The Little Dove #3 ✔️

09. Golden Level and Above Mine

CHAPTER 9: Golden Level and Above Mine

I wake groggily Saturday morning, my hair curled to the side. Last night was a questionable roller coaster. Edmund removed any touch Professor Forthright attempted to inflict. He kept me closed when he lead us back to my room, suddenly thankful I had a fingerprint scanner and very early morning code. I move the covers off me, revealing my burgundy chemise. I unlock my room, open the door, and cover up a yawn.

Walking around the furniture, I step towards the kitchen and flick on the kettle. I step backward, expecting to feel the kitchen counter soon enough when my back hits a familiar chest. I furrow my eyebrows and tilt my head, "How did you get in?" I wonder sleepily.

Upside down, I watch him raise an eyebrow, "Surprised you didn't hear the racket of all of us coming in. Everyone else, including Lorraine, chose to eat at the school's cafeteria. I'd said I'd wait up for you with the excuse that I had to give you book the imaginative book I stole from you and tore to pieces."

It's my turn to raise an eyebrow, "That's rather violent, and Lorraine, just let you stay here with those words on your lips. She's rather trusting." I murmured, under my breath, stepping away from him to pour my tea.

He crosses his arms behind me, "How are you feeling after yesterday?" He asks quietly as if he was too hesitant to find the answer. I glance over at him inquisitively.

"I was rather forward." He adds.

I shrug, "He stopped the very second he saw you, and he didn't even hear you when you arrived, which was good. It shows he won't even attempt to try anything on me, so long as you are there, but I still need to be able to get information from him." I murmur, taking a sip and sighing in delight as I lean on the other side with all the appliances.

"I saw him, lemon." He says, deadly low; when I look up at him, I tilt my head in amused fascination when I watch him fold his arms stiffly, his jaw set in a slice that could cut a girl's heat out, his silvery eyes storming over in hurricanes. He looked like a force that could be reckoned with.

"Reiterate?" I ask.

His nostrils flare, "It's unprofessional for a teacher to lay a hand on a student, specifically where he had for the duration he had done it for. I watched with high restraint," He seethes, I widen my eyes at this outcome.

"Alright, calm down...by a lot. Goodness, Edmund. We've barely talked." I whisper, sidling in next to him.

He snaps his head to me, "Everything heightens with protective tendencies when you see a man like that, attempting to retrieve something he must know is never going to happen to you, lemon. I was a fool for not seeing it before and for accusing you of being paranoid. You don't know how deeply I regret suggesting that you were." He tells me, sidling in next to me, only for a knock on the door to resound.

He furrows his eyebrows, "The others would have messaged me if they were returning." He whispers, stepping over to the door. I step in behind him, ensuring he stays out of the way as he slowly opens it.

I watch his grip tighten on the handle, "Professor Forthright, what do I owe the pleasure?" He says stoically. He raises the hand from the handle. I intertwine our fingers for strength, not much more, as I catch the air shift in the man on the other side of the door.

"Edmund, what are you doing in her rooms?" Accusation and something rather darkened in Professor Forthright's voice have me tightening my hold on Edmund's hand, but he squeezes back in comfort and understanding.

"I am a close friend of Melanie's. Did you need her for something?" His question was more out of the question as if he was telling Forthright to 'get lost' in silent, obscured words.