17. Trouble Follows Her

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Dean

I know that I should be tired from driving but seeing her some strands of her hair from a ponytail fall from her face as she sleeps was enough to give me energy. Suddenly, I'm seeing how her reddish medium full lips are closed as she slept, how she's lightly snoring as she slept, and I'm reminded how I used to look her last night. No matter what day is it or what time in the day is it, she still looks incredibly beautiful.

She must've sensed that the car stopped because her eyes slowly flutter open, glancing at me. The corner of her lips twitch upwards as her hand is on my shoulder.

"Hey," she whispers, her hand moving up my neck. "We're here?"

"Mhm," I nod, the eagerness to take her hand and kiss it is overpowering but I fight against it, knowing that this isn't really the place I want to do that. "You want me to walk you up to your dorm?"

Her eyes gaze upon mine for a second before shaking her head. "Actually, can you stay with me? We're obviously not doing anything—just sleeping. I haven't been getting enough sleep because I keep dreaming about Nathan but if you don't want to, that's okay, I can—"

I give her a hasty kiss down to her lips to silence her. God knows that I need more than a second worth of kiss but I'll take what I can get. "It's okay. I got you, Bly. Come on."

Without saying another word, we get out of the car and start walking to the building, waiting for the elevator with about three college students who are maybe a year older than us. As it opens, we're the one to step inside first, making sure to stand by the corner.

We were already going up when I feel Blythe reach for my hand. I thought that she was just going to tug on it to grab my attention but she interlaced our fingers. It—everything—feels different now than it used to be a days ago when I held her hand. I could feel my excitement rushing through my bloodstream as she held my hand as I secretly wished that the elevator would go too slow so I can just savor this moment.

It came to a halt at her floor. I thought that she'd let me go but she pulls me away from the crowd that's stepped aside to let us through with our hands still together.

Taking out the keys from her back pocket, her hands are steady as she unlocks the door but before she could even turn out the keys, she stops, staring right down at the knob of her door.

"What? What is it?" I ask.

She lets go of me and kneels down to her boot, taking out the famous Notorious switchblade and flipping it open. Her eyes darken and narrows when she glances up at me. "Get behind me." When I don't move, she grips my wrist and pull me back. "Someone's been here. My door's unlocked and if they're still here, it's better if they attack me than you."

I'm not able to protest, just stare at her with worry and amazement at the same time. Worried that whoever broke in to her dorm is still there and amazed at how her protectiveness over me is showing.

She starts to push open the door lightly with her left hand as her right grips tight on the knife. As she walks, I do too and I notice first the scent of a strong perfume. Claire de lune. I know because mom wears it. It also smells of strong body Axe spray and I can't help but crinkle my nose in disgust as the two sprays collided with one another, forming a strong, gut-wrenching scent.

Everything's open—her drawers, closet, her fridge, even her small purse that she uses whenever she's too tired to carry heavy things. Her notes are sprawled across the table down to the floor, her bed is unmade, the mattress turned upside down, and her luggage is open too. Clearly, whoever was in here, they were looking for something.

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