Unbound Affection

Chapter7

Her heart pounded profusely as the students seated by the nearby table gasped and whispered.

“Last night? Were they together?”

“Allen and that girl?”

“What could they have done?”

She shook her head, subtly pushing the voices to the back of her mind. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a deep breath.

“Last night?” Carl repeated, his curiosity visible on his face and voice.

Last night? Why does the word night give them a different idea?

She wanted to speak, but her mind went into overdrive from the voices around her. She pursed her lips and forced a suppressed smile as she looked to her right. Her blood boiled as Allen raised a brow amusingly, his lips twitching. She looked around and swiftly grabbed his hand, and his brows rose as he looked down at their hands, saying nothing. She stood, and he followed. Ignoring the heaving atmosphere, she pulled him outside the canteen. It was not like she dragged him though, as he was already following her. They walked a long way away from the canteen, and her hold on him loosened when they stopped.

“What are you doing?” she growled low. “What do you want?”

Allen looked at her. “What do I want?” He rubbed his chin.

After a moment of silence, he chuckled, and his dry chuckles surprised her.

“Did I demand something?” he asked, with his brows furrowed and head tilted.

Viola remained quiet. She felt like talking to him was just a waste of time. He studied her, and she glared at him, finding courage out of nowhere. She was not afraid this time but was mad at him and wished she could punch his manipulative, handsome face.

He slowly took a step forward, and she stepped back automatically as if her body had been operated to function that way. They never looked away, one looking up in anger while the other looking down in amusement. Everyone who walked past them never missed a chance to take a look at the scene, but their presence did not disturb them.

Allen took another step closer, and she stepped back again. He leaned forward, his hands in his pockets and his tall figure towering over her little one. His body was enough to stop anything coming her way.

“You have no idea . . .” His voice got dangerously low, and his eyes were dark and cold, boring into her.

If eyes could kill, she would be buried deep in the ground right now.

“Of what I want,” he added. The words left his mouth low and clear.

Viola blinked, looking away, and the courage that she had just had a moment earlier drowned. Her toes curled, and she stood still, not moving an inch. Her head moved back, and her gaze fixed on a faraway trash can.

“Are you afraid?” he confronted her.

Her hands formed into fists as she gripped her pants, chewing on her inner cheek.

“Viola.” Her name rolled off his tongue cold and unfriendly. He bent even lower, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Give me a nickname as well!” His voice was low, but clear amusement was visible in his tone.

She blinked multiple times and looked down, still preoccupied by how he said her name. Just from the way he called her, she could say that he was up to no good. For once, her brain focused on one voice, and all other bickering she heard from the surroundings faded.

She glanced at him and noticed his eyes were still on her. Biting her lower lip, she skidded as she bent her already short figure a little backwards to make sure that her body didn’t brush against his. Allen looked at her shoes as she took small steps sideways like she was walking on a thin, high wall.

She straightened her posture as she stood away from him and turned around. The breath she had been holding without her realising it left her lips. She took a step forward and continued without glancing at him.

“I have something that belongs to you,” Allen announced. His voice was not too loud, but it reached her ears.

She stopped midway. “My notebook,” she murmured to herself.

“Your notebook,” Allen said and approached her.

He stopped behind her and leaned forward, his chin a little away from her shoulders. She could feel his breath on her skin, and she licked her lips and gulped, forgetting to blink.

“You want it?” he whispered in her ear.

Chills ran down her spine, and her body stiffened.

“Give it back,” she said in a low, barely audible voice.

Once she realised that it did not come out loud, she stomped forward and turned around.

She looked at him. “Give it back.”

Allen narrowed his eyes and stood straight. “After break,” he said dryly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“After break?” she repeated, puzzled.

He nodded. “Yes, meet me after break. I’ll return it.”

“After break?” she asked again.

“Why do you look shocked?” He chuckled. “Yes, yes, after break.”

“How can I?” she raved. “There’s class.”

“So?” He arched a brow perfectly.

“So . . .” She stopped, knowing he would never understand.

He always skipped classes, and he entered the classroom whenever he wished and left at his own will. How could she expect a person like him to understand how big of a deal it was for her to skip classes?

“If you aren’t on time,” Allen continued as she remained silent, “you will never get it.” With that said, he spun around.

“Wait!”

He stopped.

“Did you see what’s in it?” she asked politely, but her heart prayed to God for the answer to be no.

After a moment of aching silence, he turned and looked at her for a while. Her face said it all; he was able to read her eyes and knew that she was expecting the answer to be no.

“I have”—his lips quirked—“not.” His grin grew as a wave of relief hit her face. “But, if you don’t show up, I’ll definitely flip through the pages,” he added. “Seems like there’s something in it.”