Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

You & Me and You & He

The following morning I arrive early to the Great Hall. Ridiculously early for a Sunday morning, in fact. But I haven't slept, not for a moment, and to say I'm agitated would be a gross understatement.

And so, here I am: early to the Great Hall not simply because I couldn't sleep, but also because it's the only place I can guarantee running across Evan. He'll be here for breakfast at some point, though I've no clue when.

... We need to talk, Evan.

I sit alone with my back rigid and my arms crossed, tea and breakfast roll completely forgotten in front of me.

I'm not hungry, I'm not thirsty. I'm not even tired, though by all rights I should be exhausted.

The only thing I am, the only thing I've been since last night, is perturbed.

A few moments past eight and I finally spot him, alone and hovering at the edge of the hall, leaning in as he quickly scans the room.

... He's doing the same thing I am. At least, I'd be willing to bet on it.

Sure enough, Evan's eyes find me. Straightening up, he freezes and gives me a very stiff nod of acknowledgment.

That'll be my cue, then.

Rising from my seat, I take a deep breath to fortify myself and then begin striding quickly towards him. And as I go, I watch him as intently as he watches me. Attempting to ignore the heat I feel rising within me as I approach, I force my face into what I hope is an uncompromisingly severe expression.

Coming to a stop before him, I suddenly can't stand to make eye contact. Crossing my arms over my chest defensively, I fix my eyes down towards the floor and lean in ever so slightly, just close enough for him to hear me hiss under my breath, "A private word. Right now."

"Yes."

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him turn and walk quickly down the hall and out the nearest door. Nodding to myself, my final effort to remain calm and collected, I follow after him.

It's a bitterly cold December morning, and as the icy air hits me, I tug at the sleeves of my jumper in an attempt to shield my exposed fingers from the brisk cold.

... Cold's uncomfortable, but cold also means isolation.

In other words, no one in their right mind will be out here.

We'll have the privacy we need to talk, the two of us.

Trailing after Evan, I follow him around the corner of a stone wall and come to an abrupt stop. Quickly glancing around, he murmurs tersely, "Here?"

"Here's fine."

A cold wind blows past us, and in the calm stillness that follows I pull idly at my sleeves and dare to raise my eyes back towards his, "Evan ..."

Sighing, he stares back at me, "Y/N."

Too much already -

I can't look you in the eyes.

Simply not possible.

Shaking my head, I avert my gaze. Leaning against the stone wall, I debate how best to begin this.

Just start talking. It's going to be a total mess, anyway, right?

So, whatever. Fuck it.

When I finally speak, even I catch the way my voice wavers, "Last night ... whatever that was. And don't you dare play dumb - you know exactly what I'm talking about."