Are You Really Mine?

Trust

Shyarah P.O.V.
I trudge through the school hallways, barely noticing the irritated looks that people gave me when I pushed pass their little groups.

I yawn and blink when someone steps in front of me. "Can we talk?" Ethan asks, looking at me curiously. I nod tiredly and wave him into an empty classroom. "What's up?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

"Did you have a...weird dream last night? About, oh I don't know, you as a kid being tortured by a shadowy creature and me trying to help you. I was apparently thrown across the room?" he asks agitatedly. I nod wearily and raise an eyebrow at him. "I did. What's your point?" I ask, not really caring about the answer.

"It's weird! You have to admit. It has to mean something." he wants, his blue eyes wild. "I'll talk to my father tonight. Relax, Ethan." He purses his lips and nods stiffly, walking out the door without another word.

I sigh and grumble, "That went well." I stalk out the door and head to my first period class. As strange as it may be, I trust Ethan. Even if I don't want to.

Ethan P.O.V.
The whole day, my mind is spinning with questions and theories. I knew Shyarah before that night in the forest. We knew each other as children and I was really protective of her. Did that mean that I loved her at one point? "Yo! Are you still awake?" Ashton calls, waving a hand in front of my face.

I nod absently and slap his hand away. "I'm just thinking. Chill." I snap, narrowing my eyes at him. Ashton holds his hands up in a placating gesture and mumbles, "Okay, okay. Sorry." "Whatever." I murmur, rolling my eyes.

"Who pissed in your pizza?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at me. "No one." I pause. "Come on. The day is done and I wanna get home." I finish as the bell rings, the shrill sound echoing through the halls.

He nods and jogs off, waving good-bye. I wave back half-heartedly and focus on the head of black hair bobbing through the throng of students. I make my way over and tap her on the shoulder.

"I want you to let me know what your father says." I tell her, jotting my number down on her palm. She looks down at the number with disdain and nods reluctantly. "Fine. I'll text when I figure it out."

With that, she sprints off and out the doors. "You better." I mutter into empty air. Why the hell do I trust her?
I think, mentally screaming in frustration.

*A/N* Hello dear readers. Sorry for the wait, but here you go. I will write more later on, so don't worry. If you have any suggestions, feel free to comment. Ciao, y'all! ✌️