Emperor of Destruction [EDITING]

xxxvii.

XXXVII

I wasn't mentally prepared for another day of School again.

I noticed an usual amount of stares on me this morning. Peering over my shoulders, I didn't see Silas behind me. I stare ahead. The only time people acknowledge my presence is when Silas was around. Did I have something on my face? My hands instantly shot up, reaching for my face. Nothing was on my face. That made no sense, then why are they looking?

I made it to my locker, ignoring the faint whispers that surrounded me. It's too early for this. After unlocking my locker, I opened and slung my backpack on the hook. After grabbing my binder and textbook, I shut the locker door. My eyes caught sight of a tall figure behind me in the mirror seconds before it closed. A horrified gasp full of surprise and confusion shot out of me.

My body twisted around. I breathe a sigh of relief and slap Silas' chest with my hand, ignoring the hard-rock abs that lies behind his Uniform shirt. "You're such a dick." I told him, meaning every word.

He grabbed my wrist before I could hit him a third time,--pulling me closer, whispering in my ear, "Take that back and you just might get your fill tonight." His cold breath hit my skin and suddenly I feel awake.

Noticing the attention he attracted just by being here,—I push him away, distancing myself from him. I ignored the butterflies swarming in my stomach and focused on keeping my calm composure. I was blushing like a wild man inside and standing with a stoic expression as if his comment didn't make me feel things. Things I didn't want to feel.

Silas and I aren't from the same world. I had to remind myself that every morning I wake up. He has his people and I have mine.

Forbidden love never works out.

He grabbed my hand in his. "Skip first period with me. I know you didn't eat breakfast."

I shook my head. "I can't." You can,—you just don't want to, "I have an English test. I can't afford to miss it." I lied with a sweet, fake smile plastered on my lips. Oh, God, I was slowly turning into everything I hated. A liar and a Bitch. Mr. Peterson barely gives us tests, he prefers pop quizzes or nothing at all. I sure as hell didn't have a test today.

Suddenly the happiness on his face washed away, along with the smile I yearned to see everyday. His expression darkened and brows pulled together. "I had Mr Peterson last year. He almost never hands out tests."

I want to live a peaceful life. That means getting through High school without worrying about your Fanclub murdering me. With all the dirty looks they give me and hard hits with their shoulders, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if they were planning my death.

I wanted to say the first part. But I couldn't, so I lied—again, "Looks like he changed his tactic, because we have one. Today."

I felt my sweat trickle down my forehead, and silently prayed he wouldn't notice the beads forming. I shuffle under his piercing gaze, shifting from one foot to the other. Damn it, why does he have to be so observant? He continues to watch me with a head tilt and an unreadable look on his face. He's a closed book. Not an open one like me. I bet I look so suspicious right now, I've never been a good liar.