ALL THE WORDS WE COULDN'T SAY

F O U R T E E N

<mentions of sexual abuse>

I think I just made a very fucking big mistake.

What the fuck was I thinking agreeing to this?

Maybe because he's a fucking genius?

I had now put myself in a position where I'd have to tolerate Killian's presence. As if attending the same universe wasn't bad enough.

He was doing well sticking by the rules. He'd gone through my syllabus and took down a couple of notes. I made sure to keep my eyes fixed on the paper, rather than letting them glide over the flexing of his forearm as he wrote. The fuck was wrong with me? They're just arms!

Typical Libertine. He probably thought he was meeting with a girl who was actually willing to sleep with him. No wonder he wore a black, fitted t-shirt and complimenting jeans. His chocolate hair seemed the same as it was before, although now longer and untamed as it curled at his ears, shaped into a small mullet. I wondered where his glasses went. Was he wearing contact lenses? Or maybe his parents had gotten him laser eye surgery. Was that cologne he was wearing? He definitely knew how to take care of his appearance to woo the girls he'd fuck in his accom. If only they knew what he was like just five years ago because it certainly wasn't this handsome, jaw-defined, blue-eyed, expert kisser that could suddenly drop panties.

Wait... did I just call Killian Hayes handsome? Panty-dropping handsome?

"Persy?"

"What?" I snapped out of my daze. Fuck. Had I been staring at him?

"I said can you give me a copy of your previous marks?" Shit. I had been staring at him.

"Uhh yes. Here." I pulled out a sheet of my scores from my bag.

I couldn't ignore the parallels between us now and us at fifteen. Except now it was like we'd switched places. Had I become the person I hated?

He looked at me, looked down at me. Was this how I looked at him back when I was the tutor? "You're grades aren't terrible. I see you're good at oral exams but it's the essays that seem to stump you. I have a couple of techniques that can help you with that."

"Okay," I replied.

He seemed unsure of what to say next. "So... I will make a plan when we next meet up."

'When we next meet up'?

Oh...

He wants your phone number, idiot.

I tore off the corner of a page on my notepad before scribbling down my number and handing it to him. Without saying anything, I picked up my shit and left.

•

It didn't take long for Killian to get the hang of kissing. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it just a little bit. It was cute how he'd blush profusely. The way his hands slightly trembled as they touched me like he was scared I'd break.

We'd gotten high again at Lake Murphy.

"I'm still afraid, Thomas. What if Christoph or my father come for you? I can't live knowing they might hurt you."

Killian turned my head to look into his eyes. The high made it feel like I was swimming in the depths of the ocean. "Vivi... It doesn't matter what happens to me. You've gone through so much, you've beaten the odds. I could die tomorrow and be content with my life."

"No! Don't say such things. It breaks my heart when you do."

Directed by the script, he pulled his fingers through my hair and examined the strands intently. As his eyes shift towards my lips, he started to stretch his neck more and more until we finally connected.