[COMPLETED] Mila Wilson is quiet, anxious and a little bit of a mess. When she finally starts college despite her mental health issues, she meets the dark, mysterious, yet intriguing Jace Evans, who is covered in tattoos and the most beautiful boy s...
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Shit. This is really happening. What did I do?
My heart picks up its pace, as I break eye contact. I pray that he's not actually coming over here, but that he's leaving towards the door. Too bad, because here he is.
"We're talking. Now!" he breathes into my ear angrily, while yanking on my hand like I'm a little child.
"Hey!" the blonde guy that was dancing with me says.
Jace gives him a shove on the shoulder.
"Fuck off!" he says, with a look that could kill.
The guy stares at me weirdly, while I mouth "Sorry!" to him.
Nevertheless, he obeys and leaves us alone. That gives Jace the chance to continue pulling on my hand, and I notice that he's leading us upstairs, to the same room we were in last week. I can feel the stares of people on me, as we walk past them. Immediately, I'm uncomfortable again.
Before we enter the room, I finally get my courage back.
"What do you think you're doing?" I ask him angrily, yanking on my hand.
Jace simply opens the door, pulls us inside and locks the door. Up here the music is so quiet that I start to notice how drunk I really am. It always dawns on you when you're in a quiet place.
I see Jace taking a deep breath.
"How much have you had to drink?" he asks calmly, trying to pull himself together and crossing his arms over his chest.
His t-shirt rolls up a little, revealing more of his tattoos. I have to keep myself from drooling.
"None of your business. Don't treat me like a child" I say mimicking him, crossing my arms just like him.
"Then don't act like one" he takes one step forward, so that he's right in front of me.
I feel intimidated, his heavy breaths hitting my skin.
"What did I do? I'm just trying to have a good time."
"Yeah, I saw you having a good time with that guy down there. And don't think I didn't see you getting cozy with that guy in the kitchen" he says, getting angry again.
That means he's also getting louder. I can almost see a vein popping out on his forehead. If I wouldn't know his sweet, gentle side, then I'd probably be scared of him right now.
"You don't own me, I'm free to do whatever I want" I tell him, trying to stay calm myself.
I'm failing.
"If you're so busy watching me, then take a closer look. I didn't want that guy in the kitchen anywhere near me" I say, getting all worked up again.
We're quiet for a few seconds, before I start my next sentence.
