Isabel had a tight, amused look on her face as she peered up at me from her notebook that was propped on her knees, and Casper looked at me with a tense expression. His fingers were clenched tightly in his lap and he gave the bare gist of a nod. As Isabel dropped her head back over her work, I glanced through my fringe at Casper; he seemed to alternate between fixing me with his intense gaze and examining his neat fingernails, and back again. I felt my stomach jolt whenever his pale glare would land on me. I felt exposed.
“So, I’m just letting you know, I don’t have my segments written up.”
“What?” Isabel’s head snapped up. “But why not? We’ve already had this assignment for weeks and we’re already behind as it is!” she lowered her voice a little and leaned over in her chair, “Three other groups have already booked the studio to record some stuff and we haven’t even worked anything out yet!”
I shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything and you know it. They’re probably not doing anything nearly as complex as we are. That’s why we need to work everything out so that it can go smoothly when it comes to the technical aspect of things.”
“That doesn’t help when you haven’t done your third of the project, thus far,” she stated in a condescending tone.
I bristled in my seat; “I was ill, Isabel, or don’t you remember that?” I snapped. I could already feel the dull throbbing of a headache coming on. “Besides, I had to go through all of your emails and then you came over. Please tell me when I had the time to do any of my own work?” I hadn’t meant to bite her head off, or even be that sarcastic, it had just slipped out. I was still catching up on my sleep and general rest after the come-down from my medication.
Isabel huffed at me, her cheeks going slightly blotchy, “So it’s my fault?” she snapped. She raked her hair out of her eyes, “Well, you still could have done some work, Avery,” she snapped in a dark tone, “I mean if you can have enough time to eat take-out food and spend all night with him,” she sneered over at Casper who, to his credit, didn’t react in the slightest, “then you could have worked as well.” She tried to challenge me with her stare but when she could see I wasn’t backing down, she scoffed, “Fine. I’m going to the studio. Unlike some of us, I actually have some ideas and would much prefer to get them written down.”
I watched as she snatched her bag from under her chair, threw her coat over her arm and stormed out. I barely had time to register any of it, before the door slammed shut behind her. I slumped down in my chair and ran a hand down the length of my face.
“Well that went well,” a low voice commented dryly. I peered up to see Casper examining his nails. He didn’t seem as though he was planning to say more.
“What do you expect?” I muttered, more to myself than to him, “Eurgh this is such a mess! I’d hoped that we could actually create the story arc today but now that’s shot to shit.”
Casper didn’t say anything as he fiddled with a frayed thread on his cuff before his low voice caught my ear, “Well if you want, we can still work on a story arc.”
“How?” I asked, “Isabel took all her notes and I haven’t got anything to work with except yours.”
Casper rolled his eyes before scoffing, “No she didn’t. She wasn’t doing anything before you came here, just doodling on her book. She emailed a full transcript of her notes last night. Didn’t you get it?” he asked in a deriving tone. I shook my head, feeling hot and sickly, as his eyes weighed down on me. “Well I printed them off this morning, so if you want we can go to a table and figure out the story arc to work from.”
I stared at him without realising. He stared right back, not a muscle twitching in his face. “Er … okay then. What about Isabel? She’s already going to work on actual chords.”
“Who cares? She walked out, so it’s up to us to do the leg-work. If she doesn’t like it that’s her problem.” He didn’t care. He really didn’t care, I realised as I watched him grab his things and head over to one of the narrow desks pushed off to the side of the classroom. I sat there for a moment, staring at him as he settled down and started leafing through the papers from his backpack. My ears were still ringing with the fact that he’d said more than two words to me.
I slipped into the seat adjacent to his, the printed pages all spread out between us. I kept a safe distance from his arm that was crooked over the table, remembering the last time I had accidentally touched him.
We worked in a tense atmosphere for a while as we argued the pros and cons of each one of his and Isabel’s ideas, and where there could be spaces allowed for my own ideas –when I eventually came up with some. He was quiet for the most part as he scribbled out notes in Isabel’s work. There was so much red ink over her work that it looked as though her ideas were bleeding. I was so caught up in it all, almost enjoying it for the first time in ages, when the bell rang out for the end of our double-period. I scrubbed a hand down my face and forced myself out of my chair. My body suddenly felt quite heavy and my stomach grumbled. Casper didn’t say anything as he straightened the collar of his black trench coat and wrapped a dull blue scarf around his neck. He was just adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder when I decided to speak up.
“Are you busy after this?” I asked, my voice strained and tight in my throat.
He froze in his movements, his fingers stilling on the thick, glossy buttons at his collar. His jaw was tense as he thought, deliberating on what to do. I felt my breathing grow hard as I watched him, waiting for a reaction. My stomach coiled up into a tight knot. “Why?” he managed to rasp out.
My hands were starting to sweat and I felt unbearably ridiculous in that moment, “Well I wanted to know if we could go and get something to eat or grab a coffee and keep working on the project?”
His cold, hard eyes darted up to me and I felt my breath escape from my lungs. They seemed to bore into my skull as though trying to decide what my motivation for wanting such a thing was. I watched his knuckles flash white from where he was gripping the strap of his bag. A muscle in his jaw twitched, “Fine. Where do you want to go?”
