Chapter 15 || Feel and Accept Me

HEAVILY UNEDITED. // you guys are, perhaps, gonna like this chapter!

FEEL AND ACCEPT ME.

I stand, leaning against the pillar, watching people rush towards their cars as the drizzle gets harsher and harsher, to the point that it turns into a storm.

I have mixed feelings about what I'd seen earlier. Torn. But still hopeful. At least, that's what I tell myself. I'm in denial.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

Savannah told me he might have. But I don't want to believe her, not yet. I need answers, and I know I will find them from Mr. Williams.

I don't care if I seem too nosy, I'm not going to sit here while he romances another woman under my nose.

His wife deserves better.

I flinch, as if I'd just slapped myself.

I'm such a hypocrite.

Why am I even doing this?

Looking down at my watch, a frown pulls at my face. I understand we're supposed to go when there's no one around, but the last car just left. And he still isn't here.

His tardiness doesn't help the guilt, which seems to tug at every string of my heart. I find myself descending the steps, moving farther away from the entrance.

Maybe it would be better if I just go... He already has someone else to entertain him anyway.

He doesn't need me.

I'm just a burden.

Fúck.

My heart seems like it's on fire in my chest, and I'm suffocating from the rain pelting above me.

And as the droplets begin to gently lap at my face, I take another step down, embracing the coolness that beckons me.

It seems to quench the fire in my heart, leaving me a quivering mess as the water drenches my clothes, dampening me to the core.

Extinguishing the fire inside me.

I look up into the eye of the storm, reaching a hand up to feel the harshness of the pelting rain. It feels nice. Slithering through my fingers, coming to land on my face, free from my locks of hair which have stuck to my back in the aftermath.

I'm emotionally numb.

"Na- what on earth are you doing?" I hear Mr. Williams yell from behind me, but I don't turn around.

I can't.

That's when I hear violent steps descending the steps, and before I know it, big hands are clutching at my skinny arms, and I'm turned around to face a very furious, very red-faced Mr. Williams.

I breathe out shakily, enjoying the feel of his hands on my skin. Looking at him underneath my eyelashes.

"Hi."

"Hi-? Namora, what are you doing?" He all but growls, tugging me towards shelter.

And I do something I thought I would never do- I push his hands off of me.

Both of us seem shocked at my actions, and Mr. Williams looks down at me, his blue eyes searching for answers which I can't seem to bring.

I watch the way the rain cascades down his build, causing his clothes to stick to his muscles, a sense of deja-vu washing through me.

I trace the droplets falling from his eyelashes with my orbs, relishing in the fact that he just stands there, waiting for my next move.

"Who is Ms. Lopen to you?"

He narrows his eyes at me, nostrils flaring, "I don't need to answer that. Quit being childish and get in the car, it's pouring."

I shake my head, taking a step towards him, so close that I can almost hear the steady beat of his heart within his chest. Opposite to my own, which seems to be hammering a mile a minute.

"I saw her coming into your classroom when I went out. And she closed the door," I have no right to say anything, I know, it's none of my business.

But I can't ignore my feelings, and him being aware of my 'crush' on him, he should respect them.

Right?

He pinches the bridge of his nose, an attempt to quench his anger, but before he can say anything snarky, I plaster myself against him in an effortless hug.

If he says anything snarky right now, I know it would break me. It would break my heart.

"Don't say anything mean, please," I murmur weakly, but I know he's heard me. The way he stiffens tells me a lot.

And I don't know how long we stand there, me hanging onto him for dear life, soothing myself with the beat of his heart, before a devilish idea strikes me.

Throwing away my insecurities, I plaster my breasts against his chest, knowing that my clothes would be sticking to me like second skin.

And I hear his harsh intake of breath, jaw clenching, the way he attempts to pull away from me, his arms pushing me as my soft globes rub against his muscles.

"Shít."

It's the first time I hear him curse, and boy does it do things to me. I feel tingles everywhere. And boy does it plunge me into a state of utter euphoria.

