Glowing hatred

8

Hi guys, sorry to interrupt your reading... but I wanted to quickly comment on something.

You might've noticed in my writing but if you haven't i'm here to tell you anyway!

I've been having an especially hard time writing Jaime's p.o.v.'s and since this chapter is full of them I'd like to give a quick explanation as to why.

I like to live inside my characters whenever I write and in this story i'm more focused on Carla's emotions and personality.

That doesn't mean that I don't like writing Jaime's parts but...
His 'mind' is very fucked and chaotic.
I have a hard time portraying it into my writing and thus I like to keep his parts short. It needs to be "his" part and not "my" writing to fill his parts up, you know?

Sorry if it doesn't make any sense, but please try to look past all the cuts in this chapter and continue enjoying this book!

Much love, writer.

Jaime's p.o.v.

I turned the other way in my bed.

What the fuck is wrong with me?
I fucking spied on her? What am I, a stalker?! I watched her masturbate and got off to it.

I felt disgusted with myself...

Carla... she brings something out of me. Something obsessive and wrong.

I'd have to avoid her as much as possible for the upcoming days, the final assignment was due in two days. Hopefully until then I could contain myself.

I groan and let myself fall back into sleep, until my alarm rang and woke me up.
"Let's avoid her at all costs today." I mumbled to myself.

—

Somehow i've managed to keep myself away from Carla. Even if she kept looking my way, even if she sat in my favourite spot on the roof.
I reminded myself and got out of there.

I felt my blood boiling. It's never a good thing with me. I'd have to blow some steam.

I slip my phone out of my pocket and check the time. Fuck.
It's nearly time to present our final assignments.

I groan and shake my head.
Let's just get that over with...

With no hesitation I push open the arts and crafts room. The light was on so some students must be preparing for today as well...

To my surprise it's empty...

Did they leave the room open? Without locking it behind them?

I look around but there's no traces of a person.

I step further in and close the door behind me. When I look towards my work I notice another canvas leaning against mine.

Carla's handwriting on the back of it. I walk closer to it, bending down and trying to look at what she wrote.
'Carla Flores, class 3-B.'

My fingertips trace her writing until the thought of peeking made me pull back.

I shouldn't.

The sound of someone pulling the handle on the door made me jump up and back.

"Oh- Jaime..."
Carla had stepped in. She seems surprised by my presence. Her mesmerising eyes peeked at me but then flung to the ground.

She stepped in and walked past me, grabbing her canvas.
"Let's go." Her voice unemotional.

I nod and grab my canvas and follow behind her.

—

It was finally our turn to present. I let Carla walk up first before grabbing my canvas and also making my way to the front of the class.

The eyes of the other students burned in my back as I made my way up there.
I've never liked standing in front of the class, presenting. All their eyes on me. I hated it in fact.

Theres only two eyes that could burn on me forever and I wouldn't mind.

My gaze flicks to Carla and to my surprise her lips were curled up in a smile as she finally showed the class her painting.

It's me, holding a camera. My head peeks past the camera and my black hair's ruffled making it seem windy. The background's blue and calming. A lot like mine. To my surprise none of my tattoo's are visible on the painting.

Lost in my thoughts I feel the silence fill up my ears and realise Carla's looking at me.

"Oh yeah sorry." I mumble, before showing the class my painting.

Carla had managed to catch the vibe of my painting very well.

I heard some gasps around the class until the teacher cleared her throat.
"It's really well done. Jaime, why did you come up with something like this?"

The teacher looks at me endearingly but I could feel buzzing between my ears. God fucking damn it.

Why should I tell you that, my feelings, in front of the whole class?

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked down upon the ground.

These memories, these feelings. They're only for Carla, not anyone else.

I put the painting down and walked over to my table to grab my bag.

I could vaguely hear the teacher calling my name and other students asking some irrelevant questions.

Everybody needs to shut the fuck up.
I need to get the fuck out of here.

I feel the panic rise inside me, my eyes blurry and my walls building up.

I stomp past the teacher and slammed the door behind me.

—

Carla's p.o.v.

The teacher blinked at me in surprise but then proceeded the class.
"Carla, you and Jaime did a good job. Both of you are really talented and should be proud of your work! You can sit back down."

I nodded and took both our paintings back to my seat.

The rest of the class I stared into nothing.
Wondering what the hell was up with him.

How could he just leave like that? Does he hate me that much? He can't even explain the reason behind his painting...
I bit my bottom lip in embarrassment and anger.

I shouldn't care about Jaime. Not anymore.