10 - Boyish Book

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His phones vibrates on the sheets. His eyes show seriousness but his mouth is still stuck in a pout. I restrain myself to push him harder. I watch him writing back, I catch the emojis from his respondent. Who uses that many emojis? I peel my back off the pillow to have a better look at the screen.

I can't read anything in wolf. A bunch of swirls and dots are all I see. His exchanges messages back and forth with the emoji guy. When his fingers stop, I frown and look up. He's staring right back, only his pout has been replaced with a small smile. His fingers switch to the note app.

« Want learn? » there's hope in his eyes, I shrug in response. Learning their language doesn't matter because I don't plan on staying. However, showing interest could lower his guard and actually learning could be an advantage. Even if only it's only reading, no human was able to translate it to my knowledge.

« Sure. » I eventually answer fully, learning their language could help in the war. Plus it gives me something to do, instead of just waiting around. He might even leave me alone for a bit. He rises from the bed and heads to the study.

I follow his steps, wincing at the cold floor. When I catch up to him, his hands is turning the knob, but he doesn't push it open. I raise my head to check on him. There's a wide smile, on his lips, even his eyes sparkle like a child.

« What? » I frown again, wolves are really hard to understand. Having to look up just a bit to see him fully gets on my nerves. His smile turns smug, he even puts his nose in air a little. He shrugs but I can see well that something is going on. My hands twitch to shove him, to get an answer but I curl fingers to stop the thought.

I swear I hear him snicker when he finally opens it. Though I can't see his face with his back turned, I catch the slight shake of his shoulders anyway. He rummages through the book shelves, index grazing the covers. I stare at the laptop. The back of the screen glares back, a book is shoved to my stomach.

I ignore the warmth of his fingers, conveniently grazing my shirt. I look down once he lets go. The hard cover is heavy and thick. Smooth dark red surface and a title in wolf. I look at him suspiciously, he stares back, looking happy. I move to the sofa, eager to put my feet off the cold wooden floor. I shove him on the way there.

Of course he barely moves and my shoulder stings at the impact. Fuck. I try not to show that it hurts, clutch my teeth together to keep the groan inside. Fuck the guy. I don't even look at his face, so that he doesn't see the embarrassment building up. I sit on the sofa, turn to bend my knees, feel the soft material under my feet.

The book is heavy on my lap, I open it. I get past the summary in wolf, can see him in the corner of my eyes. He's pulling at his fingers, putting his weight on a foot then on the other. I ignore him. After a few pages I most definitely can't read, I get to a part with English.

My brows furrow, this is a book meant for them to learn English. I see writing, elegant notes on the pages, are they his? I let my finger grazes them, the slight indent the letters have put on the pages. When I look up to ask, I just find him standing there, looking at my fingers. There's red on his cheeks, I turn around with a sigh.

I push my legs to my chest, head resting on my knees because the room is even colder than the bedroom. I flip back the pages, land on the first with English. Pronouns lay in a table, opposed to wolf. Single characters, so they don't have letters? Or are they sounds? I pull my hand up to scratch my forehead.

Before it has time to get there, I'm blinded my a cover. A plaid? Immediately surrounded by heat and the heavy soft cream blanket, I use my pulled up hand to take it off my face. It's big and even swallows part of the sofa. It's definitely welcome but a heads up would have been nice.

I don't have in me to glare under the smothering plaid. I look at him, there's not blush this time, but there's a smug look. His nose is high in the air, shoulder squared and hands on his hips. He doesn't seem as tired now. But I haven't heard him move, I wasn't so immersed in the book. I can't heard him move. I set the slight fear aside, look back at the book.

I try to memorize the characters of the pronouns, they look simple enough. I feel a slight poke on my foot. I ignore it, try to curl so I can hide my feet under the heavy cover. I could use paper, maybe trying to write them down will help. My knee is nudged next.

« What? » I whip my head to him, he's standing right by the edge of the sofa, the height difference doesn't help but make him intimidating, even with the pout on his lips. He points at himself, even dances on his feet a little. I turn back.

« What is it? » I don't hide the annoyance in my voice when he nudges my shoulder this time. He uses both hands, points one at the blanket and the other at him. He looks annoyed too.

« What? Want a thank you kiss? An applause? » I let the words out like curse. Only realize my sentence when his irritated look turns to embarrassed, to wanting. I feel my eyes open wide, mortified at what I said.

I hide my face behind my book, hopes his takes it as confirmation this was not an invitation. He moves quickly, hides his face from view too with hands on his cheeks. He sits at the desk, takes papers and raises them in a way can't see him either.

I still catch the red on his ears, but I feel my flush too. How many times do I have to embarrass myself today? I want to punch myself in the face but that would make me look like an idiot too. I let my fingers grazing the cover of the book, still shielding my face.

« Thank you. » I want to change the energy of the room, I whisper the words, know he can hear them anyway.

Because when he looks back up surprised, he forgets to take the papers with him. The smile splits his face, in that moment he looks happy, so happy. Delighted even, as if he was given the greatest of prizes.

I look away, hide against the book because I'm smiling back like an idiot, small and shy smile. I feel something stir in me. In my stomach. I pat it under the blanket, try to smooth out the fabric, as if it'd help the feeling fade away. He looks handsome when he smiles, a boyish look.

My neck itches again, stronger this time, his phones buzzes. 

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hi, let me know if you spot errors in language :)

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