No, your eyes are not decieving you. I have uploaded once again! XD
Dedicated to the fan of the upload! Thanks for commenting on every chapter of this story, and my Hunger Games fan fiction. :D
Song describing Emily and Adriano's past relationship on the side. Also, a picture of a lisianthus (you'll see why).
THIS IS IN THE WATTY'S! DON'T FORGET TO VOTE! -->
I go out of my way to avoid Adriano. I spend the afternoon ducking behind groups of people at even a glimpse of bright blonde hair, even going to the extreme of engaging in sudden conversation with my History teacher when I spot the large, muscular figure appearing behind some lockers. However, it seems that you can’t hide from everything.
Closing my locker, I take one wistful last glance at the sun outside the window at the end of the empty corridor, before turning around. Instead of seeing the closed brown double doors I expect, I find myself face-to-face with someone’s chest. Dread fills me as my eyes trail up pass the messy tie, straight nose, and then to the cool grey eyes.
I take an instinctive step back, feeling threatened by the close proximity between us, before attempting to move around him and out of the doors. I should know by now, though, that Adriano won’t let me.
“That’s no way to treat an old friend,” his voice is quiet, but low and menacing, like the growl of a wolf hunting his prey. His hand shoots out, gripping my wrist tightly and pulling me close to him. I stumble at the sudden tug, cursing the clumsiness I have inherited from my dad as I fall against his chest. “Is it?” His hot breath fans against my face as he bends down, the corner of his mouth pulled up slyly.
A shiver crawls up my spine as I look into his emotionless eyes. Only the smirk on his face gives a hint of how he is feeling. I swallow down the bile rising in my mouth, forcing myself to look him steadily in the eyes. “Let go,” I order him, cursing the small tremble I can hear in my voice. Apparently the waver goes unmissed as he grins, his grip only tightening on my wrist. “Let go,” I repeat, my voice firmer this time. Sadly, the damage is already done.
“Why?” he asks, taking a step forward, and effectively forcing me to back up into the lockers. My back collides with a locker block with a light thud, the contents of the locker behind me rattling. I can feel the heat emitting from his body as he pushes himself against me so that the tips of our noses are touching.
“You’re despicable,” I spit, a flush of anger overcoming me. Wrenching my wrist from his grasp, I narrow my eyes in a glare, refusing to let myself look away from his penetrating gaze.
My resilience only makes him more amused. “Despicable me – sounds like I’m named after a movie,” he muses, a row of white teeth gleaming as he speaks.
I don’t make an effort to even comment on his egotistic reply, inside narrowing my eyes and fixing him with a cold look. “What do you want?”
“What do you want?” he shoots back, his own eyes narrowing. “What are you doing with this Aaron guy?” The animal inside me wants to shrink away from the venom sizzling on his tongue; running away and hiding seemed like a good idea. However, as much as I may want to, trapped between Adriano and the lockers, there’s no choice for me but to stand my ground. “I didn’t take you as the type of girl to fool around with people more popular than you.”
That comment makes my teeth grind together. “You don’t know anything,” I growl. Not liking the useless feeling of my hands hanging at my side, I shove his chest, but to no avail. He doesn’t even budge a centimetre, instead his top lip curling up as though entertained by my actions.
“Your favourite colour is blue; you hate cheese melting on your pasta; Glee is your guilty pleasure; your favourite flowers are lisianthus’.” His recital leaves me speechless as an image of the beautiful bouquet of lisianthus’ he brought for my fifteenth birthday drifts through my mind. The delicate pure white petals are tinged with violet as though someone has come along and flicked a paintbrush over the top of the flower and the petals ripple smoothly in the slight breeze.
Blinking hard, I am glad as the image dissolves. The smirk replacing it, however, is not so pretty. I stare closely at Adriano’s face, my eyes searching his for any sign of an emotion. I can’t help but feel surprised at how he can so easily remember all those facts; in fact, I’m more surprised, at why he could want to remember all those facts.
“Did you think I would forget all that so easily?” he asks. It’s almost as though he can read my mind. I guess that after two years of being so close - practically glued to each other’s sides, in fact – old habits die hard. Not knowing how to respond, I remain mute. The intensity of his eyes looking into my own becomes overbearing, my eyes darting to the wall behind him and then to the floor. “We were good together, you know.”
I peer up from underneath my lashes, not quite believing the words coming from his mouth. At the sight of him ducking towards me, a small spark of hope flares inside my heart. I watch as his familiar plump red lips near my own, so familiar, and then as one of his hands nears my cheek to cup it. That’s when the reason that I broke up with my Prince Charming rushes back, and my hand shields my face, palm outwards. Adriano’s face comes to a halt a centimetre away from my skin.
“Not anymore,” I state firmly.
I lower my hand as he withdraws his face. His hand drops away from where it had been travelling, and I breathe deeply through my nose, standing up straight, pleased to have my dignity intact. My eyes go to the door, my feet about to move, but not before a quick movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. A hand, firm and clenched in a fist, soars through the air.
