Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I'm just fooling around. Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters.
2.
"Hey, whatcha scribbling away for?" I feel his breath on my ear as his velvety voice sends my heart into a pandemic. He furrows his brows as he analyzes my multiple sketches from the past hour. "You've been drawing a lot, haven't you?" His soft murmur brings back hazy and unwanted memories, and all of a sudden I feel claustrophobic.
I shrink under his scrutiny as his vivid eyes search and dig through mine. I don't know what he's looking for and I can't help but get lost in the shades of emerald.
A quiet, "What happened to you?" makes me drop my gaze and shift uncomfortably as I snap my sketchbook shut. I feel his forefinger and thumb tipping my chin up and I close my eyes, wishing he would stop being so inquisitive.
We've been detention buddies for a week, and he's told me how lonely it is, when you're not supposed to speak to anyone, not even teachers. You can't attend class, but you still have to come to school at 8a.m. to serve detention till 3p.m.. Well, for him, at least. Two more weeks and my punishment would end - unless I "vandalize" school property again - but for him... He doesn't know.