I brush away his resisting hands, reveling in the way he feels pressed against me. Knowing my nípples are brushing against his chest, and there's nothing he can do to at that very moment except feel and accept me- all of me- planted against him.

"Namora, stop."

The warning tone in his voice makes me look up at him with a pout.

"Let go," his blue eyes pierce through me, his jaw clenching, forcing me to obey. I step away from him, immediately missing the warmth his body provided.

Before he can say anything else, I reiterate, "who is Ms. Lopen to you?"

For a second he just stares at me, saying nothing, his expression blank and eyes void of emotions. But I notice how confused he feels, how he seems to be battling between calling me out on my previous actions or answering my question.

But then he opens his mouth, and the relief that washes through me is immeasurable when he does the latter.

"She's my half-sister."

The smile back onto my face, I don't waste a second before linking my hands with his and tugging him towards his car, the sounds of the rain dancing at our feet as we run through the eye of the storm.

Water droplets collapsing against us, parallel to the way I'm collapsing- for him.

I embrace the pelting rain, relishing in the droplets that plaster themselves against my brown skin, watching the way Mr. Williams' eyes seem to light up as we both tear through the storm.

I'm euphoric, and he probably sees it on my face as he stares down at me, almost transfixed- yet not yet mesmerized; admiring- yet not yet adoring; a toothy grin settling over my face at his lost expression.

Lost, in thoughts.

But he isn't lost, he's with me.

Actually, he's lost, but with me.

And I don't want him to find his way back.

He moves to open the door for me, and I slide in, unaware of how I'm wetting his carseat.

Getting in, the first thing he says is, "wear your seatbelt."

"Yes, dad," I huff, but still at the slip-up. Fúck me and my stupid mouth.

"Dad?" He raises his eyebrows. I can see the wheels turning in his head.

"Sorry, it's a slip of the tongue, I swear I didn't mean that!" I squeak out, fixing him with a guilty look.

He shakes his head, turning back to face the road as he starts the car and begins driving.

"Namora, what was that out there?" Instead of his harsh, scolding tone which he usually uses for me as if I'm a child, his voice is soft and careful.

As if he doesn't want to begin treading on risky waters.

But little does he know that he's already standing over thin ice, and it is singing; cracking; soon enough going to drag him into the cold waters hidden below it.

Into my arms.

"I'm sorry, I just needed a hug," I say shakily, knowing it isn't going to suffice.

"Why did you-"

"I was cold, okay? I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"Namora, do you take me for an idiot?" His voice is low. Deadly low. Warningly low.

As if telling me that he's about to erupt any second.

I quiver in my seat, not wanting to face his wrath again. Not after that magical moment outside.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault," I murmur, bringing my knees up to press against my chin, almost curling myself into a ball.

Mr. Williams watches me from the corner of his eyes, a concerned expression over his features.

"I strongly advise you to seek therapy to help yourself with this..." He flicks his gaze over me, "...this... situation."

"Maybe you're right," I whimper, shivering, and he stops the car in the middle of the road.

"Mr. Williams-?" I shoot him a look of confusion, anxiously turning around to see if there are cars behind us.

The road is deserted.

"Are you cold?"

I turn back to see the beautiful man rifling through some articles in the backseat.

Then he throws a sweater at me.

I catch it, looking down at it with a hesitant smile, "thank you."

I'll keep it forever.

"No worries," he murmurs, watching me fiddle with the sweater.

I have five seconds to act.

I look at him again, see the way his blue eyes are studying me, the way his mouth is frowning in discontent, the way his hands are clenched around the steering wheel.

And so, fully aware of my own vulnerability, I begin to unzip my wet jacket, the only piece of clothing I'm wearing other than a bra, right in front of his very blue eyes.

Relishing in the expression that immediately paints his face.

Oh, how we love surprising each other. Perhaps I loved doing it just a tad too much.