Chapter 87 87- Do Not Forget The Way He Looked At You
LEXI
I sigh.
“I really want to trust you. But when you do stuff like… What you just did… It makes it really hard for me to tell you. Because then I feel… Almost responsible for your actions, I guess.” I explain. The words feel clumsy, but they’re the closest I can get to the truth. It’s not that I think I control him. It’s that when I see what he’s capable of, I can’t help but feel like handing him information is handing him ammunition. Blake frowns.
“You aren’t responsible for my actions. If you say that those… People… Harassing you isn’t MY fault but is because of your own decisions, then you have to accept that my actions also aren’t your fault. They are the result of my own choices.” He says it firmly, logically, like he’s solving an equation. There’s no heat in it. Just certainty.
“Yeah but… Still…” I trail off uncomfortably. Logic doesn’t erase the image of snapping bone. It doesn’t erase the fact that I told him, and someone got hurt.
Blake watches me for a moment, then exhales.
“Maybe this isn’t the right time to be asking you to trust me.” He says thoughtfully.
“Ya think?” I answer, a little sarcastically. The edge in my voice surprises even me. Okay, maybe that was mean. But I am super freaked out and my nerves
are raw. Blake doesn’t bristle. He gives me a small, rueful smile instead. Like he knows he’s earned that. We sit quietly for a moment, neither of us sure
where to go from here. The silence stretches, heavy but not hostile. I jerk back in surprise when the drawer of my bedside table flies open with a sound like
scraping wood. The sudden movement makes my heart leap into my throat. Blake’s head turns immediately.
“A letter. With my name.” He remarks, reaching into the drawer which is currently empty except for the letter. I DID have things in there. Hair ties, lip balm. Stuff like that. So I guess the Academy hid my stuff. Maintaining my privacy, I suppose. I didn’t have anything to particularly hide, but I appreciate the effort anyway. Blake opens the letter and reads it silently, his eyes moving quickly over the page. His expression doesn’t change much, but I notice the faintest tightening at the corner of his jaw when he reaches the middle of it. Not anger. Not surprise. Just acknowledgement.
“What does it say?” I ask curiously, already half certain I know. He shrugs casually, folds it once, then hands it to me without comment. The paper is thick and formal, the Academy seal pressed into the top corner in dark blue wax. The font is precise and impersonal.
Mr Blake Nyvas,
You are hereby suspended from classes and all related academic and social activities for a period of two (2) weeks, effective immediately upon receipt of this notice.
This suspension has been issued following the submission of forty–seven (47) separate student reports detailing acts of aggression and physical violence toward
another student, without immediate provocation or necessity of self–defence.
1
During the period of suspension, you are prohibited from attending all scheduled classes, practical sessions, extracurricular activities, study groups, and library facilities. All coursework will be distributed to you via the SCRI application and must be submitted digitally within standard deadlines unless otherwise specified by faculty. You may be required to attend supplementary instructional sessions upon reinstatement to ensure academic compliance.
You are permitted access to the cafeteria at designated alternative times: 7:30am, 1:00pm, and 6:30pm. Each mealtime allotment will not exceed thirty (30) minutes. Outside of these allocated periods, you are expected to remain within your assigned dormitory quarters.
Failure to comply with these restrictions will result in further disciplinary action, up to and including expulston
Should you wish to appeal this decision, a written appeal must be submitted to the Principal’s office within twenty four (24) hours of receipt of this notice.
Signed,
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2:37 pm pppp.
Chapter 87 87- Do Not Forget The Way He Looked At You
Sheree Istvan
Principal
Then, at the very end of the note, scribbled on in pen, is a handwritten addition.
Blake. I told you that I couldn’t cover for you again, you went too far. Consider yourself lucky to not be expelled. Don’t bother appealing. It’s a waste of your effort.
Just do your time and TRY to keep your head down. – S. Istvan.
“Oh… Well… That makes sense.” I mumble. Blake shrugs again. He doesn’t look angry. He doesn’t look embarrassed. If anything, he looks mildly
inconvenienced, like this was an expected outcome. Forty–seven reports. That number sits heavily in my chest. Almost fifty people cared enough, or were
afraid enough, to file something. And the phrasing… Without immediate provocation. That’s such a clinical way to describe what happened. Like they’re
writing about weather patterns.
