. I wanted to dig my nails into the skin of his wrist, and pry his hand off of me. I did none of that of course, walking mutely to our table. If this were a real date, I would have chosen one of the secluded booths in the back.

Instead, Paris directed us towards a table in the front of the cafe, directly infront of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. We were in sight of everyone from the street and from the inside. My chair faced the windows and away from the rest of the tables, and it made my insides prickle with discomfort. Everybody could see me. There was no where to hide.