Sweet Dreams and Dark Things

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Fia's POV

"New challenge, poetry without a rhyme. I wanna see some heart in this assignments. No more chronological rhymes about a damn trip to the ocean." Mr. Harper was ruthless today. I glanced to a girl in the class that had written that exact poem. She turned pink and sunk in her seat.

As soon as class was dismissed I made my way down to Harpers desk to pick up the latest assignments. He slid them forward as his next class filed in. I remember him mentioning the school wanting him to pick up another class. Maybe that's why he was grumpy...

"Wait, here's yours." His tone was low and bitter as he slid my already graded paper across the desk.

"You gave me a 74?" I cocked my head. He glanced up then down to the paper.

"So you can read." He went back to his computer with that sarcastic tone.

"I worked hard on this poem." I lowered my voice when students began to look our way. He took a deep breath and faced me fully.

"You worked hard because it wasn't coming naturally. Write about something better next time. If you weren't so pretty I would have given you a 65. Are we done?" A muscle in his jaw fluttered as my gaze widened. What a fucking prick. I took a step closer, lowering my tone.

"You want something natural? Maybe I'll write about the professor that flirts with his students because he has no game with women his own age. Fucking pathetic." I cocked my head and pouted my lower lip before turning on my heels. I made sure my shoes made noise as I pounded them down the metal stairs.

I don't care how stressed he is, he wasn't going to undermine my writing with my looks. I pulled my coat tighter as I made my way outside. Fall was in full effect. The leaves were all pretty colors and the air was crisp in my lungs. I took a moment, standing in the middle of the courtyard to breath through my rage.

"Fia."

I snapped my gaze forward, following the deep tone. Nolan. He was in one of his deep colored suits, with a jacket to mock warmth from the chilly air. He would have been fine without a coat. Wolves had a way of staying hot.

"Nolan." I released a breath of air, tugging my own coat tight. He eyes raked my body, appeased by my choice to cover my skin.

"I was told to ask about food restrictions. For Friday's dinner." He stuffed his hand into his coat pockets, glancing around campus at all the young students.

"Nope, no restrictions. But I hate potatoes." I spoke up, the wind wafted my hair into my face. I blinked and cleared it to see Nolan's eyes narrowed.

"Who doesn't like potatoes?" He responded bitterly. I smiled.

"Me."

I adjusted my bag and walked passed him, slow enough and close enough that it encouraged him to follow. My shoulder brushed his, the scent of him made me weak. I pictured his warm hands seeping under my coat.

"I am determined now to find a potato you like." He joked.

"I like fries. The skinny ones." I peered up at him as he kept his pace with me. His smile fell briefly when his blue eyes met mine. The moment couldn't have been more than three seconds, but it coursed my head and heart as if we were sat their minutes, stuck in each others gaze.

"Come on." He pulled his hand out of his pocket and found mine. It was so big and warm I had to look down to see how small he made me feel. My breath hitched and my heart sputtered. No doubt he heard the effect.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he pulled me in a direction opposite of the bus stop. He let go of my hand when he saw I was following dutifully. I stepped away, keeping my distance and shoving my warmed palm in my own pocket to savor the feel. My spine ached for that shiver, the shiver I knew he could give me.