"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 RIDDLE IS YASMINE AMAROS. CALANTHA, KASSANDRA, ERISED, EPIPHANY, DAÌNN, LANA, AND NICCOLÒ ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK RO*LINGS.
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T R I G G E R W A R N I N G
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─── ･ ｡ ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
T H I R T Y F I V E
I CONTEMPLATED every possible thing that could happen in the next forty minutes as he shut the doors to his classroom. As he did so, I waited back by his desk, where he told me to sit. I listened—only to make whatever he wanted to do go by fast. I had nowhere to be, no one to see, but I wanted to be rid of him, of this room as fast as possible.
I could tell he didn't care, by the way he took his time in walking around the room, in between and around tables, sliding his fingers over the surfaces, not even once looking so much as my way.
Why was he even awake at this hour? And why was he in the corridors? Sure, curfew doesn't apply to anyone other than students, but still.
"You have a question." he fixed his cuffs, stopping short of his desk, standing a few feet away. His focus was on his wrists, his fingers grazing the soft black fabric as he rolled and buttoned them.
I shifted in my seat, furrowing my eyebrows, watching his tall silhouette lean against a table, his face not visible anymore. He was consumed by shadows and darkness, and so was I, as I'd realized, as I glanced and gazed over the walls, and noticed that neither of our shadows appeared.
There wasn't enough light in the room to cast such a thing, and there was barely enough to allow me to see in front of my hands.
"Are you going to ask?" he pushed, tugging me from my thoughts. Every time he talked, his voice pulled on that mental leash that held me to him whenever we were together. On the other side of that leash, was my mind.
Keeping my voice quiet and even, I asked, "Why were you awake at this hour? And even moreso, why were you in the corridors?" I fumbled with my fingers in my lap, nervous that my question might anger him or come off as suspicion. I guess I was suspicious, but I wanted him to think I wascurious, not concerned.
A light chuckle left his lips, pursed in a line, from what I could see in the dark between us. It was suffocating, almost, that dark void of air between wherever our two bodies stilled. It taunted and taunted me, knowing my eyes couldn't see anything farther than when I held my hands in front of my face, and here it was—this darkness— laughing in my face as it closed off any sort of distance from reality and mind. In the darkness, one saw what it wanted to, not always what was really there, and it was easy to infiltrate a mind, especially one already weakened.
