THESE HIDDEN WINGS

[62.1] THE JOB

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Harvest's bed. That sounded downright weird. It was a place I swore to myself I would never return to.

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I HAD FROZEN in place, feeling more out of it than I ever had before. My fingers were stiff around my pen as it hovered over the blank page I had opened it to, feeling them slightly shake when I felt his shadowy presence move from bare inches behind me until his figure came into view.

He dropped in a seat directly opposite me. My fingers shook again, resulting in the quick action of laying my pen on my notebook, then placing my hands on my lap hidden from view.

He stared at me for a few moments, and this time I somehow found the courage to bravely hold eye contact. It was like my body was getting used to that chilly feeling traveling down my spine every time our eyes locked.

He moved over the desk, sliding my notebook back to him before I could protest.

My eyes widened in hidden panic as he took it in his hands, reading everything that I had just written down.

My nails scratched against my palm in anticipation and certain anxiety about me as I watched his eyes trace over my words, his jaw ticking momentarily, as he flipped over through the pages, seeming to read each poem he came across which made me feel if anything, violated.

He was reading what had once been my private thoughts, and he didn't seem to care about what he was doing. Poetry was something that was personal to me and made me feel at ease.

I didn't like it when people read through my poetry, not even my mom.

See, whilst other girls had diaries, all I needed was poetry. Something about words hiding hidden meanings drew me into a state of calm and peace.

I felt hollow inside me when he glanced up at me, holding eye contact for a few more seconds before his eyes dropped back to my book, adjusting in his seat with a soft sigh.

I watched him for a few more seconds trying to ease myself before I suddenly felt a lot more self-conscious, feeling eyes on me from somewhere.

Looking around, I noticed the few other students around us were stealing glances our way.

This was bad.

This was very bad.

What if they told a friend, and that friend told a friend and somehow it eventually reached Daya?

I wasn't doing anything wrong, but would she see that?

"If you keep looking at them like your guilty and they'll keep thinking something's going on between us," Harvest warned.

My eyes snapped to him, landing on the side of his face still flipping through all my private thoughts, seeming engrossed in them.

After staring at him in frustration for a few more seconds and realizing he wasn't planning on talking to me any time soon, my eyes instinctively lingered back to the students that were now whispering over the table amongst themselves.

I started to feel more anxious, my heartbeat increasing softly with every second.

"For Pete's sake, I can't think with your heart pounding like a drum," Harvest snapped, throwing my notebook in front of me with a hard splat that brought my attention back to it, glancing at the book and then at him.

He rolled his eyes, got up from his seat, adjusting his signature black coat before walking away. I watched him disappear into one of the aisles, his coat trailing after him.