“You’re not… Upset?” I ask cautiously.
“Why would I be?” He replies calmly.
“You’re suspended.” I point out.
“Yes. He answers.
“For two weeks.” 1 remind him.
“Yes.” He agrees.
“And you’re basically under house arrest.” I add.
“Yes.” He nods along. He says it like we’re reviewing a schedule change. I stare at him. I once cried over detention when I was twelve. Called my parents.
Apologised to the teacher. Couldn’t sleep that night. Blake just broke someone’s wrists in front of nearly fifty witnesses and got suspended for it, and he
looks like he’s calculating meal times. Then something else sinks in. Separate cafeteria times. I won’t have anyone to sit with. Breakfast I could maybe
manage by adjusting my schedule. But lunch. Dinner. The cafeteria already feels hostile enough. Well… I did say I wanted space. I guess I’m getting it.
“You… Should probably go to your room.” I tell him softly. He looks like he doesn’t want to go. Just slightly. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he reaches into
his pocket and places a small velvet box on the bed between us.
“For your first flight.” He says quietly. There’s something different in his tone now. Not regret. Not apology. Just… Something that feels almost displaced. Like this wasn’t how he pictured giving it to me. Then he stands and walks out. The door clicks shut behind him. And the room feels much quieter than it did before.
I sit for a moment, just looking at the box. It feels heavier than it should. Not physically, it’s small, but symbolically Like it contains more than just jewellery. Part of me wants to chase after him, open the door, call his name, and make him come back so he can give it to me properly. So I can see his face when I open it. So we can pretend tonight didn’t end the way it did. But another part of me doesn’t want him anywhere near me right now. My nerves are still buzzing. My stomach still feels unsettled. I don’t trust myself not to either snap at him or cling to him, and I don’t want to do either Space is healthy. Time apart is not a big deal. At least that’s what I try to convince myself. So, cautiously, like the box might explode or bite me, I reach out and pick it up The velvet is soft beneath my fingers, the edges perfectly stitched. Of course it’s well made Blake doesn’t do cheap. I don’t know what’s inside yet, but I am absolutely certain I don’t want to know what it costs. I flip open the lid. Oh. Inside are two medium sized hoop earrings Gold Thick enough to he noticeable but not gaudy. The surface is lined with glittering stones, diamonds, I assume Real ones. Of course they are They catch the light immediately. scattering it in tiny sharp flashes across the room. They’re beautiful. And I can’t deny that I want them Blake is getting better and better at picking out things that are ‘my style. These aren’t overly dramatic. They’re elegant. Subtle, for him. They would go perfectly with the pink diamond necklace and bracelet he already gave me. He must have thought about that. He always thinks about those details. And saying it was a gift for our first ever flight together… How am I supposed to turn down a gift like that? It wasn’t a random ‘sorry‘ gift. It wasn’t bribery. It was something he had clearly planned before
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2:37 pm
Chapter 87 87- Do Not Forget The Way He Looked At You
everything fell apart tonight. Something he probably picked out while he was still excited and happy. I can just picture him sorting through his things, trying to find me the perfect gift. That makes it worse. For a moment I just sit there, holding the box open, the diamonds winking up at me like they’re mocking my confusion. If I wear them tomorrow, does that mean I’ve already forgiven him? If I don’t, am I making some kind of statement? I don’t have the energy to untangle that right now. So I carefully close the lid and place the box on my desk next to the pink diamond necklace and bracelet. I line it up neatly with them, like that somehow makes the decision less emotional and more practical. They sit there together, a collection. A pattern. Ready for me to put on tomorrow. Then, totally exhausted and burned out from too much emotion in much too short a time, I kick off my shoes without even bothering to place them properly by the door. I don’t change. I don’t brush my hair. I don’t overthink. I collapse into bed. And before my brain can replay the sound of cracking bone again, I fall asleep.
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Lisa McNew
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the consequences of his actions are gonna be that the only protection she will have for the next two weeks will be from the academy…and the promise of a threat they if he… More
7 days ago
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
