Chapter 3 || But Your Eyes Show It

Unedited.

BUT YOUR EYES SHOW IT

I like Romeo and Juliet.

I like the way the both of them meet a gruelling death. I like the tragedy; the twist; the sense of dread that lies hidden at every corner. I like the context, the drive, the themes.

But unfortunately, I lost my book.

And now I'm on my way to the library to secure a copy before class begins, because I didn't want Mr. Williams angry at me. Not again. It was hard enough to get him to reciprocate, I can't imagine having to go through all that again.

I probably would burst into tears this time (like I did the day before after class was over).

Entering the library, I inhale the stuffy air of the vintage atmosphere, crossing over to the stall filled with classic literature. I skim my hands over the vintage books that lie in wait to be read, rapidly searching for the one I need.

The cheesy titles I see seem to seduce me, but with all my willpower I avoid plucking them out to satisfy my curiosity, knowing that if I do that, it will mark the end of my concentration.

A funny idea crosses my thoughts. I'm unable to bite back the smile that drifts over my face as I casually look left and right to make sure no one is around.

Stealthily, I whisper to myself, "o Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, O Romeo?"

"What on Earth?"

A gasp flies out of my mouth as I turn to my right, eyes widening in utter horror. When I see the apple of my eyes standing not far off, his electrifying blue orbs burning a path into me, I suddenly wish that I didn't exist.

"Namora?"

Like a fish unable to speak, I stare at him, at loss for words.

"Namora?" He enquires again, his tone signalling his skepticism.

"Sir...?" I inhale breathlessly, "what're you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." He chastises, closing the book in his hands as he walks towards me, "but I won't, because I'm not a nosy teenager."

I prepare myself for the backlash as he opens his mouth again, his blue eyes sparkling a devilish red, "why were you mumbling lines from Romeo and Juliet to yourself?"

"I..."

"Should I escort you to a mental asylum? Because I think that's where you belong."

"I- uh..." I'm at a loss for words, mouth agape as he nears me. I still can't seem to be able to shake off the effect he has on me, and I hate it.

Not only that, but his verbal remarks are as sharp as knives. And all of it together is just too overwhelming for me; my sensitive heart can't handle this.

"I... I thought you said you weren't a nosy teenager, so why ask this question?" I fire back with as much willpower as I can muster, and he seems to pause, allowing me time to recuperate and blink back any tears.

"That is besides the point, you mannerless girl. Answer my question." He demands, his blue eyes scorching me; and like a sorry servant, I obey.

"I lost my book so I came to look for a copy... and I thought it would be funny if I did this... just to entertain myself..." I twiddle my thumbs with my hands, and peek up at him from underneath my eyelashes. It's the truth, but I don't know if he'll buy it.

"Is this the way you entertain yourself?" He asks, disbelief evident in his voice, "but then again, I don't know what I'd expected from a friendless girl."

Ouch. It felt as if he threw a dagger into my heart.

I swallow, wringing my hands together, wanting to say, "well... at least I can entertain myself. You seem lonely too, you know. With that permanent frown etched on your face and nothing entertaining to do!"

Instead, I say, "I'm sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable, but I won't apologise for entertaining myself with this innocent gesture. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to look for the book."

And then I turn back to the shelf, feeling his scorching gaze on me as my trembling hands run amock, trying to find the fúcking book. Where was it?

"How did you lose your book?" He says, and I turn to look up at him, determined to shoo him away. But when I see his hesitation, I do a double take. The expression on his face seems to have changed; it almost looks like it softened.

And then I notice the small drying tear that escaped my eye, and I curse inwardly. Fúck me. Why do I keep embarrassing myself in front of him?

"Um... um..." I run a hand through my long black hair in frustration, beginning to pace so that I can come to terms with the fact that I semi-cried in front of him quickly and finally move on with my life.

"Yesterday after class, I went to the cafeteria to do the homework you'd assigned... and I ended up leaving my book there. When I went back to look for it, it was gone."

I bite my lip as he furrows his eyebrows, processing my answer.

"Who on Earth forgets their book in the cafeteria?"

"Me. But you didn't acknowledge the fact that I was doing your homework!" I say, clearly frustrated beyond my wits. I don't know how much more I can tolerate.

"I have no need to acknowledge that fact, it's your duty as a student to do your homework."

"Oh my God! Why are you so-"

"Shhhhh!" I turn to see the librarian giving me a dirty look, and I turn back to Mr. Williams helplessly, looking back at me with his expressionless face. Safe for his eyes, which show how amused he really is.

"You think this is funny?"

"I never did say that."

"But your eyes show it."

"Eyes aren't windows to the soul, that's a fable. But I should have known that an idiot like you would believe in such a stupid thing."

I feel like ripping my hair off of my head. But at the same time, I also feel my heart being stabbed a thousand times with a dagger.

Calm down, Namora.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

After having calmed down, I move over to the shelf and once again begin my search. Mr. Williams' amused eyes follow me.

Before he can give me another snarky remark of his, I ask, "what brings you to the library, Mr. Williams?"

He narrows his eyes at my leveled tone, and I can't help quirking a smile. Two can play this game.

"I was looking for something."

"Did you find that something?"

"Yes, and unfortunately for you, this something I have will leave you with nothing."

I furrow my brows, turning to him with an uneasy frown.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, holding up his book. My eyes widen in rhythm with his eyes which begin to twinkle mischievously.

"I'm holding the last copy of Romeo and Juliet from this library."

I just stand there gaping at him, utterly helpless, as he gives me a victorious smirk- the first expression I've seen from him- and then turns around to walk away.

"Good luck finding another copy."

He turns again half-heartedly, "oh, and ask God for help before you walk into my class without the book. You'll need it."