As I pass the clock and see the glowing seven on the display, I realise I slept the entire day away. It had barely been ten in the morning when he carried me out of that classroom.
Then again, I had been exhausted. The past week had drained me completely. I hadn’t properly slept in days, too afraid to close my eyes for long, and the healing process can’t exactly help.
My body has worked overtime ever since.
I round the corner, and the moment he hears me, his head lifts.
Our eyes meet.
And before I can say anything, before I can even take another step, he is already in front of me.
His hands come up to cup my face.
His eyes search mine, as if he’s trying to find answers I’m not prepared to give.
For a moment, I think the questions are coming, and a knot forms in my stomach.
But they never do.
Instead, he steers me back towards the living room and the sofa.
I sit, and a second later he drapes a blanket over my legs.
He remains there for a moment, his attention fixed on me, before he turns and heads back into the kitchen.
“Dinner’s ready.”
He plates the food and brings it over, handing one plate across before taking the seat beside me.
“Thank you,” I say.
I shouldn’t be here.
I should have left as soon as I woke up.
God, I shouldn’t even have let him carry me out of that classroom.
People must have seen and…
I push the thought away before it can go any further.
I’ll deal with it later, when I’m back in my own room and can fall apart in private. Then I can cry if I want to, drown in the guilt that always seems to follow whenever I let Hunter get too close.
“Eat,” he says.
I pick up the fork and take a bite.
It’s delicious.
Unfortunately, my body seems to disagree.
I force down another mouthful.
Then a third.
By then, my stomach has had enough. I barely manage to keep everything down.
I can feel his eyes on me from the side, and it’s obvious he notices because before I can say anything, he takes the plate from my hands and sets it aside without a word.
