C10 Craving

DOMINIC’S POV

I stood there, watching her as she reached up on her toes, trying to grab a book from the shelf. It was kind of cute, seeing her struggle like that, she looked like a little kid struggling to reach a cookie jar.

A smirk began to form on my face as I took in her messy bun of blond hair. My eyes traveled to her legs-she had such beautiful legs, and those black leggings hugged her perfectly. It hit me- she was the reason I'd been so distracted lately. She was what I wanted.

She caught sight of me and jerked violently, snapping me out of my wandering thoughts.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked in a voice full of surprise.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I just stood frozen, entranced by her features

"Hello?" She waved her hand in front of me, as if trying to break a spell. "Why'd you have to sneak up on me like that?" Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowed in irritation. Wordlessly, I took another step closer and snatched the book from where she was reaching before shoving it out to her. "Here."

She hesitated for a moment before snatching it from my hand. "You’re welcome," I added with a grin, as she turned in her hill and walked away.

I trailed after her as she walked gracefully.

“What do you think you're doing?" she asked, loking back over her shoulder, more annoyed by the minute.

"Following you," I replied with a casual tone.

Her eyes blazed with hostility. "No, you're not. Leave me alone." I couldn't help it- I laughed. Despite the truculent look in her gaze.

"There's nothing funny, "she snapped. Her irritation visibly mounted. She turned her back toward me, heading for her seat, leaving me to follow after her.

When we reached her table, she sat down, there were books scattered all over. I pulled a chair out beside her and casually set down in it, peering at the mess of books set around her.

"What you reading?" I asked, still snickering.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. Just two weeks ago, I would’ve done anything to avoid her. Now, she’s all I can think about.

She slammed the book shut, not before I caught the title. "Hey, I didn't catch that," I said, my hand laid gently on her arm, stopping her from shutting it full-on.

"Whispers in the Fog," I read out loud, drawing out the words with deliberation as she shot me a glare.

"I didn't know you liked mystery and thrillers," I said, releasing her arm and edging closer to open the book once more.

She turned back to me. "Well, I do." She turned back to her reading.

"That's brave," I teased, "especially this late in the night. You're quite the spooky girl."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she shot me another look. "And what's wrong with that?"

“Nothing’s wrong with that,” I replied quickly, not wanting her to get upset with me. “I like thrillers too, but I prefer the movies though.”

“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and annoyance at the same time

"Honestly?" I said, easing back into my seat. "I came here to read, but for some reason, I can't seem to focus."

"Too bad," she replied after some seconds of silence. "A couple of days ago, you were debating with me about a poem line for our group assignment,now you can't read at all?" Her tone teasingly invited a hint of mockery.

"Yeah, unfortunately," I shrugged. "Maybe you could teach me how to read." I threw it out there, playing along.

She lifted an eyebrow with a smirk in her lips. "I don't remember signing up to be a college professor."

"Nah, I'm teasing." I chuckled, leaning back in my chair.

“Books are not my thing, but I guess it’s not so bad having someone around who actually reads." I said

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re trying to do but I’m not in the mood for whatever it is.” She replied, her irritation growing.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her response. “Relax, I’m just trying to talk.”

“Talk? Since when do you talk? You barely acknowledge me unless it’s time to argue. You could talk to the girl you gave back shots at the other day.” She replied flatly.

“Well that was ages ago, and I don’t feel like talking to that girl, I wanna talk to you.” I paused briefly, “And maybe I’m tryna change that. You’ve been buried in that novel all night. Thought you might want to talk instead."

“”Fine," she finally replied after a moment of silence, surrendering to me.

For once, we were on common ground-which I never thought would be possible. A small smile crept onto my face as she agreed, and pride swelled in me.

"So, what is it about thrillers and mysteries that appeals to you?" I asked, curiosity dripping from my voice.

"It just… keeps my mind off things," she said, after a little reluctance. Oddly enough, it felt kind of funny having to work to get her talking, if my enemy indeed was her, which at that point I wasn't all that sure. Judging from the look on her face, however, she wasn't in the mood for arguing or jousting back and forth.

"Off what things?" I asked, easing myself a little closer so I could catch every nuance.

“Life," she responded, and I raised an eyebrow, perplexed.

She rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't understand," she said offhandedly.

"Try me," I shrugged.

"I'm not telling you my secret," she responded, her irritation growing.

"Okay." I shut her off before she could continue, raising my hands in mock surrender.

"What's the book about?" I asked, now curious.

She gazed up at my face for a moment, then let her breath out in a sigh. To be honest, it was her baby-blue eyes that made me want to lose all control, both captivating and calming.

"It's about people who hide behind masks, secrets, lies. The deeper it gets, the more complicated it gets:"

I nodded, intrigued. "Sounds like a lot of people I know."

A smirk played on her lips. "Yeah, including you.

"Fair enough. But I'm not the only one hiding things, am I?" I shot back.

“Maybe not. But at least I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not,” she replied, her expression softening slightly.

"Touché. So, this mystery novel… any chance you'll share the ending with me, or do I have to read it myself?" I leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest, and grinned.

A small laugh escaped her, and I realized I had never seen her laugh before. She was beautiful, and I felt privileged that I had been able to see that part of her.

"You'd never make it through," she said, her voice firm.

"You don't think I can read? I'm quite the bookworm, when I want to be," I replied.

"Sure you are," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Serious. I'd even let you quiz me afterwards," I added, leaning forward, entranced with her loveliness.

She sat back in her chair. "You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously crazily in love with the image of you quizzing me," I returned, a small smile teasing my lips.

“What ever,” she said with a small smile playing on her lips.

“You know, it's nice to see you smile. I didn't think you had it in you," I said lightly.

She frowned at me, feigning annoyance. "I smile. You just make it hard to notice."

I tilted in a little closer, curious. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're always so… arrogant," she shot back.

"Always?" I raised an eyebrow, challenging her.

Just then, her alarm went off, slicing through our banter. I guessed she had a time limit or something.

"Guess that's my cue to leave," she said breathlessly as she stood up.

"Wait," I called, rising to my feet. "Let's… do this again."

She hesitated and then turned around to me with apparent surprise in her expression: "I'll think about it."

As she walked away, I couldn't help but admire her—the way her legs moved, the curve of her hips, everything about her body was perfect.

A strange craving began to stir inside me, one I’d never felt for anyone else before. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. In that moment, I realized I wanted her. I wanted Abigail.