Needle in a Haystack

Playful Banter

Emily's heart thumped against her ribs in a sharp staccato, and she focused on breathing deep and slow as she watched her mate make his way towards her down the crowded hall looking like an avenging angel. The fury in his expression surprised her, and although she could guess what he was mad about, she couldn't understand why. But still she was drawn to him. He wanted her to reject him at dawn this morning, right when she came back from the Lady of Dream's realm. She wouldn't have done it anyway, but she had entirely forgotten about the request after her adventures with the Fay. The irritation that sparked in her chest at forgetting ignited when she remembered that he hadn't given her a reason to reject him, only to wait to do so until it was convenient, like matters of the heart could ever be convenient.

He stopped in front of her in the middle of the hall, and she stopped just short of running into him, determined not to let his mouthwatering scent distract her. She was seething and the pounding rhythm of her heart had taken on a new beat. She glared up at him and his mask of anger slipped for a moment, but not long enough for her to tell what was underneath, before he fixed it firmly in place with a scowl.

"Why didn't you do what I asked?" he growled without even a greeting.

"Do you always start conversations this way?" she shot back.

"Are you always this stubborn?" he volleyed. Her nostrils flared and he looked smug.

"Are you?" she asked, sounding to herself like a child in the school yard.

'I know you are, but what am I,' Ember chimed in with a singsong, sniveling accent, mocking the exchange. Emily ground her teeth to keep from smiling.

"Whatever," he grumbled after a beat and stalked off down the hall. Emily felt like her whole being deflated, her bluster gone with her mate. She sighed, suddenly feeling like her backpack had gained two tons as she trudged off to class.

Her first period dragged on for what felt like hours, but it was really fifty minutes exactly. The last five minutes could have been an hour to themselves, but she took the cue to start packing from her neighbors, determined to find him in the halls between classes. Normally, she was the last person to leave each class, too focused on taking notes to be aware of the time. She now had something more important to her than good grades, or at least more pressing. So instead of waiting for the bell, she packed her books when everyone else started, about a minute before, and, while she wasn't the first one out, she did make it out with the peloton.

Just as she cleared the doorway, a hand shot out and grabbed her elbow, yanking her to the side and out of the stream of students, reminding her vividly of her foray into Fairy via her dreams. She took a deep breath, expecting to have to face Sabine again, but the spicy sweet scent of her mate enveloped her, at once calming her and spiking her straight into irrationality, disintegrating the carefully prepared speech she had worked on all through her first class.

"How dare you?!" she shrieked, drawing the attention of everyone nearby, and jerked her elbow out of his loose grip. "You want me to reject you, but you show up in my classroom. Make up your mind!" And she flipped her ponytail and stormed off down the hall, going the wrong direction. She realized far too late and decided to keep going to save face, making her way to the crowded girls' restroom instead of her next class. She locked herself in a stall and sat there until the tardy bell rang, hot tears of frustration wiping away what little remained of her makeup. She made her way out of the bathroom, wiping her face with a rough paper towel on the way out, and down the hall to the office for a tardy slip, berating herself the entire way for losing her composure.

As Emily pushed open the door to the office, she paused, hearing her mate's voice pleading with the receptionist for "just a few more minutes." Her imagination treated her to an image of the ageless woman and her mate in a lover's embrace, of him begging to stay by her side. She braced herself against the thought and pushed open the door the rest of the way. The first thing she saw was him, leaning against the counter on an elbow, his black backpack slung over the opposite shoulder with his thumb hooked through the strap, his faded blue jeans pulled over the top of heavy work boots. As her eyes traveled back up towards his face, she noticed the pockets of his jeans were fraying at the corners, and his hoodie was pilling and covered in animal fur. When she reached his face, he was staring at her with a smirk on his full pouty lips, his eyes gleaming faintly in the florescent lights from his counterpart peeking at her.

"There she is," he said, pushing off the counter and walking towards her with a swagger. When he broke into a full smile, she couldn't help returning it, even though she was more confused than ever. She was acutely aware they were under scrutiny, being the only ones in the office with the receptionist, who she was almost positive was a dragon shifter like Mr. Drake. Her smile started to slip at the memory of what she'd lost, but she fixed it firmly in place, meeting his eyes with a plastic toothy grin. She was not surprised to see it mirrored back at her, though his was closer to a grimace. He ushered her back into the hall and waved to the receptionist, who only smiled slightly, shook her head, and went back to her filing. There was no doubt in Emily's mind that she could still hear every word they said in the empty hall.