A Runaway Mate

Chapter Twelve. ✓

Rebel's Point of View.

   Finn looked deeply into my eyes, as if he was staring right into my very soul. 

   The slight movement of him leaning in was caught out of my peripheral vision. And suddenly, my throat became dry, my hands became slick with a nervous sweat. My tongue darted out of my mouth, in hopes of relieving the dryness that consumed my lips. Finn’s eyes locked onto the simple action.

   He came close. So close his breath fanned over my face, smelling of cotton candy and other sweets. His nose brushed mine, his skin feeling as if it were on fire. He contrasted so greatly with the cold night air. 

   A jolt was sent down my spine as Finn’s warm lips softy brushed my own. But then, the ride jerked forward, knocking our foreheads together.

   Throbbing resonated from the spot and my eyes squeezed shut. Finn took a sharp inhale of breath, his eyes closing, too. My hand reached up to grab hold of my head. 

   “Sorry,” Finn moaned out. 

   The rest of the ride was silent, both of us sitting in pain and holding our foreheads. Neither one of us thought about bringing up the almost-kiss. 

   Finn said something about the night getting late when we exited the ferris wheel. We held hands, until Finn stopped and said he had to go to the restroom.

   I sighed impatiently. “I told you not to drink all that soda,” I said, referring to the lunch we ate earlier. 

   He rolled his eyes, but a smile twitched at his lips. 

   As he ran off, I sat on the counter of a closed game booth, crossing my legs. I was examining my dull nails when loud, obnoxious voices made me slightly jump. Looking up, three boys were staggering around. One looked over to me, and I quickly looked away, not wanting to start anything. But he saw my gaze and told his friends. 

   “Hey, baby,” the one that saw me slurred. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks flushed. 

   They were drunk. 

   “What’s a cutie like you doin’ here by yourself?” another one of the boys asked. His black hair looked greasy and unclean. His clothes hung off of him, a metal necklace around his neck. 

   I leaned away from them as the strong smell of alcohol hit me, stinging my nose. “I’m not here by myself. My boyfriend is using the bathroom.”

   The one with dyed red hair laughed like he heard a funny joke. “Ya know, I think she’s lyin’ to us.”

   They all laughed, taking stumbling steps towards me. My body tensed, my spine going rigid. My fist balled. 

   The three of them came closer, one reaching his hand out for me, when a dark figure stepped in their path. His smell seemed to calm my frayed nerves, his body heat flowing off of him and onto my cold skin. Unconsciously, I breathed a sigh of relief. 

   Finn grabbed the black haired boy by his shirt, effortlessly lifting him off the ground. He brought his chiseled face closer to the boy’s, his jaw locking with anger. 

   “When a girl says she has a boyfriend, I suggest you listen to her,” Finn snarled. With little strength, Finn dropped the boy to the ground. 

   The black haired boy scurried away, his friends--with wide eyes--followed suit. Finn turned around, his eyes filled with worry as he skimmed them over my body.