The Shade's Of You. | ✓

6

A/N : WHAAAAAT?! YOU GUYS, I HAVE OVER 1K READS! I'm so happy, I love and appreciate you all so so much! (I know it's not a lot but hey, I'm still going to celebrate with some hot coco.) goodnight and god bless.❤️

Sophia.

Even though I had decided, by myself, to run away the next morning and to decline every call, text messages and every other means of contact that Percy had tried for the past three weeks— he still proved to me that he cares and loves me, more than he should really, he had answered my frantic call and reassured me that everything is fine.

He had his men trace the number which lead him to believe that someone was just pranking and scaring me.

The number was a tracked to the cafe, my cafe, and then the phone had been ditched. He had told me all this over the phone, although he sounded strictly like business.

It's been a day since that stupid prank call and since we had last spoken, since weeks. It was hard, like usual.

I had gotten used to the scary, tatted man buzzing around me in my cafe and in my home or wherever I were, so much so that everything I do, my mind is on him— being away from someone you deeply care about is very hard.

I hated it, everything about it but what I hated the most was me being away from him, me forcing us to separate.

We hadn't really sat down and spoken about everything that's happened between us so far but I know that someday we will and I have this feeling that tells me that, that someday might be sooner than I think.

And I, also, know that he is definitely going to want to know why I left that morning three weeks ago.

I didn't even have the audacity to say goodbye to him.

My hands move across the page in front of me in a fast motion, so fast that it catches the eyes of the boy seated beside me and he glares, I glare right back obviously.

This guy— Harry, god, he was frustrating!

He glared at everyone and at everything. He didn't care to be nice, at all, he was always so rude and mean!

Harry was known for many things around this college, mostly the one that sticks out to everyone is his mysterious demeanor and not to mention, the way these chick's ogle at him, all day, maybe night too, long.

He had thick luscious curls that sat on top of his head, just asking to run your hands through them and these greyish green eyes. He was handsome, yes.

But way too cocky and ego centered about himself.

Our lecturer is still speaking about physiological traumas when I focus back on the lecture and I huff in annoyance, I wish he could slow down for a minute and he does, completely coming to a stop, for a different reason.

A freshman walks into the room, nervous as hell by the way he keeps gulping and shoving his thick rimmed glasses into his face as he moves towards the man in front and hands him a white paper— he frowns and nods.

“Sophia Rose, the dean requested your presence.” The old mans voice calls out and I freeze in my stiff seat.

The dean?

As in the head of the college?

He wants to see me. . .

The boy, who I wouldn't expect to know who I was, turns his head and stares directly at my tense figure and I frown, it's as if he were expecting something. “Sophia?” He mouths to me and I nod my head yes, watching as he nods back and gestures to the opened door before strolling out of the room— all that nervousness from earlier long gone now, making me more confused than ever about this.

I quickly jump up from my seat and scramble to stuff my little bag with all my notes and pens and other junk.

My feet hurry down the short stairs and I apologize, and excuse myself from the lecture who seems much too happy for the sudden disturbance and I understand him fully, even I would need a break from some of these thick headed fools who only care about partying away.

“I'm sorry—” I quickly rush out only to stop myself when I realize the nerdish boy from before is no where to be spotted. I frown and then I shrug, he must have gotten tired of waiting for my lazy, slow ass. “Okay.” I mumble.

I go to step forward in the direction of the dean when someone presses their fingers against my neck, applying pressure before stabbing me in my arm with something.

My mouth opens, to scream, to call for help, to do something but the only sound that escapes is a whimper.

An arm wraps itself around my waist and a hand goes to cover my mouth when I barely try to fight back— I can't, even through my weak fighting, I somehow know that whatever they've injected into my arm it had something to do with keeping me numb and almost, slowly, paralyzed.

It's not long after when all I feel and see is darkness.

-

-

What do you thinks happening to Sophia?