Chapter 11: Games People Play
892 Words
Chapter 11: Games People Play
Kael Veyra’s POV
By the time I made it back to my dorm, my head was spinning. Draven’s words kept echoing in my mind.
You’re the one who gets under my skin.
What was that supposed to mean? And why had he said it like it was some kind of confession?
“You okay?” Livia asked as I dropped onto my bed with a groan.
“No.”
She laughed. “I figured. You look like you just got hit by a very attractive bus.”
“Not helping.”
“Come on, Kael, you can’t tell me you didn’t feel it. The tension between you two is off the charts.”
“There’s no tension,” I said, burying my face in a pillow.
“Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt,” she teased, flopping down beside me. “Face it, Kael. Draven Ashford likes you. And you like him.”
“I do not!”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re blushing like a schoolgirl right now?”
I groaned again, this time louder. “He’s just messing with me. That’s what he does. It’s a game to him.”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s more than that.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I didn’t. But as I lay there, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help wondering if she might be right.
The next morning, I walked into class determined to keep my cool. No more blushing, no more overanalyzing, no more letting Draven get under my skin.
But, of course, he was already there, waiting for me with that infuriating smirk.
“Morning, Kael,” he said, his voice low and smooth.
“Morning,” I replied, keeping my tone as neutral as possible.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by my attempt to act normal. “No glare today? No snarky comeback?”
“Not in the mood.”
“Hmm. Must be serious.”
I ignored him and pulled out my notebook, determined to focus on the lecture. But Draven, being Draven, wasn’t about to make that easy.
Throughout the class, he kept leaning in, making little comments that were just loud enough for me to hear. At one point, he slipped me a note that said, You look distracted. Thinking about me?
I crumpled it up and threw it at him, but that only made him grin wider.
After class, I was halfway down the hallway when I heard someone call my name.
“Kael!”
I turned to see Sera striding toward me, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. She looked flawless, as always, but there was something cold in her eyes that sent a chill down my spine.
“Can we talk?” she asked, her tone deceptively sweet.
“Uh, sure,” I said, wary.
She led me to a quiet corner of the hallway and crossed her arms, looking me up and down like she was sizing me up.
“I’m going to be blunt,” she said. “Stay away from Draven.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Draven and I have history. A lot of history. And whatever game you’re playing, it’s not going to end well for you.”
“I’m not playing any games,” I said, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest.
“Good,” she said, her lips curving into a cold smile. “Because you won’t win.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, stunned and furious.
By the time I made it to the library for our project session, I was still fuming. Draven noticed immediately.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning back in his chair as I dropped my bag onto the table.
“Nothing,” I muttered.
“Kael.”
I let out a frustrated breath, dragging my fingers through my hair. “Sera cornered me after class. She told me to stay away from you.”
Draven’s jaw clenched, and his smug demeanor faltered, replaced by something sharper, almost protective. “What did you say?”
“I told her I’m not playing any games.”
He nodded, his eyes dark. “Good.”
We worked in silence for a while after that, but the unspoken tension hung between us, thick and undeniable. Every time our hands brushed or our eyes met, it felt like the air around us got a little heavier.
At one point, Draven reached for a pen, and when his fingers accidentally brushed against mine, it sent a shiver racing up my arm. I felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my arm, and I knew he felt it too because his eyes locked onto mine, intense and unyielding.
“Kael,” he said quietly, his voice rough.
“What?” I whispered, my heart pounding.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin, every inch of space between us vanishing. “You’re not like her. You’re not like anyone.”
Before I could respond, he leaned back, his expression unreadable once again.
“Let’s finish this,” he said, his voice back to its usual teasing tone. But I knew that whatever had just passed between us wasn’t over. Not even close.
- Writer
