The Music Teacher

Carry Me

Chapter Thirteen:
He backed away from her. "I'm sorry", he simply said. "I don't care. I want to go home", he held his head low. "Look. It wouldn't be fair of me to drag you out here without giving you a lesson", he said not looking at her. She thought about it. Was he seriously asking her to stay for a lesson?

"You can't just do that....and then ask me to stay..",she said trying to make him see sense. He was breathing heavily, a sad look on his face. A tear ran down his cheek,"I didn't mean to scare you...", her eyes widened. Anger ran through her veins like a fast paced drug.

"That's all you've done to me...", she said almost in a whisper. "That's all you've done to me!!", she repeated, this time shouting. He didn't know what to say. He stood there trying to think. "If I went to another teacher would they treat me the way you have?", she asked angrily, knowing full well he was different.

He finally summed up the courage to speak,"I don't want to hurt you...not anymore...please Layla, sit down. Play. Let me make it up to you...", he pleaded with her. Layla sighed. This was her downfall. She always...always tried to see the best in people, even though sometimes it wasn't there. She nodded slowly. "On one condition", he looked her straight in the eye, ready to listen.

"You can never lay a hand on me....no more touching me..", he took a deep breath and nodded. "You have my word Layla..", she was satisfied. She walked over to the piano and sat down. He followed, bringing a chair with him. He kept his distance. The whole lesson he kept his hands away from her, as promised.

After about an hour, Layla felt tired. "I think we should call it a day..", he said noticing how tired she looked. She didn't respond. Her head was spinning. "I feel dizzy...", she said in a whisper. He put a hand on her shoulder, he looked concerned,"Layla, are you okay..?", she held her head down, her energy seemed to be disappearing within seconds.

"What did I fucking say!?", she shouted at him breathlessly, referring to his hand being on her shoulder. He didn't take it off, not until she pushed him away weakly. "I want to go home..", she stood up from the piano, Mr.Hamilton standing up with her. She began to walk, almost tripping in every step she took.

He followed close behind her,"I said no more-", she was cut off. She had fallen unconscious. He grabbed her before she hit the floor. He held her sleeping form in his arms. "Layla..?", he tried calling her. She didn't wake. He picked her up and brought her upstairs. He placed her down, in his bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed. He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face behind her ear. 'She's beautiful....', he thought to himself. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. He got up and left the room. Layla was left to rest. He went downstairs. Her phone could be heard, text messages coming through one after the other.

He walked into the living room where the sounds were coming from. It was on the floor. He figured it must have fallen out of her pocket when she collapsed. They were from Willow, Harper and her parents. 'Where are you??', was one from Harper. 'Layla are you okay?? We are all worried sick!!', was one from Willow. There were a few from her parents too.

He sighed. They'd have to wait. She wasn't going anywhere in her state. Layla woke up. It had been two hours since she collapsed. She didn't know that though. She looked around. 'Where am I?', she asked herself. She was clearly in a bed. But she had never seen this room before. Then she remembered collapsing. She jumped out of the bed.

Just as she was about to run to the door, it opened. "You're awake", he said casually. She looked at him, suspicious. Why wasn't he phased by her collapsing?