12. Glasses?

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"Are you gonna let me in?" Lucas raised an eyebrow.

"Uh...right....I mean.... come in" I opened the door wider to let him in.

He entered and looked anywhere but me.

"I'll go change. You can start preparing the rest of the project" I raced to my room , not waiting for a reply.

"He didn't come to class and now he is here?" I muttered to myself , while changing into my new PJs.

After changing I went downstairs , to find Lucas already working on our project. He was working so intently , that I took a moment to observe him.

His inky black hair, falling over his forehead, eyes intent on finishing the project, eyebrows furrowed as he focuses on the sentences, lips mumbling words from the project, veiny, long fingers jotting down points.

He didn't seem to notice me coming down. Suddenly he reached for his bag and took something from it.

Wait a second. Is that-

"Glasses?!" I cried out.

"You need glasses?" I asked again.

His face showed nothing as he said, "I need them sometimes"

"Oh. You look good wearing them" I blurted.

He chose to ignore the compliment and continue his work.

I sat across him and started working on the project.

The thick-rimmed glasses do look good on him. He caught me staring at him. I mentally slapped myself.

Way to go ,Nora

"What is it?" He suddenly asked.

"What is what?" I asked dumbly.

"Do you need something? You keep looking at me" He put his pen down and crossed his arms.

"No!" I didn't know what else to say to him. Im certain if I talk I'll be a stuttering mess, so I kept my head down.

"Sure" he uttered ,after a moment.

I reached for my pen, and started jotting down points, mentally cursing myself for staring at him.

An hour passed and I completed five pages of an essay for the project.

Five more pages?

"Hey. Can you get me some papers from that drawer?" I pointed to the drawer above -which I can only reach by standing on a chair.

He looked at me once and stood up, reaching for the drawer. While reaching for the drawer, his shirt rode up a little , revealing dreadful gashes.

Some still fresh. Some scars.

I gasped , causing him to turn around, a few papers in his hands. He laid it in the table and looked at me , confused.

"What?" He asked.

"Those injuries on your back. What happened?" I couldn't hide my shock.

Lucas stayed silent.

"Let me treat them" I stood up.

"No need. I'll get going" he started reaching for his bag.

"You'll go when I say" I took a step towards him.

He watched me with a look I can't decipher.

"Please....Let me" the concern was evident in my voice.

He gave a nod after a moment.

I hate it when anyone gets injured and avoid it. It should be treated properly. What was he thinking? It will probably infect if it isn't treated properly.

I don't want anyone to get hurt....even if its a person I hate.

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