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I rolled my eyes. "You have to skip now!"
She looked concerned. "What if I get expelled?"
"Expelled? Seriously, Skye? You're worrying too much. You won't get expelled as long as I'm by your side," I assured her, my words flowing smoothly. She sounded foolish simultaneously because I recognized those things weren't going to occur.
My voice had a promise in it that made her finally look up at me. She was always so shy, but I knew she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. She stood up, nervously clutching her backpack. "Are you done talking? I really need to get to class now..."
I pretended to pout. "Well, I wanted to talk for another hour..."
She sighed. "I can't now. I have an important class to attend."
"Come on, it's just history. So boring!"
"Says the guy who aced it last year!" she shot back.
I shrugged. "I only aced it because I had to..."
She shook her head, unimpressed. "Well, I don't care. I'm going to class. I hope you don't bother me there too!"
I smirked. "I will if I want to."
As she turned to leave, a tremor ran through her, a flicker of doubt momentarily eclipsing the defiance in her eyes. It was a subtle shift, barely noticeable, but my mind, honed to anticipate her every move, caught it. She paused, like a butterfly considering its next flight path, and the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken.
"Oh, and Dax," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "after the football match, I think… I think we should stop talking." The suggestion hung in the air, a fragile balloon tethered to a question mark.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a drumbeat keeping time with the storm brewing within me. Though the answer gnawed at the edges of my awareness, I feigned surprise, playing along with her charade. "Why?" My voice was a raspy echo, the words tasting foreign on my tongue.
"It's the… attention," she murmured, her gaze flitting to the dusty floorboards. A cliché, perhaps, but the vulnerability in her voice resonated within me. I knew the sting of unwanted attention, the burden of being seen, felt, dissected. This introverted bookworm, lost in the labyrinthine world of her novels, was a stranger to the spotlight.
"But I like it," I confessed, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. The truth, raw and unexpected, surprised even me. The way her eyes widened, the way her breath caught in her throat, it was a delicious shock to my system.
"That's because… you're already used to it," she explained, her voice gaining strength. "And I'm not. I just want to be… the girl with the big glasses, the one everyone knows but doesn't see."
Her words, laced with a quiet desperation, struck a chord deep within me. I rose from my chair, drawn to her like a moth to a flame.
We stood face-to-face, the air crackling with unspoken currents. Her eyes, usually shielded by a wall of indifference, were now naked and exposed, pleading for understanding.
"What are you suggesting then?" I asked, my voice hoarse with a mix of curiosity and something else, something I couldn't quite define. The game, the power struggle, all faded into the background. This, this was something new, something raw and intoxicating.
She took a step back, a hesitant retreat, yet her voice held a newfound resolve. "Let's… let's just be strangers again. After the game, we pretend I never came here, that you never saw me without my armor."
The proposition was simple, yet it felt like a loaded gun aimed at the heart of the fragile connection we'd forged. Was this the end, the final curtain on a play I hadn't even realized I was writing? Or was it just another act, a twist in the plot that would leave me breathless and wanting more?
I tried to hide the smirk that threatened to form on my lips. "That is something I can't promise you, Skye."
Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Why? Is it too hard for you to just avoid me for once?"
"No, I can't avoid you, and I can't go a day without talking to you," I whispered, my voice barely holding back the surge of emotions threatening to spill.
"You're so peculiar, Dax. Do you not realize that my life is already in shambles? First, the unexpected kiss in the club, and now... this. It's like every time I see you, my life spirals further into chaos," Skye burst out, her confession laced with raw vulnerability that struck a chord within me.
"But I liked the kiss...!" I couldn't help but blurt out, a sly smile tugging at the corner of my lips. Expectantly, I nibbled on the bottom part of my lip, hoping she would take notice and give in to the undeniable chemistry between us.
Her startled response took me aback. "I didn't!" she exclaimed vehemently, her voice laced with a hint of defiance.
A knowing smirk played on my face as I leaned in closer, determined to unravel the truth. "Oh yes you did," I countered, a slight edge to my tone. "You can't fool me with that act. Admit it, deep down, you reveled in that stolen moment just as much as I did."
My deliberate action, slowly licking my lips, seemed to have an intriguing effect on her. Her eyes lingered on them momentarily, seemingly captivated, as if she had been transported to another realm where our connection defied all logic.
