Chapter 5: Close Quarters
1043 Words
Chapter 5: Close Quarters
Kael Veyra’s POV
By the time Friday rolled around, I was officially at my limit. Draven Ashford had spent the entire week turning my life into a never-ending prank reel, and I was one bad day away from snapping. Glitter, carrots, sarcastic notes—it never ended.
The worst part? Everyone thought it was hilarious. Every time I walked into class, there were knowing smirks and stifled giggles. I could feel the heat rise in my cheeks just thinking about it.
“Just ignore him,” Livia said, lounging on my bed as I paced the dorm room.
“I am ignoring him!” I snapped.
Livia raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it kind of looks like you’re spiraling.”
“I’m not spiraling. I’m strategizing.”
“Uh-huh.”
I threw up my hands. “What am I supposed to do, Liv? He’s driving me insane!”
“Maybe that’s the point.”
I stopped pacing and frowned at her. “What do you mean?”
“Draven’s a classic avoidant. He’s not going to just admit he likes you, so instead, he’s pulling your metaphorical pigtails like a grade-schooler.”
“Likes me?” I snorted. “Please. Draven Ashford doesn’t like anyone. Least of all me.”
Livia gave me a long, knowing look. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Later that afternoon, I headed to the library, hoping to get some actual work done without Draven hovering over me. We’d agreed to meet there to finalize our project outline, but I needed a head start—and maybe some peace and quiet.
Unfortunately, peace and quiet were in short supply at Blackthorn.
When I arrived, Draven was already there, sprawled in one of the leather armchairs like he owned the place. He looked up as I approached, and his eyes lit up with that infuriating spark of amusement.
“Miss me, Veyra?”
“Not even a little bit.”
I dropped my bag onto the table with a satisfying thud and sat down across from him, ignoring the way my pulse kicked up when his gaze lingered on me for just a second too long.
“We need to focus,” I said, pulling out my notebook. “No distractions, no bullshit. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
To my surprise, Draven actually kept his word. For the next hour, we worked in relative silence, hashing out ideas and dividing up tasks. It was... oddly productive. And, annoyingly, I found myself almost enjoying his company.
Almost.
“Okay,” I said, closing my notebook with a sigh. “I think we’ve got a solid plan. We just need to finalize the presentation format.”
Draven leaned back in his chair, stretching in a way that drew my attention to the lean lines of his body. I looked away quickly, my cheeks heating.
“We could do something interactive,” he suggested. “Get the class involved. Crane loves that shit.”
“Good idea,” I admitted reluctantly.
Draven grinned. “Careful, Veyra. Keep complimenting me like that, and I might think you actually like me.”
“In your dreams, Ashford.”
“Oh, you have no idea.”
I rolled my eyes, but my heart was doing that stupid fluttery thing again, and I hated it. Hated the way he could get under my skin with just a look or a well-timed comment.
Before I could respond, the library lights flickered, and then, with a low hum, everything went dark.
“s**t,” I muttered. “What the hell?”
Draven stood up, peering out the window. “Looks like a power outage. Storm’s coming in.”
We waited for a few minutes, but the lights didn’t come back on. The library was eerily quiet, the usual hum of electricity replaced by the distant rumble of thunder.
“Well,” Draven said, turning back to me, “looks like we’re stuck here.”
“Fantastic,” I muttered.
He raised an eyebrow. “Relax, Veyra. It’s just a little storm. What’s the worst that could happen?”
I shot him a look. “You really want me to answer that?”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that filled the empty space between us. Despite myself, I felt a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.
“Come on,” he said, gesturing toward the back corner of the library. “Let’s wait it out. Might as well be comfortable.”
I hesitated, then followed him, my footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor. We found a quiet nook tucked between the shelves, where two old armchairs faced each other beneath a stained-glass window.
For a few minutes, we just sat there, listening to the rain pounding against the windows and the occasional c***k of thunder. It should have been awkward, but somehow, it wasn’t.
“You’re quiet,” Draven said, breaking the silence. “That’s a first.”
“I’m thinking.”
“About?”
I shrugged, not ready to admit that I’d been thinking about him. About how different he seemed when we weren’t surrounded by classmates or trading insults. About how, when he wasn’t being a smug, insufferable ass, he could actually be... nice.
Draven leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know, you don’t have to hate me.”
“Who says I hate you?”
He smirked. “You do. Every time you look at me.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat. Because the truth was, I didn’t hate him. Not really. And that terrified me.
Before I could respond, the lights flickered back on, cutting through the darkness and breaking whatever weird spell had settled over us.
“Looks like we’re back in business,” Draven said, standing up and offering me his hand.
I stared at it for a moment, then took it, ignoring the jolt of electricity that shot up my arm at the contact.
“See you Monday, Veyra,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “See you Monday.”
And as I watched him walk away, I realized that I was in serious trouble.
- Writer
