C6 Date, or Is It?

“Because…” I looked anywhere but his face. I bit my bottom lip—a habit whenever anxiety tightened its grip.

“Stop that.”

“Hmm?” I glanced up and realized he was watching my lips. I raised an eyebrow. He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched with a small, audible sound.

“Hmm…” He crossed his arms and lifted one eyebrow. “I’m asking you.”

His voice pressed against me like weight. I swallowed and felt heat rush to my cheeks. I was about to speak when I noticed people glancing our way. Panic rose hot and sudden. Before he could say anything else, I turned and ran. I heard him call my name, but I didn’t look back.

Better this way. I shouldn’t engage with Nathan Jones Davis. I couldn’t read him. What if I was just prey for those dark, magnetic eyes that made me weak at the knees?

I was about to round the hall corner when I nearly collided with someone. I stopped just in time. My eyes widened in shock—Nathan. How had he followed me?

“I’m serious, Natasha. Why don’t you want to talk to me?”

His voice was low and urgent, the syllables deep as gravel. Images from the strange dream I’d had of him flickered in my mind. My muscles trembled; I hugged myself and stayed silent. We stood there in that cramped hallway, two people holding their breath.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… scared.” At last I forced the words out. He listened without interrupting. I inhaled and tried to explain.

“You shouldn’t be talking to someone like me, Nathan. Not because of my reputation—because I’m terrible at conversation. I don’t have friends. People find me boring. You might think I’m odd, annoying, or even stupid. I can take that. So, if you’ll excuse me…” I turned, ready to walk away.

Instead he wrapped his arms around my waist. I froze; the world narrowed to the warmth of his body against mine. Heat climbed my neck. I inhaled and almost choked on the closeness, but I looked up and was drawn into his gaze.

“I actually find you cute.” His smile was low and dangerous in the best way.

“Look, I don’t mean harm. I want to talk. Get to know you. You seem lonely, and you deserve someone beside you.”

His skin brushed my shoulder. I could feel his breath against my skin; my heart did a reckless flip. My head buzzed with a dozen warning signs, but some small, stubborn part of me softened.

“Here’s a deal: let me take you on a friendly date today. If you enjoy it, give me a chance to be your friend. If not, we’ll pretend this never happened. How’s that?” His proposition hung between us, simple and oddly earnest.

I stared at him. Trust was not something I handed out casually—especially to someone I had just met. Even a harmless moment could crack like thin glass. Still, his earnestness tugged at some fragile curiosity inside me.

Suddenly he dropped to one knee. I gasped and scanned the corridor for witnesses. This was ridiculous, scandalous even. Was he insane?!

“N—Nathan—” My voice broke. I reached to help him up, but he refused the hand. He held my gaze, intense and steady as if he were trying to pin me in place.

“Please. I’m not who you think I am.” He took my hand and held it gently. My cheeks flamed. I tried to pull away, but his grip was firm and unapologetic. His pleading eyes made me uneasy and oddly exposed. Sweat pricked at my skin.

Then he stroked my hand, slow and oddly calming. Protection, of all things, hummed through that small gesture. My shoulders loosened. We stood like that for a long moment, eyes locked, the hallway noise fading.

“Okay.” I nodded before I could overthink it.

His smile widened, softening his whole face. He rose and clasped his hands like a boy thrilled at being granted permission.

“Great. I’ll wait after class, then?” He raised an eyebrow, searching my face for anything like enthusiasm.

“Uh—yes. Sure.” My answer came out thin, but he seemed satisfied. He hugged me unexpectedly—brief, not intimate—and released me.

“Thank you! I’ll meet up with you. I swear this isn’t a prank!” He waved and jogged away, the image of him retreating burning into my head.

When he turned the corner, reality crashed back in. Did I really agree? Panic and regret flared hot. I wanted to beat myself for being foolish. But I couldn’t leave him hanging. It was my choice; I’d live with the consequences.

I lingered, dazed, before going to class. My thoughts skittered around the day’s lessons; I heard only fragments. Mostly I worried about Nathan—about what he might mean to my carefully harmless life.

Class finished. I packed up and stepped outside, scanning for him. Minutes stretched, then slipped into the small, empty hours. Disappointment tightened in my chest. I forced a smile and took a few steps—then a voice called my name.

“There you are!”

My feet stopped. He came jogging toward me, hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes crinkled in a grin that made him look younger and far more open than he’d seemed in the hallway. He stopped, hands on hips, looking me up and down as if confirming I was real.

“Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find you.” He glanced around, memorizing the place like it might be a new landmark where I could be found.

“So… ready?” His attention snapped back to me.

I chewed my tongue, struggling to steady myself. Part of me wanted to invent an excuse and run. Instead, a small, irrational flutter of pride rose—he had searched for me. I nodded.

He reached for my hand and, with startling strength, pulled me along. His strides were long and hurried; I nearly stumbled.

“Great! You won’t regret this day!” he said, breathless.

We stopped in front of a car. He opened the door for me; my hesitation was brief, and then I slid in. He started the engine, and we set off.

I had no idea where we were going, but a cautious excitement buzzed through me. After years of solitude, this was—unexpectedly—my first real hangout. I wanted to ask where we were headed but didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“So, you not nervous?” he asked.

I could have admitted my heart was stuttering like a trapped bird and my stomach was doing odd flips. Instead I shook my head and offered a small smile.

“I’m fine.”

He watched my face for a long moment before returning his gaze to the road. The silence stretched; I worried I might seem dull. Outside, the scenery blurred, then came into focus.

“We’re here.”