"Why don't you just leave me alone?" I spit at him, the anger laced in my voice angered him and I loved it. I watched as he clenched his jaw, staring at me as his eyes darkened; walking up to me, soon towering over me making me realize how small I w...
MATTHEO RIDDLEIS YASMINE AMAROS. CALANTHA, NICCOLÒ, KASSANDRA, ERISED, EPIPHANY, DAÌNN, AND LANA ARE ALL MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK R*WLINGS.
─── ･ ｡ ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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─── ･ ｡ ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
T W E N T Y S I X
"WHY are you here?" I mumbled, stepping aside as he walked past me, his gentle scent wafting through my nose. He smelled just as he did in the library, like sandalwood and roses, which was strange for him, what with how he presented himself and walked around with his head held high.
He glared at me, leaning against the wall beside my bed, his black dress shirt completely buttoned up, his cuffs perfectly lined, his collar straight. There wasn't a single imperfection on him, completely nothing; everything, as it seemed, was where it should've been, exactly where he wanted it to be.
I could tell he brought on a greater storm than Mattheo did as far as control went. It was easily identifiable the more that I watched him from afar. The first thing I noticed was anytime someone was too close to him, brushed his sleeve as they walked by, or even moved his way without acknowledging him, he grew frustrated and irritable. Another thing that I'd picked up was, when he was frustrated or irritated, and not just once or twice, but every single time, he'd clench his jaw, take in a deep breath as he drew his head back, then avert his eyes to some other place in the room. When someone was talking to him, most usually seventh year girls or other professors, it was as if he didn't even bother to hide the fact that he wasn't listening.
He was arrogant, more than Mattheo, more controlling, and even further to say, more in control. They were the same only, from what I could tell, everything that Mattheo was, Daìnn was just more.
"To see how you're doing," his brow turned upward as his glare turned into a complacent smile. I couldn't tell if he was being genuine or taunting me, and even so, if there was any difference between the two to him.
I shut the door next to me and played with the hem of the sweater I wore, my eyes dropping to the floor. "I don't know what you mean. I'm fine, and why do you care?"
If Mattheo walked in, if he even knew about what happened in the library, not that much really happened in the library, the progress that we were building would be completely destroyed.
"Someone has to care," he crossed his arms, playing with the cuff of his black button up. Then he sighed, looking back up at me, my eyes no longer on the floor but latched onto his. "It's obvious that you won't let anyone else, but I saw you, and they didn't, so things aren't necessarily the same between you and I as they are between you and everyone else, are they?"
"What you saw was simply a moment where I was upset, it was nothing serious. Surely you know that everyone has bad days."
He pushed off of the wall and smiled, laughing quietly under his breath, his tongue in his cheek. "No," he narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. He shook his head. "No," he repeated. "You're close to your breaking point."
"I'm not close to any breaking point, and you know nothing about me. I have a lot of things to live for, so you can stop trying to read me like a book, because it isn't going to work. I'm not going to open up to you."
"I never asked you to open up to me. I never asked you to do anything. I was simply just telling you what you already know. And that's why you're getting so angry, isn't it?"
