THESE HIDDEN WINGS

[55.1] THE OFFER

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"what the hell you were thinking? Jumping into a pool of sirens?"

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I TRIED NOT to think too much about the eyes that were studying me three feet away, scribbling as much as I could, as fast as I could remember in the pages of the dark book that he had given me. I threw a low shady look his way when I noticed movement as he walked past me and to what I assumed was the desk.

I heard a creaky noise I could only assume was the drawer being open but kept my eyes on what I was writing, breathing heavily. He remained out of eyesight still by the desk, and somehow that made it worse.

I felt like he could see the goosebumps lined up my skin.

Then again, I was pretty sure he could already hear the heartbeat that thundered within my ribcage. He scoffed suddenly, but I couldn't get myself to look back at what he was grunting at, tightening my grip around my pen, gritting my teeth as I penned on.

When I finally felt like I could write no more, I stopped writing, sitting still in the middle of the room while my brain racked for some sort of getaway plan.

Everything that was happening here just felt like a bad dream, one that I needed to either wake up from or escape the killer before he decides to well you know, kill me.

The heavy footsteps behind me hinted that he was coming closer again, the familiar black shine of his heavy boots coming to view as he looked down at me, outstretching his hand which I proceeded to hand the essay over.

He took it along with my pen, twirling it between his fingers, as his eyes glazed over it.

I watched him in anticipation, unable to contain the worry that was flooding within me. He peered down at me for a moment and my eyes glued to the floor staring wide at his shoes, alarmed I had almost been a prisoner in those ice-cold prisons he called eyes.

ALWAYS HOLD EYE CONTACT, my mother and Zali had repeatedly taught me.

Well, they never said there would come a time when I would meet a convert who had the power to take control of your body. and make me feel like I was living a nightmare, so no, I would not be holding eye contact with a boy I was pretty sure could steal my soul, now.

After a moment, I risked a glance at him, noticing that he was back to reading the essay, the pen twirling between his silver-ringed fingers before he grunted tossing the notebook on the bed, his jaw tightening as he looked above my head in what I could only describe as a ticking frustration.

"Everything," he gritted out, before his eyes lowered down to me, "You remember everything," his jaw clenched, eyes narrowing down at me, "Good, so now you can tell me what the hell you were thinking jumping into a pool of sirens?!" he hissed.

I flinched at his tone but he didn't seem to give a dang.

I was breathing heavily now as he awaited my answer, and I glanced at the bed timidly. He looked at his bed before rolling his eyes and stomping toward it. He grabbed the book he had just thrown over handing it over to me.

I grabbed the book frantically writing down an answer as if my life depended on it, before showing it to him.

It seemed to annoy him how slow I was writing and just the mere fact that he had to wait for a few moments before he got an answer he would also have to read first. He got the book, scanning over the words, before throwing me a look that screamed 'You cannot be this dumb.'