Lacking Conviction (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 12: Magic is real?

Song Suggestion: New person, same old mistakes - Tame Impala

Note:- Unedited

*****

He smiles darkly, "Good." he let go of my arm, allowing me to pack up. I did it faster than usual, my hands tense as he watched me, turning on his heel once I was done, expecting me to follow.

And I did.

Or so he thought.

As soon as we got out the classroom I slowed down my pace as he carried on marching ahead of me, believing I would continue to follow.

Rookie mistake.

I side step into one of the empty classrooms to my right, fumbling to shut the door quietly and fast enough, sliding down so I was in a crouch.

I let out a quiet nervous giggle, feeling high, my heartbeat slamming into my chest repeatedly. Why I feel as though I've gotten away with a bank robbery or some high profile heist, rather than for what it was, an awkward shuffle, will forever be a mystery.

Regardless of that, I feel almost giddy. Extremely relieved that I don't have to sit through a couple of hours of torture with satan himself, and the fact that I outsmarted him.

A sudden obnoxious cough shocked me.

Was it mine? Did I cough? I don't think I have a cold. I hope not anyway, especially because I'm going out this Friday and I'd hate to-

"Can I help you young man?"

A rugged man, with a scratchy beard, holding a mop and dunking it into the bucket to get the excessive murky water out, asks me questioningly, with raised eyebrows. He must be the janitor, I presume.

"No thanks, go back to what you were doing." I say dismissively, and when he doesn't move or respond, I speak again "By all means don't let me stop you." I plaster on a faux innocent smile, not moving from my awkward position on the floor.

He frowns and looks at my feet, "Is there any reason you're crouching on this newly cleaned floor with your muddy shoes?"

I shrug, "Maybe it was the floor that got my shoes muddy. Not the other way around." He looks at me unimpressed.

Christ, what is his probl-

Out of nowhere, the door shoves open, pushing me over, making me sprawl on the ground like an absolute idiot.

Holy shit this janitor has powers. This janitor has powers. Magic is real, and I knew it all along. Me. Who would have thought. In your face, to everyone who ever judged my magic phase! Who's laughing now?

Before I make a sound, a large rough hand grips my nape, making me emit a little noise of discomfort mixed with surprise. I try turning my head to see who it is, but the hand won't budge, leaving my face squished into the floor. I try again and I am met with resistance, the angled tip of my nose pressed firmly into the ground.

At least it smells nice.

"Who-?" My sentence was cut off by a deep voice, layered with irritation. The guy scoffs, "Found you..." Grayson drawls out in a sing song voice, not too bothered in the slightest.

Maybe magic isn't real after all, otherwise I could have used it to teleport the fuck out of here.

Pity.

"Oh heyyy Grayson. I uh think I might have gotten a bit lost?" I greet him, smiling kindly even though he can't see my face properly.

He yanks me up by my arm, his heavy hand on my nape, feeling it tighten every time I try to move my head to look at him. I don't think I want to anyways, but because I'm worried about his reaction but because he is gross to look at.

"Is that the excuse you're sticking with? You have another chance to come up with a better one if you'd like." He mocks from behind me, and although he looks amused I detect the faintest undertone of warning in his voice, making me let out a nervous breathy laugh and squirm in his grip.

He roughly turns my face to his, and I gape up at him at the pressure on my neck. He's still aware of the janitors eyes on us and he shoots him a charming smile his way.

"Sorry about the floor, I'm sure he'll make it up to you." Grayson nods his head apologetically and the janitor gives a clipped nod, before returning to do his job.

"It's not an excuse. It's the truth!" I scramble as Grayson hauls me out of the classroom fiercely.

His jaw is set and he stares straight ahead, and although to anyone else he looks like he doesn't care in the slightest, I see the slight tick in the muscle of his jaw.

I stumble across the floor, his grip like a vice. My shoes squeak on the floor as I struggle to slow him down, the worn out grips doing nothing for me.

"Where are we going?" I prod carefully, feeling a bit nervous as he walks me out the doors of the school and to the car park.

I'm met with silence.

Maybe he didn't hear me? "Grayson?" I ask more firmly, and I'm met with even more silence. He unlocks his car and opens the door to the front passenger seat. Even his car is clean and neatly kept, the interior looking barely used but I know he uses it regularly. The seats are a matte black, the colour matching the glossy black exterior of the car.

He even has cup holders. I'd love to relish in the fact that he has cup holders more, truly, but I'm overcome with nervous anticipation on what's going to happen next.

Grayson pushes me in with the heavy hand on my neck, and with his other hand he rests it on the top, so that my head doesn't bump into it as I am getting in. He lets go of me once I'm seated and leans over, plugging my belt into place. I go to protest but he turns to me, his breath fanning my cheek, and I close my mouth.

I rub my neck, as though trying to rub off the feeling of his punishing grip from my memory.

Grayson shuts the door with a click, making sure to take extra care with the car, and he walks over to the drivers seat, getting in. He turns the engine on, the low rumble sending soothing vibrations from underneath me. Once's he's seat-belted in, only then does he turn to me, a small smile dancing on his lips.

That scares me way more than any glare he usually throws my way could, and I shift a little in my seat.

"We're going to my house." He smiles innocently, not reassuring me in the slightest, then driving out of the car park.

Crap...