The Scars of Anatomy

27. Only You

I walk into my dorm room to find a sight for sore eyes. Olivia is sitting on my bed, propped up against the headboard. She's dressed in one of my old football hoodies, absentmindedly twirling one of the drawstrings around her finger, with a pair of simple black leggings and blue socks adorning her feet. She has one of her knees bent up, propping up her binder full of notes to study from, all her other study materials sprawled out around her.

I grin, leaning up against the doorframe for a moment to watch her flip through her notes.

Sensing my gaze, she peers up at me, catching me staring at her. "What?" she asks, self-conscious.

My grin deepens as I push off the doorframe, making sure to close the door behind me, and saunter to the end of my bed, tossing the two water bottles I just picked up from the small café down the hall to the side. I lay my hands flat on the mattress, leaning my weight in my arms.

"Nothing," I muse, raking my eyes up her body, all the way from her sock covered toes to the messy bun of caramel locks piled on top of her head.

She flashes me a dubious look.

"Okay..." I drawl, lazily skimming one of my hands up the bed towards her.

Quickly, I grab ahold of her ankle, pulling her down the bed towards me. She shrieks at the sudden movement, tossing the binder she's holding to the side before crashing into me. I grab her legs, wrapping them around my torso as she's perched on the edge of the bed. Giggling, she places her hands on my chest, stabilizing herself.

I grin down at her. "Maybe I'm thinking about how good you look in my bed," I admit in a low, raspy whisper.

All the laughter drains from her brown eyes as she takes in sharp breath, her eyes now clouding over at my confession.

But as fast as she fell into the trance, she snaps out of it, giving me a smirk that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sure I'm not the first girl you've said that to," she says, her voice light, joking, but I sense the insecurity behind it.

I frown, my shoulders slumping. Since I met back up with her after our classes to study, I can tell she's not fully recovered from all that's happened today with rat boy and Adrianna. I can tell their words are still swirling around in that pretty little head of hers, no matter how hard she's trying to hide it.

"Finch," I sigh, not knowing where to start, the words clogged in my throat. I slide my hands up her calves that are still wound around my waist to her thighs, rubbing soothing circles into the soft fabric of her leggings as I try to find the right words to say.

I hate that she knows my past. I hate that I even have a past. And that after all these years, when I thought it wouldn't matter, it matters. Not just to her, but to me, too.

"You're the first girl in my bed," I admit.

She flashes me another dubious look, her hands on my chest falling until the tips of her fingers are barely resting on my stomach. Her legs also begin to go lack, but I run my hands down them, locking her ankles back into place around my waist.

"I'm serious. You're actually the only girl I've ever let into my room," I confess softly, suddenly nervous.

A small frown mares her brow, telling me she doesn't quite understand.

I sigh, leaning forward and hiding my face in the crook of her neck, embarrassed. "I've never brought a girl back here," I mumble against her skin. "I never done anything with a girl in here because... I don't know." I huff, pulling my face from her neck, but I'm still too ashamed to look her in the eyes. "It's too... personal," I admit.