Enough | ✔️

+ 21 +

I hesitantly shuffle down the steps of the lecture hall and take my usual seat next to Hannah. As soon as I sidle closer, she turns away from me.

With a sigh, my arrogance retreats, "I'm sorry, Hannah. I know you're just looking out for me and I'm just being too stubborn to listen."

She doesn't seem to be convinced by my definitely-practised-in-the-mirror apology, but she looks over at me anyway, "Alright."

I'm prevented from replying as Sla- Professor Hartley claps his hands and begins the lecture.

"Okay, class, today will be mainly independent work and a review session of what we have covered so far, as opposed to a formal lecture. Be mindful of others and revise quietly. This is the only time you will have to ask me about any topics you don't understand, so use it wisely. Begin," he states, stoic still as his watchful gaze sweeps over the hall, not lingering on anyone.

Anyone.

Students start to take out their materials and headphones to block out everyone else as I look down at my desk, at a loss for words. It appears as if a gaping hole has burrowed its way into my chest; it's like I've somehow managed to drive away all my friends and people who cared about me in return for my parents' acceptance.

Isn't it worth it though? They finally understand you, you can finally have a family again.

I sigh audibly as the room descends into a studious atmosphere, a few hands raising for guidance on more taxing areas.

Footsteps approach from behind me, and I turn around, expecting to see prominent cheekbones and dark eyes lined with thick lashes.

I can't hold back the disappointment from showing in my expression.

But even more so, my eyes fill with unadulterated fear.

I scan up the figure's body, dread consuming me with every familiar feature. Black trainers. Slim blue jeans. Plain white shirt. Sharp jaw, blue eyes, blonde hair.

Recognition.

"Quorra, it's nice to see you again," Grant greets with an unfaltering smile.

I feel as if a complete quiet washes across the room, but I know that it only washes over me. I still, like a motionless mannequin on display in front of a store. He watches me like one, the happiness in his eyes refusing to fade.

Hannah stiffens beside me.

"I..." I manage to conjure up, but the rest of my sentence dies in my throat.

A pencil clatters to the ground on the other side of the room.

Thankful for the distraction, I flit my attention to the cause of the sound.

Professor Hartley stares at Grant with a steely glint in his eye. His obsidian gaze turns to mine after a while, the compressed anger not softening.

Four Mississippis later,  he looks away, returning to his position - leant over a student's desk - to help a lost-looking girl.

"I just wanted to come over here and say hi," Grant reiterates, hands up in defence, "I won't do a thing."

I look at him sceptically, doubting every single syllable that leaves his mouth.

"And," he continues, stepping closer, "I know you don't want to talk about what happened in our past, so I won't bring it up. But know this - I never intended for that to happen. I would never intentionally hurt you."

I lose the ability to speak, the letters unable to come together in my overworked brain. My limbs grow numb, the feeling in my fingertips disappearing like I wish he would. My pen falls out of my grasp and onto the table as fast as my heart drops from my chest.