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SAOIRSE
Art and Designclass has always been my favourite elective. Not only am I fascinated by the historical aspect, the styles gracing each period or how each artist has a signature stamp, but I also love the practical side and the escape it gives.
Today, we’re focusing on perception and viewpoint in life drawing, which is twenty-five per cent of our final exam. Usually, I’d be excited to dive right in, losing myself in the strokes of my pencil. But I can’t focus on anything but the blank stare of our class’s model as he tries to avoid eye contact by keeping his eyes trained on the wall behind me.
It’s been four days since Liam kicked me from his bathroom, and he’s barely uttered a word to me since. Not that I blame him, but living in close quarters and sharing most of my classes with him is hard, especially when he won’t acknowledge my existence.
“He’s still pissed at you, huh?” Beibhinn mutters from the seat next to me as my pencil glides across the page, my gaze darting between Liam and the coarse A3 sketch pad.
“Yeah. But, honestly, I deserve it.”
Without lifting her pencil, she peeks at me from the corner of her eye. “Do you, though? It’s not like you guys were dating. Sure, you two have a past, but that doesn’t mean he can swoop back in and pick up where you left off. You were kids back then. He’s changed, as I’m sure you have.”
I glance her way with a sad smile tugging at my lips. “You’re right, but so is Liam. He asked me to stay away from Rohan, and I did the opposite. If I were in his shoes, I’d hate me, too.”
She huffs a humourous breath. “I know my twin, Saoirse. And I assure you he does not hate you as much as he’d like to.” I follow her gaze until it lands on Liam, and my lungs freeze when I find his eyes focused on me. Lost in his appraisal, I’m captivated by the sorrow clouding his storm-grey eyes. The depth of his gaze burns through me as the quip of his lip pulls into a sad smile.
Foolishly, I can’t look away.
I want to tell him I’m sorry for creating this tension between us, but I can’t, not without denying the pull I feel towards Rohan. Stupid as it may seem, both of them make me feel something in totally different ways.
Liam is broad and bulked with muscles, his body a decorated canvas of art and piercings. Then there’s Rohan, tall, toned, and dangerously dishevelled, a chaotic masterpiece from head to toe.
It’s hard to compare them. When I’m with Liam, I feel protected, as though nothing in the world could hurt me. With Rohan, nothing is safe. He’s a skydive, utterly reckless, but the fall is exhilarating.
Calm or chaos. It should be simple, right? Needing the mental space to gather my thoughts, I pull my eyes away. At some point, Liam and I need to clear a few things up, but right now, I don’t see how it’s possible.
Not when I refuse to lie.
Keeping my head down for the rest of the class, I draw him from my memory, only peeking up when I need to see how the light contours the sharp edges of his features. Finally, when the bell rings, I pack up my stuff before telling Beibhinn I’ll meet her at the cafeteria for lunch. Then, slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I keep my head down, avoiding the grey eyes following me out the door.
As my feet carry me down the hallway, I am lost in my thoughts when a large tattooed hand clamps down on my shoulder. “Hold up, free bird.”
Shooting around on the balls of my feet, I spin to face Liam and accidentally collide with his chest. His arms wrap around my waist, keeping me from falling on my arse. My chin tilts up, catching his bright eyes.
“Hey.” It’s unsure, almost awkward, but when he stares back at me with the same expression, my smile widens.
A stutter falls from my lips. “I, eh…” And at the same time, Liam prompts, “I wanted…”
Stepping back, I raise my hand to my face and brush my hair behind my ear. “You go first.”
His hand tugs the strap of his bag as he looks around the bustling hallway. Then, finally, his gaze falls back to me before he grips my hand and pulls me to the side, out of the heavy foot traffic. With my back against the wall, Liam towers over me. His forearm rests against the wall above my head, shielding me from the students rushing past to get to their next class.
His eyes flicker around my face for what feels like forever. Then, finally, he reaches out and lifts my chin with the pad of his finger. “I’m sorry for how I spoke to you the other night. I don’t have any excuse for it. Other than…I was jealous.”
“Liam, I…I’m sorry, too. But, I-I couldn’t lie to you. You deserve better than that.”
“Look, I get it, okay. You’ve obviously got something going on with Rohan, but you're not his. So if there’s even a slight chance you’ll pick me at the finish line, I want in.” His eyes are piercing, punctuating how much he means the words he’s saying. “If you need time to figure some shit out, that’s okay. But please, don’t count me out. Because although the fight between Rohan and me is over, I’m not done fighting for you.”
Those words seep through my chest, squeezing my heart.
“Give me a chance to prove I’m the better option, and I promise you, I won’t fuck it up, free bird.”
Lost for words, I nod my reply, and Liam wastes no time leaning in and claiming my lips with his own.
Unlike the last time, this kiss doesn’t start slow. Instead, he’s all in, making me a prisoner to each stroke of his tongue, stealing the breath from my lungs before breathing life back into me. His hands settle on my hip, drawing me closer until I’m pressing against his chest with his arm wrapped around me, holding me steady.
It’s all-consuming, and for a moment, I forget we are standing in a packed hallway with a hundred eyes passing by.
