[141] THE FOLLOW UP

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Would I have kissed back?

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MY FINGERS RATTLED softly against the desk in morning class, staring out the lofty window as literature was being taught

In truth, I was as far away from the classroom as a person climbing Mount Everest at this very moment.

No, I was not staring at the scenery below, on the grounds of the Crown that were no doubt beautiful, but instead, I had got lost in memories of my own.

Of what had happened barely an hour ago.

I was between strange feelings.

Part of me realized that I should be furious and to some extent I guess I was furious that Harvest used his dilect on me, even when he promised he wouldn't do it again, without punishment.

It was a clear violation of my mind, waltzing right into there, and somehow making sense of the feelings that I had buried deep inside me for fear of what I assumed they were.

I didn't want to realize it in the open, but now he had seen it.

He knew that I had been Jealous of Claire.

I didn't think he had noticed that I was upset earlier, and whilst I guessed he could spot my tears, his confirmation only made my heartburn.

And that was what was the most terrifying part of the strange feelings I was experiencing.

Because my heart didn't burn in anger but in warmth, lining the deep blush that I could feel against my hot cheeks, acknowledgment burning through my mind.

He wanted to choose me.

[I would choose you a thousand times, just so I could capture these eyes for a lifetime.]

I could feel the corners of my mouth curve in a timid smile.

And he said he wasn't a poet.

My smile widened, and I turned back to face the teacher, watching him blankly still entrapped in a mind of my own.

Those blue eyes of his were curses.

Just one look in them and I was glued to the spot. It honestly felt like he was looking into my soul more than he did my mind, and that was what seemed to keep me in place.

I thought of the way our fingers brushed, his hot heavy breath. I could still feel soft tingles from wherever his fingers brushed, pushing my chin upwards to lock in those Pacific prisons.

My mind replayed how his lips pressed against my forehead as if I was something dear to him- I paused at that thought, eyebrows drawing together when I thought of something he had asked me the previous time we were alone together.

My heart thudded inside me when the words resurfaced in my mind, dutifully accompanied by the vision of his defeated look, eyes searching in mine for what I could have only described as reason.

[If I had kissed you then, tell me, would you have kissed me back? Or are you too scared of me to see anything else?]

My heart thumped inside me.

Anything else? Like what?

The what-if Question. My brain kindly answered on my behalf and I could feel everything inside me freeze.

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