Chapter Ten
809 Words
MARIAM'S POV
I arrived at the lecture hall on campus early today, and there were only a few colleagues there, not up to twenty.
Seyram wasn't there yet.
I had slept early the night before, which is why I woke up early.
I sat by the window in the middle of the first column and took out my phone to play a game before the lecture started.
I was so engrossed that I didn't notice Miguel standing next to me until he tapped my shoulder.
I turned to see him looking at me with an unfamiliar expression.
''Is anything wrong?'' I asked, confused about why he had tapped me.
His eyes briefly lingered on my mouth before he looked away, shaking his head as if clearing his thoughts. He was acting strangely.
We had interacted before, during our first year, when I helped him find a chair a few times, but this was different.
I developed a crush on him the first day I met him during our first year.
Nobody knows about my feelings, not even my best friend, because I'm skilled at concealing my emotions.
He's handsome, tall, and well-proportioned, with a strong jawline, defined cheekbones, captivating eyes, and well-groomed hair that's naturally neat and free of blemishes, with a caramel skin tone that gives him a distinctive look similar to a Black American.
He looked back at me and said in a cold tone, ''You're sitting in my place.''
I furrowed my brow, confused, and asked, ''What?'' given the unexpected claim. I clarified,
''This is a public lecture hall, first-come-first-served, and I arrived before you, so what do you mean it's your place?''
His annoyed expression suggested he was trying to contain his frustration.
He breathed out a sigh and said in a stern tone,
''I mean this is my usual sitting spot, and I'm comfortable here. Can you move somewhere else?''
His expression was challenging, but I stood firm.
Notably, he hadn't said please. I replied, ''No, I also like it here, so I'm not going anywhere."
''But you haven't sat here before, so why now?'' he asked, meeting my gaze.
''That's because you always arrive before me,'' I replied, breaking eye contact.
''So you've noticed,'' he said, sounding surprised.
"Wh-what? I-I don't know you sit here,'' I stuttered, trying to maintain a straight face, but a hint of amusement slipped through.
He arched an eyebrow, clearly not finding it funny.
I decided to just give him the seat as our little spat was drawing attention from our colleagues. The hall is half full now, but Seyram is still not here.
"Okay, fine, here you go," I stood up and made way for him to sit.
I decided to sit at the front and wait for Seyram.
Before I could step away, he held my hand, making me halt. I shivered slightly, looking at our joined hands.
Something felt off; I mean, there was no sun, and it was morning, but I was feeling hot.
His grip was firm but not tight, and his hands were warm, clean, and nice.
He must have noticed my reaction, so he let go of my hand, saying sorry.
I was so lost in thought that I didn't catch what he said next.
I couldn't help but want him to hold my hand again; I felt empty when he let go.
'What's wrong with you, Mariam? Wake up! He's not even your boyfriend; in fact, we're not even friends,' I mentally scolded myself.
"You can sit here," he said in a low tone, making me look at him.
What? Did he just want me to stand up so he could offer the seat back to me, or had he decided to sit somewhere else? I gave him a confused look.
"I mean, you can sit here beside me; there are two chairs," he explained.
"No, thank you," I replied.
I don't think I could trust myself around him, as his presence was a little disturbing. I'd been attracted to handsome men before and remained composed, but with him, it felt different.
"That's not an offer; you're sitting here because we have a discussion to do," he said in a pissed tone.
"What discussion are you talking about?" I asked him. What did he mean by that? He wasn't supposed to be pissed; I should be.
"Didn't you get a notification on our w******p group? We're in the same group with three of our colleagues," he said, looking at me like I wasn't serious.
"What group are you talking about? I haven't been on w******p for a while; I was busy," I told him, trying to recall why we'd be in a group and what for.
"Yeah, busy playing games on your phone," he muttered something I couldn't catch.
"What are you saying?" I asked, still confused about the group.
- Writer
