It's so fucking cold.
Tugging on the sleeves of my Rolling Stones hoodie, trying to get warm, I walk down the most dreaded hall of the whole university. And why was I doing this?
Because my professor told me to leave his class. Just because I told him to piss off when he asked me to put my cigarette out.
I walk down this hall almost every single day. I get in trouble so much for the littlest things. Most of it, I don't even do. I just get blamed for it all.
I know most universities aren't even strict about things and don't send students to offices if and when they fuck up, but this university was way different than most.
It was beyond strict and I wish I would have never enrolled in this shit hole.
But then again, that's not really true, this place was one of the best art and culture universities in London. Perfect for me. So I have to just deal with all of the other shit going on.
Rubbing my hands together, trying to cause friction, I'm still trying to get warm. This hall was the coldest out of them all, for some reason. It had a weird and uneasy feel to it that sent chills throughout your body.
It's actually not one of the main halls to walk down either, it's a short cut that I like to take. Because the main halls are always filled with staff members giving me death glares every time I walk through. To be honest though, this hall isn't any better. It's deserted for a reason.
Everyone is scared to take this hall because the Dead Silent gang roams around this area. It's one of the gangs that roam this campus who no one likes to mess with.
About seven of them, I think.
I have to sneak around them every time I walk here. And thankfully, they've never noticed me.
My breath hitches in my throat as I hear the familiar voice of one of the gang members. It was intimidating, that's for sure. The air suddenly got even colder around me as I bit my thumb nail nervously. They were right around the corner, I knew it.
"You got a light?" I hear one say as I freeze in my steps.
"Yeah." Another male voice answers him before I hear a slide of a lighter.
I press myself up against the corner of the wall and slowly peek around it. My heart beat slows a bit when I notice their backs are turned to me.
Why was I so scared to face them anyway? Was it because of their bad boy image? Or was it because of the thoughts of what they might do to me? Probably both.
Being the jackass that I am, I take a deep breath.
Don't do it.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
You're going to regret this.
Took one step around the corner.
You're dead.
When I walk passed them, their eyes glue right onto me. I feel the nerves bubble up inside of me as my palms begin to get sweaty. I was praying in my mind that they wouldn't say anything. Intense stares, I could handle.
"Hello, love."
Shit.
I turn around to face a devilish smirk, only a couple inches away from me.
I jolt back as the boy chuckles devilishly.
His big, green eyes pierce into me as I take another step back. He holds his hands behind his back while taking a swift step closer to me as his brown, curly hair flops up and down.
"Aren't you a charmer?" He speaks to me while grasping my arm and pulling me closer to him.
"Get the hell off of me." I snap, yanking my arm but it doesn't even budge in his strong hold.
"Can't a pretty girl like you be more polite?" He teases cheekily.
"Okay, please get the hell off of me." I retort with a fake smile.
The rest of the gang snickers behind him as the curly haired boy looks unimpressed and bored.
"You want to play it like that?" Curly chuckles, excitement filling his eyes, grabbing onto both of my arms forcefully as I wince at the sharp pain and squeeze my eyes shut.
"Harry, stop."
My eyes pop back open. One of the gang members was standing right behind 'Harry' with his hand on his shoulder, trying to pull him back.
Harry almost stops breathing once the other guy touches him.
My eyes wonder over to the boy; he was the same height as Harry, very tall but more lean. His midnight black hair was slightly shaved on the sides and tall and styled on the top. His eyes catch my upmost attention; brown eyes with gold speckles that could make any girl faint on sight. His skin was pale and he had little stubble on his chin.
His expression was firm and concerned as his hand was still placed on Harry's shoulder. Surprisingly, Harry lets his hands fall from my arms and I instantly sigh of relief. He yanks out from under golden eye's hand and storms down and out of the hall; lighting a cigarette on the way.
The other gang members casually follow Harry around the corner, except for the boy with the beautiful eyes.
He stares at me in a strange way that sends a chill traveling up and down my spine as we stand in the middle of the hall. The room get's warmer, his eyes searching mine. We stand there for what seems like forever, until he takes off and darts out of the hall. And out of my sight.