I almost let my mouth drop open in shock. Truth be told, I had been expecting more of a fight from him to avoid going out. “T-there’s a small café down the road from campus if you don’t mind the walk?”
He shook his head and turned towards the door of the classroom. I followed him, taking the shake of his head to mean that he didn’t mind a walk instead of a simple refusal of my offer.
Thankfully I wasn’t wrong as I caught him outside under the iron grey sky, waiting for me to lead the way. As I walked along ahead of him I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end. I could feel the weight of his gaze trying to strip the flesh away from my bones. We didn’t speak for the entire walk down out of campus and then along a wide stretch of road before we came to the high street. About half way down it, I ducked into a doorway and held it open, jerking my head for him to enter ahead of me. I tried not to notice the glare as he passed me, keeping as much distance between our bodies as possible.
It was warm as we lined up with a few other students to order over the counter. He didn’t touch the assistant's hand as she passed us our drinks. He waited and stared her down until she pressed her lips together and left his cup on the counter with a little more force than necessary. He didn’t even blink at the interaction. Perhaps it was a normal occurrence for him.
When we’d finally ordered everything we wanted, he waited off to the side as I stirred two packets of sugar into my drink. We made our way to a small rounded table with plush chairs at the back of the café. I couldn’t help but feel a twist in my gut that I tried to drown with some of my coffee. It didn’t really do much as I sank down into one of the chairs, letting it engulf me.
“Why did you choose red?” he finally asked as he stirred his coffee without looking up at me.
I frowned as I looked up from my coffee. He didn’t look up at me; he seemed too absorbed in getting out the papers we’d been working on, incl
uding Isabel’s scribbled-out notes. I didn’t understand what he was talking about until he raised his eyebrows at me. I blinked in confusion before a lock of my red fringe fell into my eyes. “Oh that?” I brushed my hair out of my eyes, “I guess I just liked the colour of it. Why?”
He shrugged a stiff shoulder and then wriggled out of his coat, brushed down the long sleeves of his shirt, and leaned his arms against the table top, “No reason. It’s just very ambitious.”
“Ambitious? It’s just red. Loads of people have red hair. Ambitious would be green hair or blue hair.”
He snorted and nodded his head, “True, but I think most people who wanted to dye their hair green wouldn’t necessarily venture out in public for fear of being tormented.”
I looked up at him and watched as he slowly relaxed into the plush leather armchair he was nestled in. I fiddled with my little wooden stirrer before speaking up; “Why did you put it on my record that I was off ill?”
He blinked up at me in surprise before it morphed back into indifference. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because we’ve only just started interacting with one another.”
“So?” he challenged, his light eyes accentuated by the blackness of his hair. I wanted to argue with him but I couldn’t find the right words. There were no words.
He huffed and started shuffling some pages around, but from my perspective all I could see were the way his long, pale fingers worked around the pen and slipped around the base of his coffee cup and how they tapped a rhythm on the table when he was mulling something over. I hadn’t realised how much I’d been staring or for how long until a screwed up ball of paper rebounded off of my forehead. I blinked and refocused my attention. “You need to stop doing that otherwise I’m going to have you arrested.”
“For what?” I blinked, “Staring into space?”
“No, visually harassing me,” he quipped dryly as he dropped his gaze back down.
I frowned and then let a small laugh escape me. His shoulders tensed up but I didn’t care, “That’s not a thing!” I exclaimed.
“It will be when I enter it onto Wikipedia later on tonight,” he replied haughtily, glaring up at me through his heavy black fringe. His stoic face did nothing to help my laughing fit, though, and it was only a matter of time before I was hiccoughing. Casper watched me closely before his face dipped out of sight below his fringe. I couldn’t decide on whether he was self-conscious of just not used to working with one of his project partners out in the open. It made me feel oddly appreciated for some reason as I downed the last of my coffee and we continued to work, hunched over the table and speaking in low murmuring voices.
At the end of a couple of hours we had managed to sketch out an almost completed story arc along with the filler parts –that didn’t seem to be necessarily fillers to me –that were marked out for me to start writing up, along with the rest of it so that it sounded like a proper story instead of just scribbled bullet points.
Once we’d completed the last segment I dropped back in the armchair and let out a sigh of relief. I felt as though a weight had been scraped from my mind. That’s when I noticed that Casper was up and getting ready to leave. I frowned and was just about to tell him not to go when my eyes drifted past his head to the window; it was already dark outside and small flakes of snow could be seen drifting down like silver specs against the black sky. I stood up and shrugged into my coat and followed him wordlessly out into the cold air. It bit down against my skin and I shivered violently, wanted desperately to just stay in the coffee shop for the rest of the night. I blew into my hands and rubbed them together as I hurried to fall into step with Casper.
“Hey wait up!” I called out to him, surprised that he’d stopped at all before I’d crossed the few strides between us.
He sighed, his breath rising up in front of his collar before he turned those pale grey eyes up to face me, “Look, Fletcher, you’re a really er … great guy?” he sounded terribly unconvincing but I didn’t interrupt as he stiffened and looked away, “But we can’t be in a relationship. So I’d appreciate if you didn’t go down that road. It wouldn’t benefit you in any way.”
