His tongue trails from the side of my chin to the corner of my mouth. I'm frozen on spot, barely breathing. When he pulls away, his eyes are the same shimmering silver I had seen the other night. My breathing spikes, and his eyes dart to my mouth. B...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
— 22—
He sits down next to me and looks me in the eye. "Now we talk about you."
"What about me?" I ask nonchalantly, trying to play it off.
"You know what," he says. "Tell me what happened in class today."
I stiffen automatically but force myself to keep his gaze. "Nothing happened," I say firmly. "You were being an asshole like always, and I lost my temper. I don't know why you think that's so strange."
He eyes me, unconvinced. "There's a common myth among humans," he says suddenly, watching me.
I raise an eyebrow, not sure where he's going.
"For some reason, people believe that when a person is lying, they look away," he informs me, "but the opposite is true: if someone is telling the truth, they look away, because they're trying to remember. When they're lying, however, people tend to make an unusual amount of eye-contact, like you're doing right now."
I roll my eyes. "What're you trying to say?"
He shrugs. "I'm just trying to figure out whether or not you're relapsing, Vixen."
"I already told you I'm not!"
"Yes, but what you say and what's actually happening rarely line up."
I groan. "Then what? You have a theory or something? Because I'm all ears for it if you do."
He shakes his head. "I have thousands of theories, but I've found myself blank when it comes to what happened earlier."
"That's because it was nothing," I reason. Why can't he just let it go already?
"Then why are you so angry?" he asks innocently.
I clench my teeth, feeling a headache coming on. "What do you want from me, Chase?"
"I want you to talk to me," he says simply.
Except it's not simple.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"There's plenty to talk about, Vixen," he corrects, tilting his head. "Let's start with why you were angry."
"I'm always angry," I grumble, biting the inside of my lip. "Nothing new there."
He sighs, and it throws me off. Chase, of all people, sighing. "I can smell blood, remember?" he says softly, thumb brushing the underside of my lip—the exact place I had just bitten.
I actually have to consciously tell myself not to bite the inside of my lip again, thoughts racing.
This was the perfect time to tell him about Canty. It was the truth anyway, right? Besides, it would keep his mind off of everything else, and he might even assume the breakdown was from that whole situation instead of... well, instead of something as stupid as whatever feelings I had.
