Chapter 7: ALMOST, BUT NOT QUITE
1813 Words
Chapter 7: Almost, But Not Quite
They ended up in an empty classroom.
"Is this place haunted or something?" Mia muttered as she stepped inside, wrinkling her nose.
The classroom smelled of dust and aged wood, the air carrying the faint scent of old chalk and forgotten lessons. Sunlight slanted through the grimy windows, casting long, golden streaks on the worn-out desks. The blackboard was coated with a thin layer of white residue, as if the last lesson written on it had been hastily erased months ago.
Cobwebs clung to the ceiling corners like delicate traps. The silence was thick, save for the occasional creak of the wooden floor when they moved. It was the kind of room that no one really used anymore, tucked away in a quieter wing of the school, perfect for privacy, but also perfect for making Mia’s heart race in ways she did not understand.
Mia eyed the abandoned chairs scattered around the room, hesitating before choosing one that looked somewhat stable. With a small frown, she grabbed the backrest and gave it a firm shake, sending up a small cloud of dust. She slapped at the seat a few times, trying to clear away years’ worth of neglect, before finally sitting down, stiffly, cautiously, as if the chair might betray her at any moment.
Her fingers curled around the edges of the seat, knuckles turning white. The room was dead silent, except for the faint hum of the outside world beyond the grimy windows. She exhaled sharply, trying to ignore the tension crawling up her spine.
Then her gaze drifted to Haze.
Across from her, Haze stood like a living masterpiece.
Tall. Effortlessly confident. Built like a Greek god sculpted in perfection.
His half-Russian blood gifted him sharp, aristocratic features, high cheekbones, a defined jawline, and straight, perfectly carved lips that looked way too tempting for their own good. His skin was flawless, smooth yet sun-kissed, as if the universe itself had been unfairly generous when creating him.
And his eyes, icy blue, deep and piercing, held a glint of amusement, like he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on people.
Mia blinked rapidly. No. Nope. What was she even thinking?
She forcibly looked away, gripping the edge of the chair tighter. This was Haze. Arrogant, insufferable Haze. There was no way she was seeing him any differently now.
…Right?
It was infuriating.
"Alright," he said, voice smooth and deep, sending an involuntary shiver down Mia’s spine. "We’ll go slow. No pressure."
Mia swallowed hard. No pressure. Right.
She nodded way too quickly. "Totally fine."
Haze took a step closer, and the air between them shifted.
He moved with an effortless grace, his broad shoulders rolling slightly as he closed the distance. Even in the simplest movement, there was a quiet power in the way he carried himself, strong, deliberate, commanding.
Mia’s stomach lurched, twisting into knots so tight she was convinced she was going to implode. Her palms went clammy, her heartbeat turned erratic, and a weird fluttering sensation erupted in her chest.
And Haze? He looked completely unaffected.
"You good?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, the corner of his lips twitching upward.
That smirk.
It was the kind of smirk that could ruin lives.
The kind that made girls swoon. That made knees buckle. That should have been illegal.
"Totally fine," she lied.
"Liar."
Mia scowled. "Shut up."
Haze chuckled, but instead of arguing, he took another step closer, slow and deliberate, like he was testing how far he could push her.
Mia’s breath hitched.
Too close. Way too close.
She could see everything too clearly—the way the golden light highlighted the sharp angles of his jaw, the way his lashes framed his piercing blue eyes, the way his scent—Haze smelled annoyingly good—like cedarwood with a hint of vanilla, fresh but warm at the same time. It wasn’t overpowering, just enough to linger in the air between them. Strong, effortless, and somehow familiar, like the kind of scent that stayed on a hoodie long after someone wore it. And now, with him standing this close, Mia couldn’t ignore it.
Her pulse roared in her ears.
Nope. Nope. Not thinking about that.
"Alright," Haze murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "Just say the line."
Mia opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Her brain? Empty. Her mouth? Useless. Her heart? Doing the Macarena inside her chest.
Haze’s smirk widened. "You okay, peppa?"
"Totally fine!" she squeaked.
His lips twitched. "Then say the line."
Mia sucked in a breath. Focus. It was just a scene. She could do this.
She forced herself to meet his gaze, ignoring the way those damn blue eyes were watching her like she was something interesting.
"I—I was never just here to help you win. I—"
Panic. Full-scale, world-ending panic.
Her mind screamed ABORT MISSION.
Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest object—a crumpled tissue from the desk—and hurled it at his face.
Haze blinked. "Did you just—"
"I need a bathroom break!" Mia yelped, jumping off the desk so fast she nearly tripped. "Emergency! Life or death situation!"
Haze caught her wrist before she could escape.
"Oh, hell no," he drawled, his deep, rich voice laced with amusement as he tugged her back slightly. "You’re not running away baby."
Mia froze. Oh no.
