Protecting The Bad Boy

Chapter Thirteen

I'll try and make these a/ns shorter (;

Picture of Jesse here!

Longer chapter. Ignore any mistakes, it's yet to be checked (:

Song of the Chapter; Borderline - Tove Styrke

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Chapter Thirteen; My Phone is My Child

My mind is whirling more than it did when I was learning circle theorems.

Translation; my mind is whirling an awful lot in this very moment.

I'm going over every possible scenario which could be taking place as I try to process my thoughts, and none of them are good.

Finally I arrive at the classroom, tucking my phone into my back pocket and pulling on the handle. Houston doesn't look up, his back leaning on a desk with his arms holding him up. He's biting his lip in concentration and his eyes look mistier than I've ever seen them.

I close the door behind me and push my back against it. A few moments of silence sweeps over us before I break it with my inquisitive tone.

"Well?" I start, "are you going to tell me what happened?"

For the first time since I've entered the room, Houston looks up at me. Although he's not really looking at me, more like focusing on the wall behind me.

His jaw sets momentarily before he extends his arm and holds out his phone out for me to take. Hesitantly I walk over to him, slowly grasping the phone from between his fingers.

"It's unlocked already," he states as he goes back to looking at the board at the front of the classroom.

I don't say anything as I glance down at the phone to see a text from an unknown number. Again.

Houston, be a dear and pass this on that pretty little bodyguard of yours: you may have gotten him this time, but trust us when we say that we'll find him. We'll claim what's ours, soon enough. See you both soon.

An involuntary shiver runs up my spine, this was all happening too fast.

Obviously a nice first thought would be to run, to freak the fuck out because let's face it; we are being chased by lethal bad guys who are solely trained to kill.

But no, I have to think logically. It would certainly all go downhill from here if we were to panic, if we were to react.

That's it, that's what they want. Suddenly the pieces begin clicking together in my head as my training experiences come back to me. This is an action used to obviously provoke us and hope that it sends our world into chaos; fortunately for us they still didn't believe that I have what it takes to pull it off.

Oh, but I do.

I blow air out of my mouth as I place Houston's phone down on the desk next to him, turning to leave the classroom.

"Wait, where are you going?" Houston's voice stops me and I swivel around with a confused look painted on my face.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving to get food, I'm starving."

"Fuck, what are you doing Cynthia? Aren't yo-," he corrects himself, "we going to do something about this?" He gestures to his phone to emphasise his point but I can't help but notice how strange my voice comes off his tongue. It doesn't take a genius to realise that he doesn't call me by the stupid nickname when he's angry, frustrated or confused. Strangely, it unsettled me.

"Nothing." I answer simply.

His eyes widen slightly as his full lips part. "Are you kidding, are you fucking pulling my leg?" The pitch of his voice rises slightly and the apples of his cheeks slightly dust with redness.