Chapter Seven

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^ Sky's window seat ^

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T h e   H o l l o w s   O f
H I R A E   T  H
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"They're doing a roast in the cafeteria." Jameson offered, walking into my room.

"I'd rather have a takeout." I told him, my eyes never tearing away from the scene in front of me. Next to my bed was a window seat decorated with an assortment of different colours and textures of pillows; I have now claimed the window seat to be my favourite place.

I gazed out of the window—the view was beautiful and serene; it was almost magical.
I could see miles of fresh green fields beyond the academy's gates, some bright yellow hay fields, others an assortment of flowers from all across the palette.

"You've been moping around here all day," Jameson sounded slightly annoyed as if he had missed my company, and I could feel his presence right behind me. I hugged a lightly tinged with pink pillow close to my chest, refusing to face him with my bloodshot eyes and straggly hair.

Finally, the shock of leaving my family and friends had caught up to me and their absence was now haunting me. Though I didn't know whether or not they even cared about my disappearance, I definitely cared about losing them.

I was also traumatised by the mess with Eden the other night, and I have vowed to never leave Jameson's side because of that. And I'm sure Jameson would have a field day if I ever repeat these thoughts to him. God, the horrors.

I heard a sigh, "Sky, what's wrong?"

An unhumored smile appeared on my lips, "As if you'd care."

And suddenly Jameson was sitting opposite me.

"Whoever told you such thing?" I couldn't see Jameson's expressional response, but he sounded almost hurt as if his intentions had been misunderstood.

I scoffed, "It's your job to care about me."

Jameson stayed silent as if he was agreeing with me—or maybe he just didn't have a response. Jameson said nothing more and instead pulled his phone out of his pocket before sliding off my window seat and leaving the room and walking into his.

So far, the rule with the door has not been broken, and I haven't had the door shut when I'm not changing. Except for that one time when I was really frustrated at Jameson so I found a cardigan and pulled it on, saying I was changing just so I could block him out.

When Jameson walked back into the room a few moments later, he was carrying two tubs of Ben and Jerry's and two spoons. I frowned; Mr Uptight has a soft side? He handed me a tub and a spoon then sat opposite me once more

"Where did you get these?" I asked him as I peeled the lid off, ready to devour the masterpiece.

"I keep a mini fridge in my room; this is my secret stash." He explains as I eat a spoonful of my cookies and cream flavoured ice cream.

"I'll count myself lucky then," I told him and he laughed. I smiled; another laugh from Jameson, go me.

I pushed my blonde locks out of my face with my right hand, which, to my surprise, had done a fair amount of healing and I was now using my wrist much more.

"How's your wrist?" Jameson asks, as if on cue.

"Better; I can move it just a little more than point three centimetres!" I ever so sarcastically pronounced before performing the most demented happy dance you could ever imagine whilst sitting down. Jameson shook his head at me, a smile overtaking his lips.

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