Hate Me Love Me

4| What He Wants 👿

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

"Love is giving someone the power to destroy you...but trusting them not to" --- Paulo Coelho.

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍

The best way, in my opinion, to avoid going to the cafeteria, is to go to the library. After asking my AP Chemistry teacher, I head there during break. The library's in a separate building behind the school, between the gymnasium building and assembly hall.

It's brand new with tinted glass walls and marble flooring. Chandeliers hang from the high-ceilings and the smell of books makes me slightly drowsy with happiness. It's a huge library. Large enough for me to get lost in. And I'll happily get lost.

The old librarian nods at me as I walk by, and when he's out of sight, I pull out my neon yellow earphones and adjust the buds in my ears, because I forgot my air pods at home. My phone goes in my blazer pocket and I'm ready. Looking for books is a serious task. A mission that should be taken seriously, with extreme caution.

Therefore, it requires music.

Getting lost in the long, high aisles of bookshelves, I sway my hips to the beat of the music. It's important that I stay unnoticed. If someone sees the pile of books in my hand, they'll give me weird looks. And as much as I don't mind being called a bookworm, I just don't like weird looks.

I'm human. I'm allowed to feel annoyed.

Most of lunchtime is finished by the time I decide to head out. I adjust the pile of books in my arms and turn around, still swaying to the music in a world of my own.

And then I see him.

Leaning against a bookshelf with his arms crossed and a snarl on his perfect face, is Alaric Aldrois.

And the sudden interruption of privacy disconnects my brain with my arms. And all my books fall. Just like my jaw.

Why is he here?

His eyes travel from the books scattered on the floor up to my furrowed eyebrows. And then he walks right towards me.

As he walks, he flicks the books out of his way with his feet without even glancing down. His azure eyes are connected with mine.

And then he's right in front of me. If I was taller, we'd be nose-to-nose. The upbeat music isn't helping my nerves.

He yanks the neon yellow earphones out of my ears gently, and they make a clanking sound as they meet like pendulums' beneath his hold. I glare at him.

First my books. Then my music. This guy has a death wish.

'What is it?' I snap at him angrily, crossing my hands in front of me and tapping my foot impatiently.

His snarl becomes wider.

'You won't give me what I want. You can, but you won't,' he says it as if he's talking to himself. Like he's telling himself that.

'Damn right I won't,' I say.

His eyes focus as if he's just snapped out of his reverie. Like he's just remembered that I'm standing in front of him.

'Why are you in the library?' he asks, and I'm about to state the obvious when he holds up a hand and shakes his head as if he can't believe he just asked me that.

'This is a stupid way to avoid the cafeteria. Also, you're admitting that you're a loner,' he says to me.

'Excuse me? Did it cross your thick skull that I might just want to borrow a book? And going to the library does not make you a loner,' I defend.

He raises an eyebrow.

'A book?' he gestures to the books on the floor around us for emphasis.

I roll my eyes.

'Whatever,' I say, and start picking the books from the floor. He's forced to release my earphones as I move away, so they dangle from my phone in my blazer pocket and I accidentally step on them, almost tripping before I stabilise myself. But a few books fall again. I reach out to pick them up and when I'm stretching my arm to reach the last one, a polished, black leather shoe kicks it away.

I stand up and glare at Alaric. He glares back.

'You don't just "whatever" me, chroma,' he snarls. 'You're not worth it.'

I move closer to him and crane my neck up so our noses are almost touching. He freezes. His eyes widen and his hands turn into fists like he's restraining himself. I look right into his eyes and he looks back into mine so intensely that I almost drown in their depth. His eyes are so dark that the indigo is almost black. Almost. And right now, he looks like he's in pain.

Looking dead in his eyes, I whisper one word: 'Whatever.'

And then he charges at me. Grabbing both of my wrists, he pushes me against a bookshelf and pins my hands next to my face, pressing himself to me. From the knees to the tops of our chests, we're pressed together. Not a single piece of dust can get through. His touch isn't rough or hard. It's just strong.

'Don't,' he whispers, gulps. 'Don't mess with my mind, chroma. You're going to regret it.'

And then he pushes himself away as if he's breaking chains that bind us together, and takes a few steps away, but then stops and turns his head just a fraction of an inch towards me.

'You had better not come to the library again during break,' he says it like a command.

But he's not the boss of me.

'I don't listen to douchebags,' I retort, and he turns his head to look right at me. He has a sort of fiery look in his eyes.

'If you come here during break again,' he turns his head back around and takes another step away from me. 'Be prepared to face the consequences.'

Consequences.

Consequences.

Consequences.

His words echo in my mind the rest of break.

Because Alaric Aldrois may be a billion different types of evil, but he's loyal. To people.

And to his words.

֍҉֍҉♥҉֍҉֍