THESE HIDDEN WINGS

[14.1] LUCAS BOWNE

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"Did I mention that you tried to kill me?"

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IT TOOK ME a moment to see through the darkness to the tiny lights, but my gaze was first to be trapped in the hazel eyes peering down at me, balanced by a taunting smirk.

"There are easier ways.  I cannot die falling from this height, I assure you. And even if it was possible, there is the mess you'll have to think about," the boy chuckled

I quickly let go of the ladder, stepping back, my eyes wide as the boy descended the ladder. My fingers were shaking; I would like to think it was because of the slight shock.

The boy was about two steps away from landing when he paused, his full face now clearly visible with his intimidating height despite being two steps higher.

My eyes widened as I recognized him. He had light brown hair that tumbled down to his shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and olive skin, paired with curious hazel eyes. One thing ran through my mind at the moment.

I truly was unlucky.

He looked down at me, squinting as if remembering something,

"I know you," he said, one finger in the air pointing at me.

Shoot me now.

He jumped down the last steps, standing in front of me, arms folding and I avoided gaping at his muscles,  a smirk plastered on his face, "Yeah," he grinned, "crazy locks, from yesterday."

My breath hitched.

Crazy locks? Who the heck was that?

He nodded as if I confirmed something, a chuckle escaping his unique features,

"Yeah, that was you. Long white gown, wild hair?" he trailed off, his grin widening, and his eyes gleaming through the poor lighting. "I saw you with Daya yesterday. You're the new girl. The new roommate."

I fought the urge to close my eyes and die. So much for going through my lame form of high school as a normal kid.

Nope, I had been dubbed crazy locks.

I was sure he wasn't the only one who had named me that. My memory flashed back to the group of guys I had seen him with. This couldn't be good.

No Sir. I prayed to whatever force shaped our universe to cut me some slack on this one.

"Lucas Bowne," he introduced, sticking out a hand.

I glanced at it for a second, still out of it, before he cleared his throat. My mouth shaped into an O, reaching out to shake it. He was strangely very warm, and his large hand engulfed mine like an oversized glove.

We shook hands for an awkward second as I realized this was the first time, I had shaken hands with a boy who wasn't a delegate's son or a relative.

Certainly, the first time I shook hands with a boy as good-looking as this, that was for sure. It could be why my fingers still had a slight shake, and why my heart had refused to stop thundering.

He raised an eyebrow, leaning down to my height, as he pulled me gently forward.

"This is the part where you give me your name," he whispered lowly above my ear.

I snapped out of my daze, now realizing the little problem I had. He let go of my hand, and it fell uselessly to my side. I could pull out my notebook and give it to him, but then he would know I couldn't speak, and I would be given that look by the first normal boy I had ever met.