Vulnerable: Book 1 of the Magic Mutations Series | ✓

5: Screw Instincts

I set up my station.

Book in the middle, pens to the right, pencil case to the left, laptop to the front.

Then I got up and headed into the aisles, looking for texts on unicorns today. Because why not? A horse to run away from things on, but also with a weapon on its head to spear people it doesn't like. Sounded great to me.

As I browsed the titles, head tilted to the side to read the spines, I could feel his presence nearby.

The library was so quiet, I could almost hear the turning of pages and fingers tapping on keyboards from those near us.

Nonetheless, I didn't hear him approach behind me. Rather, it was more like I felt it. His footsteps had made no noise, his breath seemingly absent in the still air around us.

But there was this vague aura of being watched... of the crashing of waves trying to pull me in.

When I turned around, happy with my selection of texts, I hadn't expected him to be that close though.

Coming to a stop just before I ran into him, my eyes stayed fixated on his black shirt, unable to look at his face.

I could feel the burn of his gaze looking down on me.

However, before I had a chance to ask him to move out of the way, he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Caving, I let my eyes meet his, fully prepared to dismiss him. But the torment that echoed in the blue stopped me in my tracks. "You have nothing to be sorry for," I said in a low voice, stepping to the side to walk around him, not wanting to start an argument with someone who looked that sad... but also not capable of being whatever he needed right now to battle his own demons. I was in enough pain...

Evidently, he felt bad about standing me up. But the fact that he felt the need to apologise to me... well, it was clear that this was not all some miscommunication or that something came up. He was apologising because he had done the very thing I feared: he stopped coming because he had gotten what he wanted.

I knew then that I didn't want to get involved with someone whose consistency was already this unreliable, which was why I was doing my best to avoid him.

But he had stepped along with me, stopping me from leaving.

Peering at him again, a flicker of annoyance set in. "Excuse me," I said bitterly.

"I know I shouldn't be seeing you again, but... I can't help it," he whispered, a cacophony of indistinguishable emotions swirling in his iridescent blue eyes that had me plunging back into their depths the longer I stared.

"Maybe you should listen to what your instincts are telling you," I challenged, trying my best to not fall into his crashing waves again. I was stronger than this... I had to be stronger than this.

"Screw instincts. I... I..." he stammered.

"You what?" I demanded, shifting my weight to one foot and my books to the other arm, getting tired of their growing heaviness.

Noticing this, he gently pulled a couple books from the top, holding them in both hands as he looked to the ground. "I enjoy talking to you. And I know it's not right to say that considering I didn't even tell you I wouldn't show up. And I know I should have stayed gone because you'd be much better off not getting mixed up in my mess but—"

I cut him off. "Save the story about how much of an archetypal bad boy you are for the books."

His eyes met mine once more, shock replacing his previous expression. "I'm not necessarily a bad person... My life is just really... complicated."