His hand was warm. Too warm.
She snatched her wrist back, her heart hammering. "Fine! But don’t—don’t look at me like that!"
Haze raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"Like you—like that," she huffed, waving vaguely at his ridiculously perfect face.
He grinned. "You mean like I know exactly what you’re thinking?"
"I am not thinking anything!" she snapped, voice too defensive to be convincing.
Haze let out a quiet chuckle and took another step forward. Mia instinctively took one backward...until her back hit the teacher’s desk.
Her breath hitched.
Trapped.
Haze braced a hand on the desk beside her, not technically caging her in, but it felt like it.
Mia’s pulse skyrocketed. Her lungs forgot how to work.
"Relax my muse ," Haze murmured, his deep voice like honey, slow and teasing.
"Relax?" she echoed, voice cracking.
"Yeah." He smirked. "It’s just for the play... for winning the game. Just a little practice."
Just practice, she repeated in her head.
Her body didn’t get the memo.
Haze tilted his head slightly, his icy blue gaze flickering down to her lips.
Oh god. This was happening.
Mia’s breath stuttered. Her legs locked up.
He leaned in.
Closer.
So close she could see the slight curve of his lower lip.
Her stomach twisted.
And then—
Disaster.
A deep, unsettling gurgle rolled through her stomach.
Her entire body locked up.
No. No, no, no, not now.
But the panic made it worse. The pressure inside her belly swelled like a ticking time bomb.
Oh god.
Haze was still leaning in. Their noses almost brushed. His lips barely an inch away—
PFFFFFT.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Mia froze.
Haze froze.
The world stopped spinning.
For three solid seconds, neither of them moved.
The tension. The butterflies. The almost-kiss—all gone.
Haze choked. "Did you just—"
Mia’s soul left her body.
"NO!" she screeched, mortified beyond belief. "THAT WAS—THE CHAIR—THE WOOD—SOMETHING ELSE!"
Haze bent over, laughing so hard he had to grip the desk. "Mia—"
"SHUT UP!"
Desperate, she grabbed the nearest object—a notebook—and hurled it at his face.
It smacked against his shoulder. He wheezed.
"Oh my god," she moaned, burying her burning face in her hands. "I AM NEVER LIVING THIS DOWN."
Haze, still half-laughing, wiped at his eyes. "Mia, I—holy s**t—"
Before he could finish, she bolted.
“Oh my God—” He bent over again, laughing so hard that his stomach started to hurt.
Mia rushed into the small restroom inside the classroom, slamming the door behind her. She barely had a second to breathe before she heard Haze laughing, loudly.
“Oh my God, peppa—” He gasped between wheezes. “What the hell did you eat? That was—” Another laugh broke out. “That was a literal biohazard!”
Mia groaned, pressing her forehead against the door. “Shut up, Haze!”
“I can’t!” He sounded way too entertained. “That was lethal! Do we need to evacuate the building? Call a priest?”
Mia clenched her fists, seething. This was the most humiliating moment of her life, and he just had to make it worse.
But the worst part? It wasn’t over yet.
She reached for the flush, pressed it—
Nothing.
Her stomach dropped.
She pressed it again. Still nothing.
Panic set in as she scanned the tiny, barely used restroom for anything to save herself. That’s when she noticed...
No toilet paper.
No water.
Mia’s soul left her body.
There was no way she could deal with this alone. But asking Haze for help? That was like signing a lifetime contract of never-ending teasing.
She hesitated. Maybe she could just… stay in here forever? Become one with the tiny, abandoned restroom?
Haze’s voice broke through her horror.
“Uh-oh. You got real quiet in there,” he said, way too smug. “Something wrong, peppa?”
Mia inhaled sharply. Play it cool.
“Nope! All good! Just… taking my time!”
Silence.
Then—
“Ohhh,” he said knowingly. “You’re stuck, aren’t you? You're staying almost two hours there”
Mia squeezed her eyes shut. “Haze—”
“Oh, this just keeps getting better.” He was practically giddy. “First, you nearly killed me, and now you're trapped in your own disaster? Wow. I have never been this happy.”
Mia gritted her teeth. “Just—do you have tissue?”
A beat.
Then, in the most infuriatingly smug voice:
“Hmmm. What’s it worth to you?”
Mia saw red.
“Haze, I swear—”
“Tissue isn’t free, Mia,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “It comes with a price.”
“Haze, give me the damn tissue!”
His laughter echoed through the room before she finally heard movement. A moment later, a few sheets of tissue slid under the door.
“See?” he said, still smug. “I’m a gentleman.”
Mia snatched it up. Took a deep breath.
“Haze?”
“Yeah?”
“When I get out of here…” she paused, voice calm but deadly, “…you better run.”
Outside, Haze just chuckled.
“Looking forward to it.”
- Writer
