25 | Crossing the line

17 2 3
                                    


UNEDITED

Why why why why why did I ask him that?

Was I stupid ? Yeah I was stupid.

Alan's posture stiffened, his emerald green eyes widening slightly as he processed the question.

And then he said something I had never thought would be the answer to my question.

Another question.

"What do you think?"

What do I think? What the bloody hell do you think I think?

Of course, I resisted the urge to say it out loud, instead preferring to silently stare at him and try to comprehend his thought process. Which I wasn't successful in doing. I would have loved mind reading powers right then and there.

Mortality and its disadvantages.

"I -uh," was my attempt at an answer.

"Hey, I asked you a question first," I reminded him, evading the question in the process.

And then it happened.

His lips curved upwards, forming the expression one would define as a smile. His eyes slightly twinkled with mirth, and for once, there wasn't a hint of his usual mischeviousness. It was how he smiled when he was playing the piano five years ago. Alan Leuwenhook was genuinely smiling at me.

When was the last time I saw that?

I checked, but there didn't seem to be any pigs flying. Then again, we were indoors.

While I was dumbfounded at his expression, he said something. Which happened to be at the same time as the end of the performance, followed by the sound of the crowd applauding.

Thousands of claps resonated throughout the auditorium, and I could only watch as Alan's lips moved to form words I couldn't hear.

I knew I should've learnt to lip read after watching detective movies.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

"I'm not saying it again."

"Why not?" I groaned, cursing my luck.

Did the performance have to finish at the specific moment?

"I don't like repeating myself, hero."

"Come on, I couldn't hear because of all the noise."

"I'm still not repeating it."

No matter how much I wanted to hear what he said, he wouldn't budge from his decision of not repeating it.



~~~~



"Uuuuuuugh," I groaned, carrying another box of props to the dance class.

"Stop grumbling, we're almost done." Alan appeared from the doorway of the dance class, a notebook in hand.

A red notebook with flower patterns. A very familiar notebook.

"Wait a minute, Ally, is that my notebook? Wait, why do you have it?"

"I was about to tell you." He picked up the box from my hands and placed it on the chair.

"Go ahead then."

"Your teacher said you left it in class and gave it to Jane so she could give it back to you." He glared at Jane who was dancing oblivious to the malice and handed it to me. "She just gave it to me."

A Thousand LiesWhere stories live. Discover now