CHAPTER XIV: Spit or Swallow?

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I woke up to bright lights penetrating my eyes and an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. Last nights pizza was not a good idea, I could feel it churning in my gut and and the carbs shooting straight to my thighs. Nice call, Circe.

I pushed the duvet off of myself and sat up; my legs dangling off of the side of the bed, searching for- where are my Versace slippers? Why does that bitch feel the need to touch my shit?!

"Aimmée?" She wasn't in her bed and there was no dying cat in the bathroom. I looked around the room and saw the window ajar, curtains flung to the side. So that's what woke me up. Stretching my arms I got up and tied my hair back. I guess she headed out already. Saturday morning? 8:00am? Aimmée already out? My, something was off today.

After a long attempt to detangle my brown locks in the shower, and very nearly snapping the comb in half- god only knew what I got up to in my sleep- I got dressed, put some quick makeup on, grabbed my bag and left. Rather than conversing with people I neither liked or hated, I decided that today I would head off campus.

Signing out at reception, I began walking down the long, gravel path and out the tall gates that separated the Innes Institution from the rest of the world.

It was a nice day, surprising as the last couple of days had been full of frigid rain and winds too gusty even for an umbrella. For some strange reason the weather today was pleasant and cool, with a constant breeze. The ground was wet from last night's rainfall, giving the air a rich earthy smell. The appearance of the sun had flowers of the season standing upright, their smiling faces tilted towards the sky and ponds were bathed in a golden hue, the water in them as clear as crystal.

A sudden gut wind caused my hair to fly up, getting stuck on the the lipgloss I painstakingly applied this morning.

"Ergh." I muttered, brushing my hair of my face and wiping my face. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder I started to walk once more.

Taking my time, I wandered down the streets, absorbed the surroundings, letting my feet guide the way- being spontaneous was always the best approach. The countryside town looked different in the day, it looked more peaceful and quaint than it did at night.

Walking beneath the tall sycamores that lined the sidewalks my stomach started to rumble. Maybe I should find some place to have a quick breakfast.

I found myself in a petit, rustic, coffee shop, the type of shop where none of the mugs match. It was small, with wooden tables and plants lining the perimeter. Looking up, the ceiling looked like that of an old barn and had fairy lights wrapped around the beams. The main wall was covered in different sized who frames, sprayed gold and silver, showing local artwork. Behind the counter, the menu was displayed on a blackboard- handwritten by that charming barista next to it.

As always, I took the seat furthest from the door. I placed my books and journal on the solid, wooden bench and approached the counter.

"Hey, what can I get you?" Instantly, I took a liking to him. His sharp green eyes complemented his dark skin tone.

"Hi, umm, I'll get a lavender, white chocolate mocha please." Those muffins did look amazing, was that red velvet? Resist, Circe. That pizza from yesterday was still heavy on my stomach.

"Do you want whipped cream with that?" He smiled, showcasing his amazing teeth. Oh god? Was I drooling?

"No, thanks." He was wearing a dark green apron, with a name badge reading: Hasan Shah.

"Or can I tempt you with a red velvet? Baked fresh by yours truly." He winked, he's a bit of a flirt isn't he!

"I really shouldn't- though they do look tempting. Just the mocha please."

"That's 4.49 then." I love overpriced coffee shops. I reached into my bag for my purse and-

"Shit."

"Are you okay?" Hasan asked, his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

"Dammit, I must have left my purse in my room. " I am such a scatter brain! "Fuck, I'm sorry, cancel that."

"It's fine. This one's on the house, or more specifically, on me." He said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders and smiling once more.

"Are you sure, you really don't have to?" I said, not wanting to look like a charity case.

"No, please. You look like you need it. But you owe me." He winked again, I knew that I liked him.

"Thank you so much." I smiled.

"No problem. I'm Hasan."

"Circe."

"Well, Circe, take a seat, I'll bring it over." I smiled and turned around, walking back to my seat. I opened my laptop to that sociology essay I've been meaning to write, honestly I don't know why I chose it. Why do I need to know the secondary agents of socialisation?

A few minutes later, Hasan came over and placed a geometric mug with my mocha on the table next to a red velvet muffin. Delicious. Sliding a napkin underneath the mug, he walked away- gosh, he had one sexy ass. I picked it up: 'Enjoy x' and his phone number. He really is a flirt! Neatly, I folded the napkin and tucked it away into the back of my phone case. I wasn't sure if I'd ever call him, but it was nice having the option.

I got back to work, trying to distract myself, not that it was really working. Fortunately, I managed to get a couple of notes done before there was a light jingle from the doorway.

I picked up the steaming mocha and took a sip, nearly burning my lips. Hmm, the lavender leaving a sweet taste on my tongue. Picking up my pen I decided to get a move on with the dreaded work beside me. Entranced In my thoughts and the delicious mocha next to me I didn't notice a certain someone staring at me a table away.

"Hey there, sexy." The sound of his voice made me spit out the mocha- what a waste. I wasn't in the mood for his bullshit. Stretching out his long legs, he began to saunter my way. Fuck, why was he walking over? Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission. "Fancy seeing you here." He smirked.

Wiping my mouth, I sighed, "Leave me alone, you fucking creepy stalker boy!" I shut my laptop and put it back into my bag. Locking eyes with Hasan, I gave him a weak smile before turning to leave.

Hunter's hand shot out, grabbing my hand and spinning me so I was facing him, gazing into a cacophony of green and gold. I could feel his warm breath against my face- why was he doing this to me?

"Stop." My voice firm and unfeeling, little did he know his hands on my wrists and the lack of space between us had my pulse quickening.

"Just hear me out," he pleaded, "listen-"

Part of me wanted to hear what he had to say, to know why he was here. But the other part, the smarter part, knew it was just a waste of my time. He is a player after all.

"Listen to what? You treat me like shit all of the time and you expect me to listen?" I turned again and pushed my way out of the cafe- the cool air was refreshing. I expected him to follow me, but to my surprise he didn't.

Well, what did I expect?

He is a player after all.

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