Furtive

Chapter 1

Wednesday 12th January

With a soft, tender touch, she pulled the covers up to the child's shoulders, cocooning him in the warmth under the sheets. The child's room was dimly lit: the nightlight cast a soothing glow beside the bed. She leans in and whispers: 'Goodnight Alex, sleep well, dont let the bedbugs bite.' with a smile. She walks away leaving his room, shutting the door. She walks down the hallway where reiterate images of Alex and his dad hung on the wall with the exuberance. The young girl walked down the stairs to the man from the images on the wall - waiting for her.
'I appreciate you on short notice looking after him Morgan, this late too, it means a lot' with an appreciated smile, his hand brushed on her arm. Morgan looks up at him, smiling 'It's okay Sir i'll see you tomorrow." He opens the door guiding her outside onto the cobbled pavement, smiling and waving bye to her.

Morgan sat on the worn seats of the bus aside the occasional shuffles of passengers, faint rustles of newspapers and low hums of conversations. The rhythmic sway of the bus left her gazing out the windows into drab glimpses of the lul. Pressing the stop button, the bus passing her neighbourhood.

Returning home to a heavy silence - she looked to her left in the living room. Seeing her drunken father laid back in  asleep with empty cans scattered beside the chair. Staying quiet, taking her coat and shoes off, leaving the shoes beside the door - hanging her coat on the peg against the cracked wall. On cold wooden floors, down the hallway to the kitchen she goes. Opening the fridge to alcohol and parts of leftovers. She doesn't take anything. Instead she goes to her room; turning the rustic handle on her door tardily so it doesn't wake up her father, she gets dressed into joggers and climbs into bed. Wrapping the blanket over her causing her to be stiffened up to her neck trying to keep warm.

Thursday 13th January

While waking down the crowded corridor to her next class - history. Morgan's friend Faye starts to tease her about babysitting Mr Owens child Alex. Faye grinning at her, teasing her 'All i know Morgan is that you're not babysitting for the money, he's hot.' Morgan gave Faye an uncomfortable look, she didn't know how to react to that. It wasn't wrong. Morgan knew he was attractive but she also knew its strange to think of a teacher in that way. 'Im not wrong am i? Morgan.' Faye said while trying to get on her nerves. Morgan raised her voice and snapped: 'Yes. You're entirely wrong. He's our teacher and he's 35 don't make things weird out of an innocent situation.'
Faye had a distraught face on as she was joking towards Morgan and Mr Owen.

Morgans gaze wandered aimlessly around the room, seeking any escape from the tedious lesson of Mr Owens. Her fingers absentmindedly tapped the desk, a silent rhythm of impatience. Although physically present, her thoughts seemed to wonder outside the confines of the classroom, escaping into a world of her thoughts far more captivating than the one which held mutters of the class. Only focused on the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall only served to accentuate the slow passage of time, each second dragging on as if mocking her want for the class to end. After all the desire for the ending, the bell goes off.  Suddenly, everyone got up ready to leave thats when Morgan grabbed her books putting them in her bag. She notices his subtle yet intense look, his eyes tracing her delicate features from his desk in admiration at her. His eyes lingered at her. 'Morgan can I speak to you after everyone's left'. Morgans face held perplexed. Students started to leave the room in a hurry for their lunch. Morgan walked up to the desk he was sat at, in interest of him- thinking of what Faye said. She never really noticed how beautiful he was until it was mentioned by her friend. When she was standing aside his desk all she could think about was the way his smile played on his lips, the sunlight catching in his tousled hair, and the sincerity that shone through his eyes. She found herself captivated by the details he wore. She felt tranquillised by his looks.