I blinked in surprise and couldn’t resist letting out a chuckle. “You realise we’re going back to the same place right? And that I am going to either walk beside you like we know one another or follow you like a creepy stalker. Frankly, I’d prefer the first option, if you don’t mind. And seeing as we’re staying in the same dorm building I figured some company on the way back wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” I looked down at him as he had the decency to look both affronted and sheepish all at the same time before his usual look of stoic indifference slid back into place, “Am I wrong?”
He peered up at me and frowned heavily as he turned away. “Do what you want. My statement still stands though,” he added as an afterthought over his shoulder.
I smiled and shook my head before striding quickly to keep up with him. I stuffed my hands into my pockets as we fell into stride with one another. Isabel would no doubt be pissed that I hadn’t gone to seek her out during the rest of the day, but if she was going to waste my time on this project then she could sulk all she wanted.
“So,” my voice sounded loud in my ears compared to the deathly silence of the night around us, “Why would getting involved with you be a bad idea?”
He stopped dead in his tracks and whipped around to look at me. “Seriously?” he snapped, “You couldn’t just let that go?”
I shook my head, “When I get told I can’t do something, I generally would like to know why.”
He gave me an incredulous look that bordered on manic before he sneered. It was the most animated I’d seen his face all day, “I don’t like being touched. I told you this. I hate it and being in a relationship requires some level of being able to touch the other person.”
I frowned at his words, the crystal clear clarity of them sinking into my brain and clearing my vision. “Wait, you’re serious?” I let out a breath and reached up to rub the back of my neck, “I just thought you were exaggerating about that.”
He gave me a dirty look before shaking his head and looking away in disgust, “No, it’s the truth. I … I have haphephobia. That’s why I choked you.”
I blinked in surprise, “You really don’t like being touched so much it’s developed into a phobia?” He nodded his head and averted his eyes, hitched his bag up on his shoulder and then started walking up along the road again. “Wait, Casper!” I hurried to fall back into step with him, “So what is it? You don’t like touching skin or you don’t like hugs?” He snorted at me but shook his head. Was that a no to both of my questions? “Hey look, I’m not even saying I want a relationship with you but … Why would it be such a bad thing?”
He looked up at me as though I was insane. “Because it’s a phobia, Fletcher, you can’t just get over it for ‘the one’ or any of that crap. It doesn’t work that way, as I keep telling the bloody psychiatrists!” he snapped his words out, the wind making every sound tear and rip through my skin and chill my bones. I shuddered and drew my collar up higher around my face. He turned and stalked in the direction of campus. I didn’t really have any choice but to follow him. I didn’t say anything more to him, though. He seemed like he wanted to be left alone and I was more than happy to leave him to it.
Once we were inside the main office doors, he went ahead to our dorm building whilst I stopped off to take my medication. Once everything was sorted out I came away feeling a little better and more than desperate to sleep. I couldn’t remember doing anything more than dumping my bag and shoes on the floor before collapsing face-down on my bed and sighing as I succumbed to sleep.
My moans filled my ears as soft hands traced over my skin and leaving burning trails their wake. Every part of my body was alive and floating under the feeling of those soft hands, the fingertips tickling and teasing wherever they touched until that mouth ghosted over my skin –those lips –how could something be so perfect? I cou
ld moan until eternity surpassed me and I wouldn’t care. I felt so relaxed and alive under those wandering hands that I didn’t want to wake up.
I could feel his lips brushing against my throat and his fingers threading and clutching at my hair. Normally I didn’t like to be out of control but this time it just felt right. I was more than willing to submit and let those hands work their fiery magic on my skin.
There was the flash of a smirk and pearly grey eyes swam into view –
I jerked awake to the sound of my alarm blaring. I panted heavily and slapped the damn thing off before running my hands through my hair and then over my racing heart. “Fuck!” I cursed under my breath as I shuddered and drew my warm duvet around my shoulders. I looked around the room and winced at the bitter taste at the back of my throat. My skin felt slick and greasy. I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut before forcing myself to roll out of bed. Maybe a shower would clear my head, and maybe just maybe, I could figure out what the hell that dream had been about.
Chapter Eight
Over the next few days I managed to patch things up with Isabel and she apologised saying that it was her time of the month –because I needed to know, right? –and she didn’t mean to snap at me after the week I’d had concerning my medication. I didn’t mention Casper and I had hung out for the rest of the day, as quiet as it was, and she didn’t even bring his name up. I told her I had finally made a decent story arc with the notes I’d gotten. She didn’t seem to mind too much about her own ones being scribbled out as the overall effect seemed to be a good one, and she’d contributed to that, so over-all it seemed as though everyone was content on the way the group was progressing so far.
I was in such a peaceful frame of mind that I even managed to draft out the filler segments that I was doing, however when I looked back on them I couldn’t help but frown at how dark they sounded compared to how light I’d been feeling at the time of writing them. It made me feel a little odd inside as I traipsed from lesson-to-lesson.
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