Bitter Sweet Blaire: Teacher/Student Romance

Chapter Thirty-One

31.

A/N: Oh my gosh, chapter thirty one, what the hell! It's nearly over! (Minus the editing part at least.) In fact, I'm already looking at exploring other story ideas, but this one remained near and dear to my heart. The first story I've truly seen through, I've fallen in love with my characters, and I hope you have too! I'm sorry this update was so long, I had break, then writer's block, and then I just had to wait for that 10,000 reads mark!!! This one's a long one in case you hadn't noticed, though I have it on very good authority you're going to enjoy it... It still needs a bit of work, I'm not sure it's precisely what I imagined all the way back from the start, but that'll be in the major edit at the end.
So without further ado, chapter 31...

Somehow I managed to fall asleep that night. I only knew this because I woke up a few hours later, it being about seven-thirty, when there were a few bangs and a crash as something fell to the floor.

"Ryan?" I heard Caroline say into the darkness.

"Yeah, it's me," my brother, grumbled back, and by the sound of it he was getting back to his feet. What a heartthrob.

"Well can you go be 'me' somewhere else?" I growled drowsily, throwing a pillow at him. He threw it back, not realising I was on the other side of Caroline's bed, so it hit Miranda in the face. She only sighed, then buried her face in it so it muffled the scream that came very soon after.

There was a giggle from Caroline as a figure jumped onto her bed and straddled her. "I'm serious. If you don't get out of here, I'm leaving."

"Go. What do I care?"

Happy birthday to me.

Unfolding the blanket, I dragged my limp body out from underneath it, and strolled over to the door, stealing Caroline's jumper in the process. Wheeling around, I continued my exit backwards, so that I could poke my tongue out at him for as long as possible. Only just had I closed the door when I bumped into something behind me.

"Blaire?"

"Christian," I sighed. I hadn't seen him since he'd holed himself up in the guest room after he had punched his father. I hadn't seen him since he walked away from me.

"No, no, the pleasure's all mine," he shot back, stealing my role as the ray of sarcastic sunshine in the house.

Shifting my weight onto my other foot, I folded my arms securely across my chest. Instantly, Christian averted his gaze downwards. I followed suit. It didn't take me very long to figure out what had attracted his attention; especially since he was using one of his hands to move the hem of my shirt and my jumper up near my hip. In folding my arms, I'd exposed a flash of my underwear.

"No pants?"

I clenched my teeth. "Don't."

"Lace," he breathed.

"Christian!" I growled.

"Blaire--"

"You left me, remember? You walked away first, I know what that means," I said flatly, tugging at the bottom of my shirt. Christian ran a hand through his hair, finally releasing the breath he had been holding onto. That was what you did when you were around people of whom you couldn't have stealing your breath away; you held it out of their reach.

"Blaire's up!" Hilary yelled from the top of the staircase, making me jump. "Come downstairs, mums making breakfast!" I was about to ask who she was yelling at when everybody started piling out of the bedrooms and toward Christian and me. He pulled me into him so that I was out of the way of the stampede.

"Thanks," I muttered, because I was angry, not ungrateful.

I grabbed the jeans that were hanging on the banister and tried my best to ignore Christian watching me while I did the usual get-up to get into the damn things. He followed me downstairs, to find that we were the only two missing. They all yelled at me simultaneously, so all that I could make out were many 'happy birthdays.'