Blue // Daniel Seavey

Chapter 2

Tori

Straightening my body up, my parted lips let out a light breath, one I wasn't aware I was holding. God, what was that? As soon as his breath hit the skin on my neck, I instantly felt a shiver parade my body, tingling down my spine with the absence of my permission. I've never been so close to him before, and of course, I never intended to. But in that one moment - that one moment - I felt a strong sensation, a weird one.

No.

Who am I kidding? This isn't me. I don't care about boys. It's just the stress of school's return taking its toll on you, everything is fine. I don't feel things. I wouldn't let myself feel anything when it comes to boys in this school, especially Daniel Seavey. No, not him. Out of everyone, definitely not him. Never in a million years. And I take an oath to that.

As I stare into space, completely zoning out whilst I chew on my lower lip, I suddenly feel a kick at the back of my chair, snapping me back to reality with instance. Fuck's sake, what now?
Slowly turning around, I find Daniel slumped on his chair, his knees open and his elbows on the back rest as he sits without a care in the world. After having had finished my rake of scrutiny upon his being, I raise an eyebrow, anticipating what he wants to say.

"Girl, do you ha--"

"My name's Tori," I quickly and abruptly cut him off, already irritated by his face that seems to fill me with a certain annoyance.

"I don't care," he sternly says, his face nonchalant however, straightening his posture. "Do you have a pen?"

"Hmm, I don't know." I shrug, knowing that my disinterest will provoke him as I stroke a finger across my chin. "Maybe I can say that I do have one if you have the effort to call me by my name. If not, then I don't have a pen."

"Don't be ridiculous." he spits, his face screwing up to rest in a grimacing expression. "I'm asking you to give me a pen, not some fucking head."

"Awh, is that so?" I retaliate, shooting him a fake look of sympathy as I purse my bottom lip out. "Well, I'm asking you for the simple expectations of decency, but you seem incapable of doing such a thing."

I find myself smiling at how easy it is to annoy him - say one word he doesn't like, and bam, he's angry.

Patently, the muscles in his jaw tighten into a clenched position, his eyes burning with a subtle fury, before he leans his head in closer, putting his elbows on the table. "Look, I don't who you think you are." he begins, a look in his eyes that suggests he has a mean to intimidate, and I only await him to continue in silence with a cocked brow. "But no one, and I mean no one, speaks to me like that."

Wow, okay.

I scoff, "Speak to you like what? I said a normal sentence." I smile, "Or, maybe you're just used to people not speaking to you at all. Because you're just so intimidating, like I'm scared as hell right now," I utter sarcastically, finding amusement in his agitated expression. "Maybe I'll run away." I make gestures with my arms, pretending I'm running in slow motion, a humorous smile on my face. I'm aware I look utterly stupid while doing it, but I couldn't give the tiniest fuck if he judges me. He doesn't say anything as he stares me out, his arms crossed, my eyes attempting to decipher what he's feeling besides annoyance; I'm unsuccessful.

"I don't give away my stuff to unworthy people," I say, releasing a sigh, my tone turning serious.

"Is that so?" He raises a brown brow, cocking his head to the side slightly. "Well, worthy or not, I tend to get whatever I want. So. Give. Me. A. Pen." With each word, he leans in even closer, every feature of his unreadable, until he stops and his face rests into a hard glare, mouth pressed into a hard line. He's one cocky son of a bitch is all I'm saying. Rolling my eyes, I turn back around, coming to the logical decision that he isn't worth the time, and that I won't entertain his shit any longer. Just as I turn away from him and pick up my pen, I feel a light tap on my shoulder all of a sudden, causing my nostrils to flare as I turn around again.