Fated to Break | ✓

e i g h t

The whispers get snuffed out and she smiles sadistically. She opens the folder, flipping through the pages as she says, "The prompt is: Love is.... You must write a story based on that. Interpret it in your own way and build your characters how you see fit. Make it about yourself I don't care but...make it good."

A student in the front row shoots their hand into the air, the professor nodding for them to ask their question. The boy smirks, "What's the catch?"

Our benevolent professor smiles wickedly, lifting the folder up and scans her eyes through the room. "This will be a collaborative project."

Groans of protest and disapproval spark from the crowd and the professor whistles, "I know this will be hard for you all, given that most writing and literary students are introverted by nature and love to work alone but....the real world is full of unfairness."

Jess nudges me in the side and wiggles her brows when I look at her, "Maybe we can partner up."

"Don't start thinking about partnering with your friends, it's not that kind of collaboration," The professor interrupts. Jess clicks her tongue and I smile at her with regret.

The professor pulls out a sheet and points at it, "You will be partnering with the art department. A randomized list will be made by next week's class where I will announce your selected partner. Then you and your partner will work together to compile a visual as well as a literary representation of your interpretation of Love is.... It's hard to agree and see eye to eye when it comes to creative projects such as these. So....I expect you all to respect the pairings and not throw fits about the choices. Like I said, it's completely random. This isn't a matchmaking opportunity so don't get disappointed when you aren't paired with your preference of gender. There will be zero excuses for not finishing your work. Unless it is seen as an acceptable reason by me and the art department's professor you will get a zero."

After she laid it all out on the table and handed out packets with instructions and rules on the project, class ended. Most walked out of the building with their heads hanging low, pissed about the thought of having to decide on what to write about having to be influenced by an art major. We just want to do what we want without having to compromise.

I just want to go home. My body aches and my joints creak with every move. I haven't been sleeping well since the party last week.

I press the key fob to my car, the lights flashing as it unlocks. I walk around to the driver door and just as my hand touches the handle the deep sultry voice that has been haunting my dreams calls out from behind me, "Hey Ollie. Done with classes today?"

I clench my fist and take a deep breath. Just....don't think about it.

I turn, a wide smile in my face, "Hey Rowan!"

He's closer than I thought and I almost choke on my own tongue. I look up at him, my stomach in my throat, "Y-Yeah I'm all done for today. What about you?"

He lifts his arm to flick his eye length messy black hair away from his face and the way his muscles shift brings a flash of that night to the surface. Fuck.

I try to focus on his face as he chuckles, "I'm done as well but I have to meet with a professor then I'll probably grab some food."

I nod, watching his lips as he spoke. They still, resting into a neutral smile. Oh, he's done talking.

"T-That's a good idea. I like food," I stutter, raging at myself in my head. God, I'm embarrassing.