His Scars

7. Threats

This is a slightly longer chapter and one I didn't plan to get this intense. But it did. I am simply the messenger of the chaos that is my mind. 

Do comment and let me know what you're thinking. 

SAGE

I finally looked him right in the eyes. I hadn't actually planned it. I was a little surprised to see Matt and Kane already eating together.

Matt had felt like we were making Kane uncomfortable and was loath to push himself on the poor guy. Even Gina was a little hesitant. So, I wasn't expecting them to be eating together. I even saw them making conversation.

As we approached the table, Kane's eyes flickered to me.

I didn't force him into any conversation like I usually would have. To be truthful, the mindless chatter with my friends was taking my mind off the morning's events.

As Gina was talking my gaze settled on him. I found myself really examining him for the first time without the fear of being caught.

He was focused on his food. My eyes studied his features beyond the scars.

His skin was clear with the beginnings of a stubble. He had long lashes that fanned over his cheeks when he was looking down. He had his hood over his dark brown hair.

His lips were a light pink, the lower one just slightly fuller than the top one. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he chewed.

Just then, his eyes lifted to meet mine. For the first time, I didn't make myself focus on some other feature.

His eyes were a hazel colour with flecks of green on gold.

God, they were beautiful. They were deep and troubled. Sad. Strong. Anxious. Understanding.

I felt my heart trip as they stared unwaveringly back at me.

Then that eyebrow lifted in question. I couldn't stop the smile that bloomed on my lips.

When we walked back to class together, he didn't pay me any mind. He seemed resigned to my company.

My eyes stayed on him. His hood was no longer on, and I studied the back of his head and his shoulders. One hand was in his pocket while the other was wrapped around his books which he held at his side. His bag slung over one shoulder.

He really could make anything look cool.

When we reached class, he opened the door and walked in. He gave the door a gentle push to close after him. It was not enough force to really shut in my face, but to let me know he didn't want me following him.

I grinned and followed him anyway, taking my seat next to him.

I spent the next few classes I had with him stealing glances at him. The more I looked, the more there was to see.

His handwriting was neat and calculated, like he really thought about each alphabet before he wrote it out.

He twisted the pen in his long slender fingers when he was listening to the professor and tapped the tip of the pen against his lower lip when he was thinking.

I watched as he bit his lip, his focus on the lecture.

For the first time, I wondered what those lips would feel like. I wondered if I kissed him, would I feel his scar against my lips.

Realising the direction my thoughts were taking and that I was now openly staring at him, my cheeks filled with heat and my head whipped to face the board.