When Everything Fails (De Chavez #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY

song used in this chapter: terrified by katharine mcphee <3

CHAPTER TWENTY

IT WAS 9 a.m. when the program started. It was started with an opening prayer, followed by an opening message from our MAPEH teacher, and then he followed the criteria of the performance of each participant. I mentally noted all the things listed in there while deciphering the weakness and strengths we have for our performance. Hadn't I taken the different part to keep my heart from falling deeper into the abyss of the ridiculous notion of affection, I would be as confident as others. I glimpsed at Sue who was rehearsing with her partner. My forehead creased as I saw her glimpse at her side— where Kei was sitting. He was wringing his fingers while he was looking at something— at the throwaway cups splayed out on the table just meters away from him. His expression was blank; deep and consuming. I would certainly be drowned by the solidity of his thoughts swirling on top of his head.

All the participants were busy doing their last-minute practice. I glimpsed down at my fingers that were lazily dangling at my both sides. I couldn't even breathe near him, let alone talking to him. But I needed to do it; needed to act professionally. Our grades will be based on this performance and I wanted to snap my head off just thinking how I put my drama in here instead of setting it aside and dealing with it after this. I cannot undo the time, though. Instead of wallowing in the self-loathing party I noted do when this performance was over, I let a sigh rumble out of my throat. With a languid stride, I made a beeline toward Kei.

With the little distance, I intended to set between us; I stood right in front of him. My hands were behind me, wringing at each other as if they were in a match in UFC. I bit my lower lip as I swept my eyes from his toes to his breathtakingly beautiful face. He was ruggedly handsome, painfully beautiful. Beautiful in terms of ruggedness, rough and solid, strong and masculine. I didn't know but his shoulder broadened as if he took the Gym. The perfect cut of the polo across his shoulder was making all the women gawking at him. Tapering down from his broad shoulder was his perfectly fit waist. The fabric perfectly hugged him— not exaggeratedly but in terms that it punctuated its perfectly sculpted expanse of his body.

Oh God, he was so perfect!

I shook my head when I realized that I was spending too much time glorifying his body. I shouldn't be doing this— I was certainly objectifying his body at this moment and I couldn't help my mouth water as the vivid feeling of his tongue sweeping across my lips, reentering my mouth as if it has been his. My eyes widened when I saw his eyes flitted to mine. Mortification reflected in my eyes as I looked at him. I shimmied back, slightly fumbling for the scattered composure that pooled on my feet. His lips slightly parted when he found mine. For a moment, I saw the flash of easiness settled on his eyes but I dissipated right after as if it was just a hallucination made by my fucked up mind.

He immediately stood up. His chair toppled backward because of the extra force he exerted when he stood up. Probably the back of his knees hit the back, sending it backward. The clap of the chair against the tiled floor resonated inside, pulling some intrigued eyes from our classmates. When they saw us, some cleared their throat and got back to what they were doing.

My hands were fidgeting at my both sides now. I swallowed multiple times, trying to swallow the forming lump in my throat. I watched Kei as he smoothed his pants, running his fingers through his hair, sending some locks to languidly dangle over the middle of his forehead. I saw how his chest rises and falls the moment I stepped forward. My knees wobble as if it was a jelly placed in a fire.

"I guess we should do a last-minute practice," I murmured. I didn't know what had gotten into me since I could not pull my eyes off of him.

He swept his tongue on the bottom of his lips. He nodded. His expression was careful and guarded as if he was making sure that he won't say a word or do something that can make me move away from him. The thought melts some ice built around my heart. But not totally, of course.