subject 13 // h.s. au

chapter sixteen.

Strands of hair stuck to my temples, and I felt a bead of sweat roll down my face. I threw my comforter off, and stood up from the couch, trying to shake the vivid dream from my mind.

I had never gone to Harry's room, instead I had waltzing right by it to curl up on my couch in the classroom.

The clock hanging precariously from its place on the concrete wall next to the door, read 3:54 am. I sighed and brushed the damp strands of hair from my face, walking towards the door.

 I shuddered as the cool air in the hallway hit my body and I began walking through the various corridors to my bedroom, my socks scuffing gently against the floor. I cringed as I walked past Harry's door, picking up my pace slightly.

I needed to shower and get this dream out of my head for good.

However, I then spent nearly an hour in the shower, staring at the wall through the steam, replaying the short dream over and over again. 

I now knew that the markings on his chest and arms were tattoos, and my heart fluttered at the thought of them, even though I had only seen them in my dreams for the past nine months.

I sat on my bed, only covered in sheets, and brought my legs up to tuck them underneath me. I had changed into a massive navy long sleeve, the neckline damp from my wet hair, and another black pair of cotton pajama shorts. 

It was now almost five in the morning and I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep. The dream had made me restless and uneasy at the thought that I still had such strong feelings for Harry after all this time.

I decided to walk back to the classroom and watch the cheery teacher, slumping onto the couch and flicking the screen on.

Her peppy voice filled the room, and I focused on her perfectly coiffed blonde hair. I was watching one of her early lessons on physical contact, mostly to watch her assistants.

"Why don't we use some of my lovely assistants to demonstrate a hug!" her voice rang out, as a girl crossed onto the screen. The girl had short, sandy blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but I wasn't really watching for her.

A boy came into view to stand next to the girl. His messy light brown hair tumbled in waves down to his shoulders, highlighting his strong jaw and perfect smile. Long, dark lashes framed his honey-colored eyes as he looked toward the camera. 

He couldn't have been any older than 18, but I still found myself coming back to watch this lesson. He was gorgeous, but something was hidden behind his eyes that I could never decipher. His entire demeanor projected calmness and a warm energy, but his eyes were chilling.

I watched as he stepped forward to hug the girl, his face still in view, as he flashed a smile.

I always wondered what had happened to the boy on "Judgement Day", he seemed soft and kindhearted, but the look in his eyes gave me feeling that he was the type of person that would survive, at any cost.

I turned the screen off, resigning to stare at the clock as the minutes ticked by, until lights in the hallway began to flick on. Someone was walking down the corridor, and I quickly wished that it wasn't Harry.

As the lights continued to switch on closer to the door, 12's face appeared behind the glass, and I sighed in relief. He pushed open the door quietly, and shuffled over to me, running a hand over his face.

"What are you doing up?" I whispered.

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled, plopping down onto the couch, and I scooted over to give him room.