04

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beita
/bay-ee-tah/







she could feel him scrutinizing her.

she hated when people scrutinized her. especially him, with his green eyes glowing from his tan skin, and his thick eyebrows creased. he looked like a perplexed ocean god, though they didn't exist. he had his large hand resting on his face, covering his sinful mouth.

innocent, they had said of him. he wasn't innocent, beita knew. the many times he had let his friends bruise her in many ways. he watched them, and it broke her nonexistent heart. she blinked the tears out of her eyes, swallowing her tears and putting on a façade of blankness.

she had to tell herself she didn't care because she knew she did care. she knew she cared a lot and she hated it. the bruises given to her over the years were given like extravagant gifts; often, and frequently. the visible marks went away, but the ones they left on her soul did not.

so she must not feel because if she started to feel a tiny thing then she'd feel everything and everything would matter to her and nothing should matter to her because she didn't.

shaking her head for the millionth time, she looked down at her work, then she felt it again. the heat of eyes on her fair skin.

he had to turn around in his seat to look at her, and he was doing it again.

she rolled her eyes and tried to pay attention to her work but he just wouldn't stop staring! so she looked up, and nearly had a heart attack when she did.

he stared straight at her, his emerald eyes burning more than before, intensely focusing on her face, her eyes, her cheeks, her lips. and her mouth was now completely dry, as she stared back in a sort of deer in the headlights look.

then, oh then, the teacher called his name, and he smirked at her. not smiled or grinned like he did to every girl in the school, he smirked. at her!

she shook her head and frowned as hard as she could, and he did as well, turning back around. why did her heart fall when he did?

this is why she was invisible, this is why she should be ignored. feelings were coming back, and she needed to feel nothing, nothing at all. she shoved the swirling pot of pent up emotions down, so far down this time no one would be able to make her alive again.

and she turned an empty heart to her empty paper.

_____________________
u know u need a life when you low key fan girl about ur own book characters

you, me, us.Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora