Bold Love

Chapter 12 - I'm sorry

Y/N's POV

I don't look forward to seeing her, still not getting a handle of yesterday's situation. Of course, I know that I did the exact same thing to her, but her being the one to cause it was entirely different.

I felt so helpless not being the one in control, pressed against the wall, her body trapping mine. Like a scene out of a damn novel.

I awkwardly shift in my seat, my hands feeling sweaty as I clamp them into tight fists. The lecture hall fills itself with students, clutching their books in one hand and in the other holding the recognizable cups of coffee from the café, filling the room with a pleasant smell.

But even that can't calm my nerves, my eyes shifting between the door and the still empty desk in front of the white boards.

The situation is like a déjà vu all over again only that after a week later my heart pounds in anticipation of seeing a different professor.
Even though I still can't decide if I want to see her, surrounded by a full class of gossiping people who would instantly jump on the rumors when they would hear about yesterday's encounter.

But that can never happen. Like she said, it would ruin her reputation and mine most likely too.

"Are you alright, y/n?" James taps me against my shoulder, his eyes staring at me with curiosity. The gray beanie pulled deeply in his face, reflecting his hate for early classes, sleepless eyes observing me.

I swallow. "Yeah."

"Really? Doesn't seem like it." Louis jumps into the conversation, mentioning with a finger to my balled fists, the posture practically screaming nervousness as one can see the whites of my knuckles showing.

I instantly relax my hand, opening my palm and laying it flat on the desk. Subtle move.

With a scolding look, I turn to Louis. Why must he be so observant? Before I can say anything to him, James pulls my attention back to him as he lets out a slight chuckle.

"I noticed that too. It seems like someone has other things on their mind," he teases, "Here let me feel your hand."

He moves his hand to grab mine. I duck away from him, hand again balled into a fist, but not to hide any emotions, but rather to let them out on his face. The space is not big, since Louis sits laughing beside me, both of them surrounding me.

"No. Don't be dumb." I bite out, seeing that he seriously doesn't make a move to stop his childish behavior.
Ready to slap some sense into him, he catches my hand in mid-flight.

"Ugh, James, I said no."

After a second, he already drops it, shaking his own hand in disgust.

"Eww. They're sweaty."

I roll my eyes. "Your own fault, dumb head."

"Are you nervous?" Louis asks, eyebrow raised at me. His eyes hold curiosity in them and something I can't recognize.

I don't feel like continuing this conversation, the boys clearly getting on my nerves, resulting in a headache that I feel nearing, a painful pull in my head.

Not what I need.

My sketchbook neatly lies on my desk, giving me the perfect opportunity to just ignore them. As I begin to draw on the paper, I feel James' presence - again too close - against my side.

"Is it because of a certain someone who is supposed to walk in the room? Maybe a blonde woman?" He whispers in a hushed tone, his voice barely audible to her.

Under my lashes, I gaze at him from the side, noticing the amused glint in his eyes.

Waiting a bit longer than I should for my response, the corner of his mouth tucks into a grin.