A War of Guns and Roses

Chapter 18

Xavier's POV

She was so beautiful. So damn beautiful.

Xavier, enough. My conscience reminded me.

I exited her restroom and was surprised to see her on the floor, her hair tied up in a bun, with a few tendrils of her hair trailing out that she tucked behind her ear, her expression set in firm defiance.

Why wasn't she kicking me out? Why was she still taking all of my bullsh!t?

I admired this beauty as she sat, her legs crossed one over the other, charts and diagrams splayed on the floor around her.

She had made all of that for me.

The realization hit me like a block of granite and I hated myself even more. I hadn't planned on visiting her, but something in me just couldn't bear the look of disappointment I had seen back in the library.

Yes, I was there. I was watching her, analyzing her was more like it. I had purposefully ditched her and hadn't even been bothered to personally tell her. Yes, I knew I was a huge prick.

I had a match today. A boxing match. I couldn't cancel the match even if I tried. My reputation was on the line. I had to create an example for others and I couldn't do that if I had attended the tutoring session today. After the match, I was intercepted by a few goons and I was taken by surprise because I was thinking about a certain someone. That was how I had received my injuries. They hadn't caused severe damage so I hadn't really noticed that they were a bit deeper and numerous than I had originally thought.

I was wrong. I thought she would have kicked me out by now and told me to never speak to her ever again. But no, she was still stubborn. I would have to use other ways to get her to hate me.

Then why did you make the deal with her in the first place?

That question. That question had been haunting me for days now. I didn't know why I had made the deal with her. It was true that I had felt bad for snapping at her but I was not known to feel bad or guilty. I was supposed to be cold. To be heartless. I had never said sorry to anyone in my life after her and yet I had apologized to her. I had let my armor crumble a bit just for her. Letting her lean against me on the beach yesterday. Letting her place her head on my lap.

I was just making this worse for myself and I was hurting her in the process. But I had to hurt her. I had to because I was being selfish. I wanted her and yet I knew I couldn't have her. I had made the deal with her and I knew I couldn't go back on it so I would just have to settle on making her hate me.

I sat on the floor across from her, watching her silently. She pursed her lips and immediately started teaching. She was releasing all of her pent up anger and frustration in her speech while teaching and I couldn't concentrate on a thing she was saying.

Not when she was wearing such short shorts that covered nearly nothing and an oversized t-shirt which fell to her mid-thigh, giving the impression that she was wearing nothing underneath. And to make matters even worse, I could tell that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Sh!t. I cursed. Does she plan on killing me?

I shook my head and forced myself to listen to her. The least I could do was listen to her when she had put in so much effort for me.

She was still angry. And I was getting frustrated because I couldn't grasp the concept she was explaining. She was going too fast. And I couldn't keep up with her. I had a strong case of Slow Processing Speed. It was not exactly ADHD, at least it wasn't to that height.