“I’d love to read the things you write,” I finally say.
She swallows but nods before turning to her work.
She does every small assignment I give her, but I can feel her reluctance as she hands her work to me. I understand her hesitance. The assignments I give have never been just some words
thrown to the paper for her; they were all real. Too real and painful with all the emotions each word carries.
No matter how hard it is to read the pain she paints with every word she chooses, I can’t wait to read more from her. Getting a glimpse in her head and of her life is addicting, and I’m obsessed.
That’s why my eyes keep turning to her, trying to catch every expression on her face while she writes. The other students hand me their papers one by one, and I give them permission to leave early. I don’t question my motives to do such thing as I know letting others go will leave Evangeline and me alone. Maybe that’s what I’m actually trying to do. I don’t know. I don’t recognize myself when I’m around her. Everything about her is messing with my mind, making me act like a virgin boy.
When she's done writing, I catch her wipe her eyes, trying to hide the movement. She would be successful if I weren't watching her like a hawk. Especially, now that we don't have an audience.
She picks up her bag and walks toward me. I try not to stare at her body, but damn that's hard.
“Here,” she hands me her paper.
Our fingers touch briefly, and I can't stop myself from taking her hand and pulling her to me. A whoosh of breath escapes from her plump lips. It's a reaction I want to replay in my mind over and over. Her sweet scent fills my lungs, and I can't help but lean in closer to her. Her eyes widen with surprise, anticipation, and something more. Something more carnal, matching my feelings intensify inside me. She licks her lips, and I groan. Lifting my hand, I trace the line of that mouth with my fingers. A rosy color paints her cheeks, but her body sways closer to mine. Wanting my touch, needing my proximity.
"Elijah," she breathes out, and I want to hear my name louder from her lips. I want to grab her and place her on the desk, so I can do my best to summon the loudest moans from her lips. My dick twitches in my jeans and my hands fall to her waist, pulling her closer to me. She gasps when my hardness pokes her in her belly, and I groan. Her hands slowly find their place on my chest, and I want those small hands wrapped around my cock more than I want my next breath.
“Eva,” I gruff, pressing her gorgeous body against mine. It feels too good to stop, but I have to stop. I know it. If I don’t take a step back, I’ll come in my pants without even doing anything. Having her body flushed against mine is all I need to lose my mind.
“What are we doing?” she whispers and I want to kiss her.
I swallow. “I don’t know,” I whisper.
Our lips are so close. It would be so easy to kiss her right now, but what happens after that? I was such a dick to her all week, and now I'm ready to eat her alive. What will she feel when we've done what I have in mind? Used. That's how she'll feel because I didn't even give her a reason to believe that I'm good, that I won't hurt her.
That's what stops me even though all I want to do is to kiss her like there's no tomorrow. But instead, I take a small step back and push a strand of dark hair behind her ear, smiling down at her.
“I’ll see you at home, Evangeline,” I murmur.
She nods, a small smile teases her lips like she can’t dare make it a full-blown smile.
But even a small smile makes her eyes shine and her skin glow.
God, this girl is making me feel all the things I've never felt before. When she finally leaves the classroom, I pull my hair. My need for her is like never-ending hunger.
I look back and forth between the stories I need to read on my desk and to the door where she's just left. Sighing, I sit on my chair behind my desk. I should do some writing and then read these stories, because I know if I go back home right now, I’m afraid I’ll do things I shouldn’t.
Here, I'm forced to have some distance at least.
After some good hours writing, I shut my laptop and start reading the stories. I put hers under all of the others, but hers is the one I'm the most excited and curious about. I read the stories fast, just like the way a kid reads through the newspaper. I don't bother to point out the grammatical errors in them, I'm lucky I actually have some ideas on what they're about. But when I reach Evangeline's paper, I hold my breath with anticipation.
Leaning back in my chair, I give all my attention to her words.
Once upon a time, far, far away, there was a kingdom. A queen who always smiled, a king whose lap carried his kids. A princess who was happy to live with her beautiful family, and the little prince who expressed his thoughts with one worded sentences.
They had everything they could possibly need and there was no problem in their kingdom. The family’s days were full of love and laughter. And their happiness seemed bulletproof, like nothing could touch them.
But every story has a villain, and in this one, the villain was their beloved daughter. She was cursed by the wicked witch named Life. A curse no one knew about until it was too late.
On one of the many happy days, the king decided to take his family to the river. Their kingdom was surrounded with water, so swimming was a requirement to the royal family. They didn't take any of the maids with them. They wanted it to be just them, a simple family on that beautiful day.
The king was just a father then. No duties for the kingdom were in his mind. He started to teach his daughter how to swim while the queen played with the little prince. Time passed and the family got hungry, but they couldn't find the picnic basket they brought with them. So, the king and the queen, as the responsible parents they were, decided to hunt something to feed their kids. They headed into the depth of the woods, leaving the prince and the princess behind.
The Princess was just seven years old, even though she liked to act older than her age. She played with the little prince, teaching him new words to add his three-year-old vocabulary. But when a colorful butterfly got the princess' attention, she decided it would make her brother happy. She decided she needed to catch it for the little prince.