Chapter 10 || Tell Me to Stop, Or...

HEAVILY UNEDITED.

Again, I wrote this without looking through it, so please don't mind !

TELL ME TO STOP, OR...



Shít, it's raining...

I look up at the cloudy sky above, the rain already pelting down heavily, steady thrumming of droplets collapsing against the rooftop, as my brows pull together in frustration. How on Earth am I supposed to walk home in this weather?

And just when I didn't bring my umbrella, too...

I sigh, slouching against the pillar at the entrance of school as I watch the other students exit, some lagging behind while others hurried to their cars, bikes, buses and everything.

I guess I'll have to wait for the rain to calm down, I think to myself as I look up at the sky and avoid the gazes of the other students who are curreny staring at me as if I am their hot topic of interest (which I probably was).

"This is one of the many reasons why you shouldn't be a loner."

"She should've made some friends when she had the chance."

"Should we give her our umbrella?"

"No... somebody else will help."

The murmurs reverberating around me make me inhale shakily, fisting my hands. I look down at my feet and keep my gaze nailed to the floor until I hear nothing but the rain hitting the cobalt floor.

Gradually, they all leave, even most of the teachers, who only spare me one glance before hurrying to their own cars and driving away.

Soon enough, only the sounds of the rain hitting the cobalt floor and the beat of my heart resound.

The area is empty- safe for me, standing there under the shelter of the entrance.

I feel tears accumulating into my eyes when I realize that no one offered to help me. No one even cared whether or not I'll be able to get home or not in this weather.

No one.

And it hits me like a brick a second time. The fact that I was, am, and will always be truly alone.

I look up at the sky again, letting the tears gush freely, the small pebbles of rain rushing to camouflage my tear-stained cheeks. Releasing all my pent-up frustrations in the ragged sobs that rack through me, while I tremble.

God, why do I even exist? Isn't it better if I just... die?

"...Namora...?"

I look up anxiously, wiping away my tears with the sleeves of my sweater when I hear the deep, velvety voice of my favorite person.

Unintentionally saving me from the chaos of my thoughts, as he stands there in all his glory, nursing an umbrella in his left hand and his car keys in the other.

When my bloodshot mahogany gaze clashes against his conflicted, questioning blues, I inhale shakily and almost can't help myself from spilling my feelings. It's as if my subconscious knows I can trust him with my life.

And that in itself, is scary.

"I walk home... and I don't have an umbrella and... no one..." I stop, taking a deep breath as I shake my head, "no one offered to help me out. So now I'm just..."

And I see it, clear as day, the pity that swarms in the depths of his blues as he looks at me- really looks at me, in a different light. Probably seeing me for the pathetic girl I've always been. The side of me I never wanted him to see- me crying, sad, vulnerable, chaos in his eyes.

"Namora..." He sighs, running a hand through his blond locks and tussling them. It's then that I see the heavy bags under his eyes, and I catch my breath.

"I'm sorry... I-I'll just run home..." I say, my voice cracking as I take one step towards the tempest that taunts me, beckoning me forward.

His face, which was tired albeit void of emotions, instantly softens. And it scares me how my heart reacts by skipping a beat. Curse him for still managing to look beautiful in such an exhausted state.

"No. I will not let you walk home in such a state. Jesus, Namora, I'm going to drop you home," he says, looking both ways before taking a few steps forward and pulling me away from the downpour.

I stand there, genuinely surprised, my arm in his satin-like grip. I can't help my eyes getting teary again.

He looks down at me, immediately releasing my arm, exasperated, "why are you crying now?"

"I'm just... Thank you so much, Mr. Williams, you have no idea how much I appreciate you... you... You're an angel..." I'm unable to say any more, lips wobbling. So pathetic.

Why am I getting so emotional? Why can't I make proper sentences? Why am I so fúcking stupid?

"Please, let's go," he begins awkwardly, obviously not able to deal with me in my state of vulnerability, "my car is-"

"I... I know. The golden... Porsche," I say impulsively, pointing at the car which stands not far off, my fingers quivering.

He looks at me in disbelief.

"How did you know?"

"I... I..." I look around frantically, trying to swallow away my tears. Think fast, think fast...

"Leave it. The rain's getting worse, follow me," he grumbles out, throwing his umbrella towards me before he stalks out into the pouring rain.

With nothing to shield him from the tempest above.

I watch the way the rain immediately drenches him to the core, his shirt sticking to his back, tracing his muscular stature, outlining his tall dominant silhouette, but I force myself to come back to reality with a breathy inhale.

Looking down at the umbrella, I shake my head before opening it and rushing towards him as fast as I can.

I won't let him just do what he wants. Does he really think I'd just let him get wet in the rain while I use his umbrella? I'm not selfish.

He turns around when he hears my violently approaching footsteps, and furrows his brows. Immediately afterwards, his tinted blues widen when I near him.

Or more precisely, they widen when I step too close for comfort, rising to the tips of my toes in order to be able to cover his already wet head with the umbrella. Which also made my face almost level with his own as a consequence.

A few seconds pass, with him only standing there looking down at me emotionlessly, while I look up at him bravely, already knowing that my face has unmasked my adoration for him.

But I make no move to hide it. He should see how much I adore him.

I watch the small droplets of water escape his hairline and meet his pale eyelashes, tracing his eyelids before slithering down to his plump, rosy lips.

My breaths get harsher when I begin to process how close I am to him, heart hammering away in my chest.

Is this really happening? Am I really this close to him? He's letting me be this close to him? Why am I so affected?

But I'm loving every second of it, I realize amidst all the questions that dance away in my mind, as I impulsively reach up to trace his jaw with my fingers.

And he lets me.

I caress his blond stubble, leading my trembling finger up to his rosy lips.

And he lets me.

The moment is magical; truly vivacious and enticing, as I watch the way his expression shifts, the way he clenches his hands into fists at his side.

He still makes no move to stop me.

I trace his jawline again, letting my hands feel the rough texture of his face, feel the hotness of his cheeks, the stickiness of this temptation.

And he lets me.

"Mr. Williams," I breathe compulsively, my voice thick with emotion, mahogany orbs shining up at him.

Tell me to stop, or I'll kiss you.

And I think that's what snaps him out of his trance of utter blankness.

He pushes my hand away lightly, glaring down at me as if I'd just killed his cat. His expression seems angry- uncontrolled and betrayed.

"Namora, what on earth do you think you're doing?"

He seems as if he wants to say something more, but the rain begins to fall much harsher than before, and he pushes me forward towards his vehicle.

"Get in."

The underlying dominance in his voice sends shivers down my spine, and I, not contemplating the severity of my actions, immediately open his car door, making myself comfortable in the environment- which smells oddly like him. I shake my head when I see the tempest that would've befallen me had I chosen to run home from the window of his car.

Thank God this man was here.

Otherwise I don't know what would have happened to me.

The door opens, and I turn around to look at him with a bright smile on my face.

Which immediately deflates when I see the hard, grave expression framing his picturesque features.

"We need to talk."

I pale, and it's as if I've just come out of a trance, with the gravity of the situation washing over me.

I feel like I'm suffocating.

And his accusatory glare isn't helping.

Fúck my life.