Escape

3 • foUr

Written by: Daisy Quacquarelli
Edited by: Daisy Quacquarelli

Late again. Do you want an excuse? No? Okay then.

Dryla's POV

It would be an understatement to say the school was big. The school was, in fact, ginormous, the mansion of some kind of giant being. Having my mothers husband, Crit, nattering at me for years about building structures, I knew a fair bit about the building like the time period it was built and such.

"Hold on," I said, dragging my eyes away, reluctantly from the monstrosity of a building and down to the small bag at my feet. I pulled out the pamphlet each student had been sent and flicked through until I found the correct page. "Ah! I knew those lectures from Crit weren't an entire waste."

Juxe's reflection raised his eyebrows in question and he coughed gently, signally he wanted an explanation to my outburst.

I ran my finger along the page, not needing to correct myself as I noticed that the building structure had been exactly the same that I had envisioned.

"PART Boarding School is a large Manor House converted into a school in the late 1800s," I said, reading directly from the book. "The building had once belonged to the mayor of Eidton, the now dead town that was destroyed by a mysterious fire from an unknown source in 1786." I nodded, satisfied with the answer and set the book back down in the seat beside me.

"And what does that confirm?" my driver pressed, a slight note of eagerness in his voice. A giggle escaped me. A giggle. He looked just surprised as I felt but I brushed the feeling away and swung my legs through the middle of the seats and onto the chair next to him.

"Miss Lique I really don't think that's a good-"

"You're curious, huh?" I rested my elbow on my knee and my chin on top of my clenched fist as I surveyed Juxe. "I don't this there ever has been a time where the placid faced driver has ever showed any other emotion."

A small chuckle. "You're cheeky, miss," he said in his soft voice. I, of course, had had long, detailed daydreams about my gorgeous driver; I mean, who wouldn't. His eyes were so gleaming yet kind, coloured like the kind of silver you see in the full moon on a very clear night.

Wait, grey eyes? He had blue eyes before.

"Err, Juxe," I said leaning towards him slightly and angling my face so as to look him directly in the face. "Your eyes; they turned grey."

For once in my life I saw his face pale. He turned away from me, focusing solely on the road in front, driving straight through the gates. I tilted my head, confused as to why he was ignoring me when he began to speak.

"I've known you since you were a girl. We're how many years apart?" he asked.

"5 years," I replied almost immediately. I must've sounded quite desperate but at that moment, I couldn't care less. Juxe had been the sole character in my daydreams for months and to know how many years we were apart was child's play. "What about it?"

Slowly, he pulled over, onto the grass verge nearby and turned off the engine, swiftly. Then, he turned his body and leaned in close to me. I could just about feel his breath, lightly tickling my cheek.

Gently, he tilted my face up with his fingers and looked into my eyes.

"Dryla," he whispered. "You are my mate."