Unwritten Chords

Chapter 25: he has a heart?

Author's POV

The history lecture had dragged on, much like the rest of the day, but it was finally over.

Anya stood near Adrian's locker, arms crossed, her foot tapping impatiently against the polished floor. The clock ticked mockingly as she waited. He was precisely 1.4 minutes late, a fact that only added to her mounting irritation.

When he finally appeared, his damp hair clung to his forehead, evidence of a quick post-practice shower. The faint scent of his cologne drifted in the air as he approached, utterly nonchalant.

"You're two minutes late," she said, her voice clipped as she stepped aside to give him room.

"Uh-huh," he replied lazily, tossing his things into his locker without sparing her a glance.

"‘Uh-huh’? That’s all you’ve got?" Her tone sharpened, cutting through the noise of passing students.

Adrian finally turned to her, slamming his locker shut with a satisfying clang. "Your place or mine?" he asked, his voice calm, but his expression betrayed his exasperation.

"Neither," she snapped without hesitation, her arms folding tighter.

He sighed, running a hand through his still-damp hair. "Look, we need to get this over with. Believe me, I’m just as thrilled about this as you are—"

"Campus?" she interrupted, sharp enough to draw blood.

"In the dark? Probably in the rain? Great plan. Let me just grab a flashlight and a tent." Adrian retorted.

"Fine," she huffed, snatching his bike keys from his hand with more force than necessary. She spun on her heel and marched toward the parking lot without another word.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he reopened his locker, retrieving his helmet. He trailed after her, his long strides easily closing the distance.

"Let me make one thing clear," she began as they reached his bike, her voice low but loaded with warning. "I’m the least interested person in the entire world when it comes to working with you."

He didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to pluck the keys from her hand and  start the bike before climbing onto his bike. "Noted," he said simply, holding out the helmet.

She took it begrudgingly, glaring at him all the while. As she struggled with the straps, Adrian leaned back slightly, his smirk widening.

Why does she always make this harder than it needs to be? he mused, though he didn’t offer to help. Watching her wrestle with the helmet had become something of a guilty pleasure.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally climbed onto the bike behind him.

"This is the second time you’re riding my bike," he remarked, starting the engine with a low hum.

"And?" she replied flatly, her tone daring him to continue.

He chuckled, the sound deep and infuriatingly smug. "Nothing. Just saying… you can hold on to me. I don’t bite. Wouldn’t want you flying off midway."

"Wow, you’re hilarious," she deadpanned, but her hands hesitantly found their way to his waist, her grip feather-light.

Adrian didn’t comment, though the small upward twitch of his lips didn’t go unnoticed.

The ride was silent, save for the wind rushing past them. Anya’s sharp glare bore into him through the rearview mirror, but Adrian’s focus remained fixed on the road ahead.

He smirked as he noticed her continues glares.

That is, until he took a sudden turn—one that led in the opposite direction of his house. He had told her he lives near to her house.