The Beastie and his Princess

Chapter 9

"Don't worry, I'm going," I slightly laughed as the dark haired blusher came to my seat. I got up, looking into her nice chocolate brown eyes, frowning just a bit, "Wait. Sorry, what was your name?"

I saw her laugh a bit too, smiling as she answered, "I'm Bailey Trevor."

I nodded, mentally saving her name somewhere in my head, "Nice to meet you. I'm Ryile Jones," I gave her a kind smile.

"I know," she laughed, taking my seat. She gave me a nod in thanks as she sat down. With that, I walked over to Ryder.

I dropped my stuff just like I had before. The only difference now, was that Ryder decided to look up as I took a seat.

He gave me a boyish nod, "Hey princess," he grinned.

I beamed, "Hey Beastie. Any grand ideas so far?"

He shook his head, rolling his black sleeves up to his elbows-his hood was still on. "Not yet. I'm sure we'll think of something along the way," he gave me a dismissive shrug. I sighed, leaning into my seat.

It was awkwardly quiet for a second, before I heard Ryder speak again, "So how are we presenting it anyway?" he grumbled.

I squeezed my eyes shut, rubbing my temples before opening my eyes again, "Uhh, I don't know," I deadpanned. "I don't even want to present," I sighed. It wasn't that I had stage-fright. Trust me.

It's just...I got nervous in front of crowds...

Fine. I had stage fright.

I saw Ryder chuckle, looking up to meet his sparkling green eyes, "Scared to present, are we?" he teased. "I would have expected you to laugh at the thought."

I raised my eyebrows, giving him a strange look, "Why is that?"

"Well, you aren't afraid to yell at me-the gan-" he broke off mid-sentence. He coughed, looking in a different direction, "You just don't care when it comes to telling me off," he shrugged.

I rolled my eyes at him, letting his slip up off the hook. "Well of course I'm going to tell you off. You get me mad too often for me to be any different."

He nodded, taking his pen and writing on the desk. I didn't pay attention to see what he was writing. I just looked elsewhere, faintly hearing the scraping of the pen against the desk as he carved roughly into the wood.

I doodled in my notebook, drawing star flowers on every inch of a blank page I could. Almost a full hour into the period I realized that I wasn't even half-way done, yet the class was just about to end. I shut my book, putting it into my bag. Looking over at Ryder, I watched as he put the cap on his pen, shoving it in the front of his jeans.

I looked him over, not noticing his gaze. He was wearing his usual black combat boots-and I have to say, I was starting to really like them. I wanted to buy a pair of my own, but with some silver studs decorating the heel or the toes. He had on some khaki jeggings, a snug white v-neck covering his chest. He had his usual black hoodie on, his soft brown hair peeking out in the front.

I looked over at his arms, my eyes wandering as I saw some black design slightly showing from under his sweater. I tilted my head in confusion, bringing my hands toward this black design. "What's this?" I whispered, tracing over his arm.

I blushed a light pink as I saw him tense, pulling my hand away as I realized what I was doing. "Sorry," I mumbled, leaning away from him.

"It's just a tattoo," he chuckled, pulling his sleeves down. I nodded, not looking back at him. I wanted to see the full design, but I didn't want to force him to take his sweater off. It seemed like the tattoo trailed up to his bicep, perhaps.