Behind the Walls. NOVEL By Claire Darcy.

21. A Painful Contrast.

Ace leapt to her feet and raced up the stairs, bursting through the door onto level 8 and rushing towards her room, laughing. Rowan chased after her, but she slammed the door in his face, locking it.

Rowan leant on the door and knocked slowly, preparing his argument.

"Ace, you can't do that. Nobody says 'I told you so' to me and gets away with it. Now come out here and let's settle this."

"Um... I don't think so. Besides, I did tell you so. I said you'd thank me later, and voila! It's later, and you're thanking me..." she said, a hint of her attitude seeping through her words.

"Whatever, fine then. You win," Rowan said sharply.

There was silence from Ace for a few seconds, before she asked in disbelief, "Do my ears deceive me? Is it true that Rowan just admitted defeat?"

Rowan grinned, stepping back and holding up his arms in surrender. Ace's door opened the slightest bit and her face appeared in the gap. "It's true; I surrender. You win this argument," Rowan mocked, falling to his knees in fake remorse.

Ace opened the door a little more, but quickly pulled it closed again the second Rowan got up. Unfortunately for her, Rowan had stuck his foot in the door to stop it closing.

"Hey! Get out!" Ace ordered, kicking Rowan's shoe. Rowan smirked and leant against the slightly ajar door, waiting until Ace had tired herself out trying to push the door closed.

"Ace. These boots are steel-capped in the end. It's literally a chunk of metal that's stopping you from closing the door," Rowan pointed out, a triumphant smirk on his face. Ace growled a little, but stopped kicking Rowan's shoe and leant against the door, on the inside.

"I could break through metal if I wanted to, you know. I am strong enough," she said quietly, resting her head against the wood of the door. Her cheek was against the wood with her face pointed towards the opening, to the left, just centimeters away from the edge. On the opposite side, Rowan was positioned like a mirror image, chuckling to himself.

"I'm sure you could, Ace. But I don't think you'd choose to, in this case," Rowan explained in a gentle voice. Ace could feel how close he was, merely separated by a thin door. Ace breathed in the faint smell of dried paint from the door, accompanied with something else. Rowan. He smelt like autumn, or, what she decided autumn would smell like; spirited and spiced, not so welcoming, but desirable anyhow. Opposite her, Rowan sighed deeply, contemplating how a girl could smell so much like winter- fresh and wild, with a coolness that was rather enchanting.

"Why wouldn't I?" Ace asked, letting her left hand trail to the edge of the door. Her fingers slipped around the edge, resting on the door in a place where they would be crushed should Rowan move his foot.

Rowan bit his lip before he replied, noticing Ace's delicate hand at the edge of the door. "Because," Rowan said quietly, inching closer to the edge of the door, "Then you'd hurt me..."

"And you think that would stop me?" Ace whispered, more for the sake of conversation than in aggression. Rowan smiled a little, then, with great hesitance, he lifted his hand and let his fingers brush ever-so-slowly over Ace's.

"Yes," Rowan whispered, "I don't think you'd want to hurt me."

Ace closed her eyes, her heart pounding at Rowan's touch. Then she took a shaky breath, and pulled her hand away. She wouldn't let this happen. "I wouldn't be so sure," she said, turning her back on the door. She took a step away, and the door opened. Rowan leant against the doorframe, looking at the floor as Ace plonked herself down on the end of her bed.