Friendships and love stories that happen at a university. Everything very intense, very sweet. An overprotective brother of a princess in a tower. Frederick Treves and John Merrick in scene.
Warning: Sensitive content. Some chapters will contain spe...
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Four weeks later...
"And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding
There are many things that I'd
Like to say to you
But I don't know how...
Because maybe
You're gonna be the one that saves me
And after all
You're my wonderwall"
Saoirse nearly crumpled the letter, screaming. She had been holding the piece of paper when David looked over her shoulder, again.
"Why, Mr. Merrick is lowering his standards. A Shakespeare major, like you point out all the time, sending you Oasis."
"Let's go, David," said Treves, joining them. "I'm in a hurry."
David found Treves's behavior very unusual.
"Well, I'm not," said David. "We have no classes now."
"Help me study. Come on," insisted Treves.
"Our areas are completely different," stated David.
"But ours aren't," said Saoirse, staring at John, who flushed. "We are Literature majors. Except he's a Shakespeare one."
David saw the strange interaction. He didn't want her sister to suffer anymore. Did John have to try and rekindle whatever he thought there had been between them?
"Let's go, John." she pushed him away from both guys.
John decided to keep quiet and comply. It wasn't always life was that good.
Her room was so... full of posters and books. Books, of course, she was a Lit Major. Wait. It was all freaking Chick Lit. He shook his head, full of prejudice. But it was all very organized. She took off her shrug and he could see the hideous scars healing on her forearms.
"I know. It's disturbing," she gave a small smile.
"No, please. I didn't mean to stare. No more disturbing than my appearance."
"Let's not compare issues. You were born this way. Mine were self-inflicted."
"Yes. But it's understandable."
"Stop making excuses for me! If you wanna take me to bed, just say it!"
He was shocked.
"Saoirse..." he grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. "If course I do want to... want to... ahem, make love to you. But I know I'm not normal, I'm a monster and after what happened to you..."
"Do not bring this up! And what's 'normal'? My definition of monster is entirely different."
He was glowing.
"Then, I have a chance?"
She swallowed hard.
"You've always had. I mean, you're a Shakespeare major!"
He touched her face.
"Why is this so important to you? And your brother?"
"Because... Well, I tell that to my brother all the time. I don't understand his work. I mean, Shakespeare's. And neither does my brother, probably. "
He gave a little laugh.
"I see. There is a lot of Nora Roberts here. Colleen Gleason. J. R. Ward. I'm trying not to judge."
"At least I can keep up with the course!"
He touched her fresh scars very lightly and her breath caught. She felt as if an electric current was going through her.
"Sorry." he said.
"No, I liked it." she smiled.
Then, he looked at the bed.
"Saoirse, are you sure-"
"I told you I don't want to talk about that. Make me forget." she took off her t-shirt and he almost had a heart attack.
"Sorry, I-I can't."
"Wait. You're leaving?"
"You're too perfect, Saoirse. I'm sorry, it would be desecrating."
Then, she slapped him.
John seemed to have awoken.
"If you go now, you'll never see me again. Never! You coward."
