Eventually, I calm myself in the shower, but I just need a minute away from this life. I decide to get dressed and go out. I walk out of the bedroom dressed in my running gear, but I don’t feel like running today. I stuff my earbuds in and stalk through the apartment. I pass Xav. He has his head in his laptop, and I see him glance up, but I don’t speak. I just leave.
I walk down the street. I’m heading to the park. There’s a bench there out of the way under the canopy of the trees, and I like to go and sit there, watch the world go by from a distance. The smell of the outside comforts me; it makes me feel less chaotic, and I like to contemplate the idea of being just a normal girl.
I walk past the shops, and I’m so lost in getting where I’m going that I’m not focusing. I know I’m not, and for me, that’s so dangerous. I’m always on highalert, always on guard in case the enemy pops up. I’m always balancing on a knife’s edge, although I always look nonchalant. But today, Father… everything’s just fucked. I can’t help but just get where I’m going, to breathe in that air and calm my centre.
I yell out as I collide with someone, and there’s a stinging hot sensation that engulfs my hand. I yelp and jump back. More out of complete panic than pain, as I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I didn’t even see anyone.
“Oh my God, I’m so, so sorry.” My hand is wrenched away from my chest, which is where I must have yanked it and clutched it with my other one. “Quick, we need to get that under cold water.”
My eyes flutter up, and I gasp. I meet the most mesmerising vision of a man. He’s clutching my hand in his as he turns, pulling me towards the coffee shop, and I let him. He drags me through the coffee shop and straight into the disabled toilet. He pulls my hand under his arm, and my front crashes against his solid form. My other hand comes up and rests on his back to stop my face from slamming into him as well. He stands in front of the sink and turns the tap on cold, tugging my hand to the water and pulling me tighter against him.
I feel myself relax my cheek against his solid back, and his smell calms me. He smells like the outdoors, like trees and fresh-cut grass, clean and crisp. I breathe him in and close my eyes as he twists and turns my hand under the running water. It’s numb, cold, freezing almost. I can’t feel anything anymore. I think my fingers twitch, but it’s hard to tell, and while I feel nothing in my hand and my fingers, it’s like the rest of me is on fire.
I try to calm my breathing, and I breathe him in. I’m sure he can feel my heart pounding out of my chest. Neither of us speaks as he continues to run my hand under the tap, and I just hold myself against his back and try not to stroke him. I feel like I’m having an out-of-body experience. I feel lightheaded, and the cold is seeping into my bones, but where he’s touching me, the contact burns, it tingles, and I feel an overwhelming sense of calm and inner peace. And I want to hold onto that so bad. I want to hold onto him forever.
And all too soon, he turns, and I jolt in surprise. He glares down at my throbbing hand, more from the cold than the heat, and he worries at his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. His plump, pink, luscious lips entice me as he pops his lip from between the confines of his teeth. He licks across them, making them glisten, and his mouth seems so inviting that I want to lean up and lick it myself. I start to lean in before I realise what the fuck I’m doing and pull back, pulling my hand from his grip. His dark blue eyes flick to mine; they’re like the darkest blues, like staring into a bottomless ocean.
He stutters out, “I’m so, so sorry. Let me take you to A & E. Maybe you should get that looked at.” I meet his gaze but shake my head. I take a deep breath, hoping my voice won’t betray me when I breathe out.
“It’s okay. I’m fine, thank you.”
He steps back, creating a rush of frigid air between us, and I shudder and clutch the cold hand to my chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper out.
I turn and scurry out of there. When I get around the corner, I rest my back against the cold brick wall and tilt my head to the floor as I rest my hands on my kneesand try to breathe. It takes me a little while to stop the swaying feeling that’s seeping through every cell of my body, and as I steady myself and step out from my hiding place, I see the guy walk back out from the coffee shop with a fresh drink, and I don’t know why, and I’m not sure how, but I place one foot in front of the other and fall into step with the mystery man who made my heart flutter from his single act of kindness and his burning touch.
I hang back and follow at a distance, but I want to know who he is and where he’s going. I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from the back of his head, with his dirty blonde hair. It’s dishevelled, as if he’s been running his fingers through it. I’m hit with a pang of… jealousy, maybe. It’s not something I’ve felt before. Still, I can’t help but hope it’s not another woman who’s been running her fingers through his hair. I picture her, and I picture myself removing every finger that’s touched him, that caressed every inch of his skin, and then I want to gouge the possibly non-existent woman’s eyes out for being able to gaze upon him. I smirk to myself. “Not without fucking eyes, she won’t.”
He heads towards the university and climbs the big stone steps. He stops and turns to look out across the neatly trimmed lawn and around the blooming flower beds, taking a sip of his coffee before pushing inside the main building's large, heavy wooden doors.
I head towards the building, slip in through the door, and glance around. This is the main foyer, and there’s a reception desk on the back wall. My eyes dart around the tall space as every sound echoes around the walls. There’s a second story, and as I glance up, I seehim walking past in the opposite direction. I just pause and wait till I see him disappear inside a door.
I turn and rush to the lifts at the opposite end of the hall, before following him where I last saw him vanish. I peek through the door as I reach the room he ventured into. I don’t know how long I stand there before there’s a slight cough, I spin to meet a young woman’s gaze.
“You going in?”
I shake my head and step back. She huffs and steps past me. There are soon small groups of people exiting the lifts and heading towards me, so I step back out of the footfall and rest against the wall. I wait for a few stragglers and stop a young-looking guy as he steps towards the door.
“Hey, what class is this?”
“Computer science.”
“What’s the professor's name?”
“Mr Hall. Jacob.”
I lean towards the door and point to the raised dais at the end of the room. “Is that him?”
He nods, and I step back, allowing him into the room. I pull out my phone and do a few basic searches while I make my way outside to find a place to… watch.
I prop myself in the back behind the foliage and sit and wait. It’s a few hours, and I watch people coming and going before Jacob exits the building. As he stands at the top of the steps. I take him all in. He’s wearing Converse and dark blue fitted jeans. A white shirt with a knitted striped vest and a dark blue blazer over the top. The collar of his shirt is open, and he has a brown leather satchel slung across his body. His dirty blondehair is still dishevelled, and he’s wearing dark-rimmed glasses that make him look intelligent and fucking sexy.
He strolls across the lawn of the university and heads out away from campus. He takes his time, talks to students, and steps like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s so free, and he’s breathtaking. I can’t take my eyes off him. I step out of my hiding place and follow him towards the coffee shop.
He exits with a coffee in one hand and a newspaper tucked under his arm. I wait around the same corner I did this morning and duck out of view as he walks towards me. I slip out behind him again and follow him to his house.
The street is nice, quiet, family-oriented, with nice gardens and driveways. There is nothing overly ostentatious, but it is a quiet road that feels peaceful and serene. My gut sinks at the thought that Jacob may have a wife, a family. I grimace at the thought, clenching my fists at my sides and trying to calm my breathing.
