Page 31

Or, and the highest probability, was a physical reaction caused by the deluge of information I received about the witches. I’d much experience when it came to processing stress and anxiety, but the human condition was a unfavorable against me when it came to ripping away the curtains shielding my eyes since birth. I made a mental note to ask Huff if he knew of any books in the library that might help us.

Twenty minutes later, I sat on my couch and arranged my meal on the coffee table. Hunger licked at my stomach lining, the scent of the bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwich I ordered worsening the sensation. I had a couple tasks to finish before I devoured my dinner. With this idea in mind, I set an alarm for tomorrow morning. I had my first, and only, in-person class tomorrow, it wouldn’t do to be late. I sighed, picking up my journal and writing a few that circulated my brain during the drive.

I want him.

I crossed out the statement and continued penning my thoughts.

Yes, I want him, but there will never be anything more between us than that. Why not enjoy ourselves while trying to stop a coven full of evil witches sounds like a great time. Maybe I can put it on my résumé

I rolled my eyes at myself.

I think I’ve spent too much time around Bane and Monstera, their upbeat little comments are rubbing off on me.

Sleep hung over me, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee leading me to the kitchen, as if the scent had tangible hands that beckoned me closer with a curl of its fingers. I slowly blinked heavy eyelids at the coffee pot, moving on muscle memory and tilting the carafe over the mug I set out last night, the fog of dreams weighing on limbs.

After several moments, realization dawned as I blinked sleepily at the still empty mug, then glanced at the suspended coffee pot, yet no dark liquid streamed from the spout no matter how hard I stared.

Uhhh, I know I smelled coffee, nothing else would drag me out of bed that easily.

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands, placing the carafe back in place and tilted the mug. Nope, still not filled with my delicious brew. My brain struggled to comprehend, exhaustion preventing a logical stream of conscious thought.

A yawn broke the quiet morning, my jaw cracking loud enough to be heard over the hum of the air conditioning unit.

Eh, fuck it. It’s too early to care.

I sniffed, following my nose to the living room, tilting my head and eyeing the familiar pastry bag and to go cup of coffee sitting on the end table. Stomping to the items, my bare feet thudded against the thick carpet and I huffed, irked the well-made fibers muffled the sound so well. I couldn’t quite make myself be grateful I didn't have to figure out breakfast and had found the source of my frustrations.

I frowned. “I can make my own goddamn coffee.”

Thoughts trickled into my brain, their arrival slow as the drip of molasses.

I froze, one hand already in the bag closed around some form of baked good and the other holding the to-go cup to my lips, heat from the liquid within warming my face as I swallowed. Where did this all come from?

But it was too late to change my mind.

I moaned as the thought vanished, the taste of a perfectly made coffee, doctored with cream and sugar exactly how I liked it. It flowed over my taste buds, the first scorchingly hot sip scalding my throat just like the day before. Lowering the cup, my lips pursed.

Just like the day before…

Suspicion crawled beneath my skin, bringing me to awareness much faster than my beloved caffeine. I took a cautious glance around my apartment but didn’t spot any traces of anyone or anything out of place. Taking another sip, I tugged my hand from the pastry bag, a jumbo double chocolate chip muffin still clutched in my grasp, my fingers partially smushing its soft top. The hairs on my forearms rose as my eyes lighted on a folded piece of sky-blue paper I must’ve missed in my sleep addled state.

I opened the note, scowling at the messy scrawl that greeted me, and my heart skipped a beat. My lips tugged down as I acknowledged, despite the chaotic penmanship, I wouldn’t be able to read the message either way, for Heechu runes stained the paper in black ink. I scanned the note, my unease waning, curiosity and the desire to learn shoving to the forefront.

My brows tilted together as I took huge bite of muffin and noticed something out of place on the bottom right side of the note, something warming my chest as my suspicions dissipated completely as I surveyed a jagged letter “B”. Tapping my middle finger on the backside of the note, I turned it over and smoothed a finger over the reversed singular letter indenting the paper as if written painstakingly.

I stood, mysterious breakfast in hand and pulse throbbing in my ears, an emotion that had no business forming battering me for attention. Nevertheless, no doubt courtesy of the caffeine I’d ingested, I steadfastly succeeded in pretending it didn’t exist.

I spent the remainder of time I had before class getting dressed and performing my usual morning routine. Thirty minutes later, I left my apartment and headed across campus, finishing my muffin and drinking my coffee along the way.

Crossing into the lecture hall, I admired the thick wooden beams creating the stellar vaulted ceiling, somehow not tripping over my feet, and climbed to the top row. My lip curled as I swiftly peeled off my backpack and grimaced at the way my t-shirt clung to my skin with a light sheen of sweat. Blowing out a breath, I laid down my head and checked my watch, the cool, dark wooden surface of my desk meeting my overheated cheek.

Excellent, I can fit in a ten-minute nap.

My eyes closed, the telltale sounds of rustling clothes and whispered conversations indicating more students arriving and taking their seats filtering through the room.

I startled upright, my elbow knocking into the to-go cup I set down on the edge of my desk as a craggy, despondent voice woke me. My hands fumbled with the wobbling coffee, barely catching it before it could spill—a grievous waste I would certainly not allow.

Inhaling and exhaling evenly several times, I focused on the front of the room. My eyes widened and heart stuttering as I observed the two men crossing walking into the classroom.