I flinch instinctively, one arm coming up to shield my face, my body hunching defensively against the locker block. I wait for the stinging sensation against my cheek, tears brimming in my eyes as the memory stabs at me like a dagger in my heart. It doesn’t come. Instead, a loud bang echoes across the corridor, the lockers shaking behind my back. I peek from underneath my arms to see the firm fist retreating from the blue metal, a round dent in its place.
“You bitch,” the low hiss sends a shower of spit across my face. “You’ll always be mine.”
The deadly glint in his eye warns me not to disagree as I feel my eyes prickling with tears. A single salty bead glistens as it leaks from the socket, trailing down my cheek. I nod mutely, refusing to meet his eyes, before I flee the corridor weakly, the very characteristic I never thought I would ever fall under.
“Emily?” I hurriedly wipe my eyes at the sound of my name, the sleeve of my school blazer itchy against my eyelids. “Are you okay?” I look up to see Harry’s worried eyes peering down at me beneath his new floppy fringe.
“Fine,” I lie, sniffling as I avoid making contact with his eyes. Pathetic, I think as he raises an eyebrow at my obvious untruthfulness. Thankfully, though, he doesn’t ask questions as I remain silent, something that I admire him for. If Micky was in his place, he would have already squeezed the truth out of me and already be in the process of stalking Adriano down with a pitchfork. “What’s up?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject.
He sends me a dubious look before letting his shoulders rise and fall. “I’m just going to see Verity, actually,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Something about the way he’s walking stiffly and the thoughtful expression on his face, as a muscle in his jaw tenses and un-tenses, makes me raise my eyebrows. He doesn’t catch my expression, his eyes focused on the ground instead.
I watch curiously as I follow him towards the exit, the sound of his toes scuffing against the ground loud in the abandoned school. My eyes widen as a thought pops into my mind. What if he’s thinking of breaking up with Verity? I almost stop walking at the ridiculousness of the thought. Surely, he wouldn’t? I scrutinize his back, taking note of the unusually tight posture of his.
“Emily,” he says my name anxiously just as I call his own. I smile sheepishly as he turns to face me with an equally foolish grin.
“You first,” we both chorus.
I roll my eyes, the both of us laughing at the repetition. “You go first.” I gesture with my hands in his direction.
“No, you,” he protests, scratching the back of his neck again; a nervous habit he has picked up, apparently. I fix him with a look that clearly dares him to make me go first, causing his lips to part sheepishly once again. “Well…” he trails off, holding open the door for me to go outside. “I-I, uh,” he stammers, his brows knitted together adorably as he tries to form words. “I was wondering if, you know, you- you could give me some advice on how to tell Verity I love her?” his voice grows gradually quieter until the ending is merely a whisper.
My eyebrows shoot up at the last two words. Noticing, Harry ducks his head embarrassedly, a light blush decorating his cheekbones. A grin spreads across my face at his adorable expression. Verity is definitely lucky to have such a sweet guy.
“Do something small,” I answer through my grin.
“Small?” he questions doubtfully.
“Yes, something simple,” I muse, picking my way across the school grounds, the empty car park only a short distance away now. As much as Verity loves parties and big dos, something tells me that when it comes to the one special person, small things that come from the heart will mean that much more to her. “Trust me. She’ll appreciate a single flower more than a bouquet. Take her somewhere special, not an everyday club. You can go to clubs whenever you want, with whoever you want. With Verity, create somewhere special. She’s been to too many parties for you to be able to exceed her expectations.”
When Harry doesn’t reply, I move my thoughtful gaze from the cloudless sea of blue to where he is stood with an amazed expression on his face. “Wow,” he says. I blush as I realize that he’s commenting on my mindful speech. “You sound experienced in the matter.”
This causes the blush to deepen as his words spark the actual reason of what I have just described hits me – Adriano’s declaration of love. I shrug my shoulders stiffly. “I just know Verity well.” It’s not a lie, but then again, it’s not the complete truth.
We come to a standstill as we reach the car park, the both of us knowing that we must part separate ways here. I raise my hand awkwardly in a small wave, but instead find myself being pulled against his chest in a warm, caring embrace. I feel Harry’s arms wrapped around me friendlily, not suffocating, but tight enough for it to be comforting. With a moment of hesitation, I place my own arms around his back and squeeze lightly back, a small smile on my face. It’s relieving just to be held without any strings attached by a friend who cares about you.
I have uploaded! Uploads are going to be a lot more frequent now that the deadline for the Watty's are getting nearer. So keep up your support!
I forgot to say- about the Aaron POV, I will not be writing one. As many of you pointed out, it spoils the mystery of the story. So there won't be any of Aaron, until perhaps near the end of the story.
Right! I do think that's all, my dear Wattpadians with your eyes glued to your computer screens and stalking skills. I have something to say! I LOVE YOU. We're *counts* 725 reads away from 10,000. O.O LET'S GET THERE!
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