Chapter Eight

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My shoulder was jerked around and I immediately shut my eyes and flinched, scared of what the person was going to do. The stranger didn't say anything more, so I hesitantly opened my eyes. I was met with familiar black eyes, and a familiar scowl adorning his face.

"Noah?" I said, glancing at his hand on my shoulder. His knuckles were beaten up, and slightly scabbed over, evidence he'd been in a fight recently. When he noticed me looking, he snatched his hand away.

"How observant," he deadpanned. "Why are you outside of a bar?"

I was about to answer when someone bumped into me from behind, making me stumble into Noah. He grabbed the side of my arms to steady me before clenching his jaw and glaring at the person behind me. His countenance made me nervous, so I rushed to apologize.

"Sorry," I whispered, hastily looking behind me to make sure it was clear before taking a step back. Whoever had hit me was no longer there, no doubt scared away by Noah's expression.

Noah didn't respond, but grabbed my arm to yank me away from the mass of people until their roars became a faint hum. I had no choice but to allow myself to be taken away. His grip on me was like a vice. I knew he could easily overpower me, and that fact made me anxious. Still, I figured my chances with him were better than my chances with a drunken crowd.

"What the hell were you doing in a bar?" He asked me again in an agitated voice once we finally stopped, a couple buildings east of the bar. His eyebrows were pushed down in frustration and his eyes studied me carefully. "You're wearing makeup."

Instinctively I reached up a hand to touch my cheek, having forgotten about the impromptu makeup session. I wasn't planning on having it be seen by anyone, so I was a little self-conscious."So?"

He tore his eyes away from my face to look up and down my body, taking in my attire. They darkened at the sight of my bare (and not to mention freezing) legs."Those fucking skirts," he muttered. It looked like he had calmed down for a second, but immediately his annoyance flared up again. "Are you trying to get yourself killed in a bar fight?"

"I'm just trying to walk home," I said quietly, wondering why he cared. If I saw him here first, I certainly wouldn't have approached him and demand to know what he was doing. In fact, I probably would've ran back to Wren's house at the sight of him.

"In this weather and at this time of night?" He asked me, shooting up an eyebrow.

I leaned against the brick wall we were by, and folded my hands behind me. The rough surface of the brick pushed through the sleeves of my sweater, scratching my arms slightly. "Yeah. I live another fifteen minutes away." As soon as I said it, I wanted to throw myself into the bar fight to get put out of my misery. Why would I tell Noah that? Why didn't I just lie like I usually did?

"I thought you were supposed to be smart," he said, no humor in his eyes. "Clearly not."

I scrunched up my face at the mean remark. That was unnecessary. I just didn't want to be a bother to Wren's parents. Walking a little bit in the cold wouldn't kill me, and it didn't mean I was stupid. I know his words shouldn't affect me, but they did.

"If you don't need anything, I'm going to go," I mumbled. I pushed myself up off the wall and started to head to my right but Noah placed his hand against the wall beside me before I could take a step. He had effectively trapped me since the only thing to my left was an alleyway bathed in shadow. Nervously, I looked up at him and our eyes met. His dark hair was lain against his forehead as he leaned over me, partially blocking out part of his eye. It was already hard enough to make out his features in this darkness, especially since he was wearing dark clothes, like he always seemed to.

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