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ROHAN
IgnoringRohan’s presence is proving to be rather tricky, especially when I can’t steady the rapid thumping of my heart as it assaults my rib cage, nor can I ease the way my skin tingles under his watchful gaze.
My shoulders rise with short, shallow breaths as I keep my eyes trained on Mr Lynch as he rambles on about our Shakespearean set work for our final exams.
“Othello is a tale of sweet vengeance, led by deceit, jealousy, and lies. Othello is an eloquent, powerful figure, respected by all those around him. But, despite his elevated status, he is easy prey. He is a victim of his insecurities, which leaves him vulnerable, especially regarding the love he had for his wife. For homework this week, I would like you all to choose your favourite quote from the text and write a fifteen-hundred-word essay on why you chose it.”
A collective grumble breaks out amongst my peers, but Rohan’s low drawl breaks through the noise.
“She loved me for the dangers I had passed, And I loved her that she did pity them.Act 1, scene 3.”
His words are not for anyone but me, but what meaning is he placing on them?
My head turns with a snap of my neck, eyes landing on his, my unspoken question shining from their depths. Suddenly, the bell rings, shattering the silence controlling our impenetrable stare-off. Then, without tearing his eyes from mine, he rises from his chair, swipes his books from the desk and flees the room, leaving me motionless and confused.
Finally, I pack up my books, reach into my pocket and pluck out my phone.
GROUP CHAT:Liam and Beibhinn.
Me:Hey, I’m just leaving room P14. Are we still meeting in the common room for our small break?
L:I’ll be there in 10.
B:Yup! I’m already here. Move that arse.
Me:Give me 5! If I don’t show up, I got lost trying to navigate this stupid colour coding. Lol!
B:Walk straight until you get to the stairwell, down one flight, and I’ll meet you at the bottom.
Me:Sounds good. OMW!
Placing my phone back in my pocket, I start moving.
I’m halfway down the corridor when a side door opens and someone grabs my elbow and rips me inside. Another hand covers my mouth, silencing my scream. I blink, my eyes narrowing as they try to adjust to the dim lighting of what seems to be a janitor's closet. Suddenly, Rohan’s unique scent fills my nose, and my breath hitches once more.
“If I remove my hand, promise me you won’t scream.”
I remain still, but I can feel the thumping of his heart against my back. Finally, when I realise he won’t release me until I comply, I nod.
Once his hand drops from my mouth, I whisper-yell, “What the fuck are you doing?”then pull my elbow from his grip, turning to face him. “Are you insane?”
“Perspective.”
“You say that a lot, but I’m yet to understand what you mean by it.”
He creeps forward, forcing me to ease back until my spine greets the metal shelving behind me. My chest rises then falls, over and over as I fight to fill my lungs. His presence unnerves me, and I unravel at the seams. I hold his gaze, mesmerised by the countless shades in his eyes. They remind me of a forest on a rainy day, a blend of greens, golden browns, and rustic oranges, intensified with the coating of heavy rainfall. Suddenly, as though thunderclouds roll in, the kaleidoscope of colours darkens, and I become consumed by the shadows that steal the light from his eyes.
He glides closer, moulding his chest against mine. “You want to know what it means?”
My throat clogs, then trailing my tongue along the roof of my mouth, I swallow my reply with a nod.
His head bows, lowering to my ear. His warm breath caresses my neck, sending a flurry of desire through my body until finally, it explodes, dampening the sweet spot between my thighs.
I shouldn’t feel like this, dazed by desire and rattled by anticipation.
“Perception is a gift most people lack, Saoirse,” he whispers. “But when we change the way we look at things” — his hand reaches up, brushing the hair off my shoulders, exposing my neck — “the things we look at change.”
His lips trail over my pulse, leaving just a whisper of a kiss. “I told you beforeall is never as it seems,only those who choose to look—” His left hand crosses my chest, gripping my shoulder and spinning me in place. Suddenly, I’m facing the shelving, and my arms rush out in front of me, stopping my body from colliding with the steel frame. His head is hovering over my shoulder. Then, in the next breath, he whispers the rest of his response in my ear. “—will find the truth behind the lies.”
