A/N: sex sex sex!;D not explicit at all but thought I'd give a warning anyways, haha

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CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

The class were flying back to London first thing the following morning and so, eventually their teachers came out to usher everyone back into bed. Hannah didn't want Rayne to feel as though she was burdening herself on him by hanging around in his room until Ashlyn fell asleep again but he only rolled his eyes and pulled her along.

Perhaps it should have made her feel a little wary to be entirely alone in a small bedroom in the middle of the night with a boy – especially after all that had occurred with Gabriel – but Hannah found that she was content. Her body was relaxed as she sat crossed-legged on the edge of the hotel bed, fingers absent-mindedly tugging against the duvet beneath her, damp hair falling over her shoulders in a mess.

She had gotten so used to their little routine that she had purposefully been ignoring her phone, other than a quick message per day to Cameron and her aunt Sara. She'd even gone as far as to log out of her Facebook app altogether to avoid all the pesky notifications. Allowing herself to be so disconnected from everyone else made her feel a freedom she never before had tasted, and it was amazing.

Hannah had never before thought she was much of a complainer but there was something about Rayne that made her insecurities fall out of her mouth without a moment's thought. But he was so understanding, so receptive that somehow, it didn't feel like it was a bad thing. Ashlyn's snide comments were still ringing around her head and so, naturally, she blurted some of them out.

Rayne was seated opposite her, his hair beginning to frizz a little from the chlorine of the pool they had just gotten out of and his t-shirt inside-out, label sticking out on his right side but he hadn't seemed to notice.

"I just don't get how you can believe her stupid comments and think people actually like her more than you," he said, brows scrunched tight in horror. "I mean, honestly, she's a bitch and a half to everyone unless she had get something out of them. Surely you'd know that better than me, as well."

Hannah pressed her lips together, tugging the smile back in as she tried to explain her thought process. "Everyone knows she's so horrible but that doesn't mean they don't like her. Other than when she opens her mouth, she's goddamn perfect and ugh, it's just so annoying but at the same time, it makes me feel, I dunno, I can't explain it. It just... it makes me a little sad that the world is designed in such a way that beauty and money is still what's most important in life."

He didn't say a word, jade eyes running over her face, memorising every curve and crook. She shook her hands, motioning something that even she didn't understand in an attempt to explain herself.

"Just, y'know, well," she spluttered out, pathetically. "Ugh, just Ashlyn and her stupid pretty face and fucking hair and goddamnit, don't even get me started on those eyes of hers – isn't that a cliché and a half? Everyone loves the blonde-haired, blue-eyed bitch and no matter what, after how much I've pissed her off this year, she'll make sure I'm always known as just the mutt that crawled after her for half my life because I was too scared to do anything for myself." She let out a hollow laugh, one that scratched the inside of her throat as her words drifted off into the silence stretching between them. "Maybe if I'd had blue eyes I woulda got somewhere by now, innit?"

Rayne was appalled.

"How can you say that?" he finally burst out, having kept quiet at every word of hatred she had pulled out that night. His forest eyes shone bright beneath the dim light, wild with an emotion she couldn't quite decipher. "Yes, her eyes are blue and yes people love blue eyes but big fuckin' deal. Yes, people write songs about blue eyes comparing them to oceans and all that rubbish. But yours are amber; they're like the gold that people slave their whole lives to desperately pull out of the ground. Just because hers are like waves doesn't mean yours can't be mountains or something, y'know what I mean? Ashlyn Janek might be a typical Barbie doll but you're anything but ordinary and that's a million times better."

Hannah just stared at him, mouth slightly dropped open as his words crashed against the four walls surrounding them, swirling around in her mind. His cheeks tinted pink and his hand rubbed the back of his neck as he realised what he'd just said, eyes growing wide. "Sorry," he mumbled looking only at the stark white sheets beneath him, hands wringing together. "I didn't mean to... uhm, you have nice eyes. That's all."

It had been a long time since Hannah had dropped every barrier of defence she continuously held up but as he blushed, she forgot she'd ever done such a thing. It all fell down, crumbling like dust falling off the mountains he'd just described.

Her gaze ran over his limbs, at the way he sat and the way his body curved towards hers despite the space between them. She looked at his hands shaking slightly, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed, his lips pressed together as though he regretted saying as much as he did. She analysed the way his jaw was cut, the point of his nose, the raise of his cheekbones and the flick of his hair. That hair! It was admittedly always a mess upon his head but the colour did something to her insides. It was a deep brown, threads of the natural reddish gold interwoven into it so carefully that it shone like honey in the sun. And then finally, Hannah met his eyes.

She saw the swirls of green twisting around each other, saw the apprehension in them. But beneath all that, she could see more. Evidently she wasn't the only one who has let her walls fall in that moment because suddenly the affection shining back at her was immense. It was like a tsunami, so strong and sudden that it almost pushed her back. Instead she moved a little closer to him, leaning forward and interlinking her fingers with his.

His skin was slightly cold, palms soft and they both looked down at the same moment, watching her pale brown against his cool white. Fire and frost - wasn't that from the Wuthering Heights quote they had analysed the first lesson they were paired together for their long-forgotten essay?

His eyes were trained on their hands, clearly surprised that she was holding it. Despite their ever-growing friendship, this was still Hannah Adem and there was still a part of him that was too in awe with her to fathom the fact that they were indeed friends by this point.

But the way she looked at him, heat lighting up her face, made him want to do many things to her – none of which were particularly friendly. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he blushed brightly, willing his body not to react. It was the blush that did it, Hannah thought afterwards. Seeing his cheeks and the tips of his ears flame red made it all too obvious what he was thinking. And to her surprise, she could feel her own cheeks growing warm, as well as the rest of her body.

Without a moment to think about her actions, she leaned forward. With the way her eyes has darkened and her lips were slightly open, Rayne knew her intentions and he leaned forward too, until there wasn't a centimetre between their faces. Neither of them knew who moved first but before either of them could think about it, their lips were pressed together.

One of his hands was caught in her hair, the other tracing her pyjama top resting on her lower back. His tongue pushed against hers as they shuffled closer, until there wasn't a centimetre between their bodies. She could smell the chlorine against his skin, taste the mint of his toothpaste against her own. Hannah ran her fingers over his back, feeling every muscle and bone through his thin t-shirt, her touch feather light.

Hannah had never really been one to believe in fairy-tales but that one second where their lips touched was reminiscent of every love story in the world. As soon as the L word found its way pushing through her mind, she pulled back slightly, Rayne's eyes widening as though he wasn't quite sure what to do next. There were a million questions in those emerald orbs but she only smiled slightly, lips tingling and perfectly happy to be in such a proximity with him.

Rayne slowly smiled back, lip curling up and it sending a jolt through her heart.

Hannah cursed every bit of fear inside her and leaned her head forward, pressing her mouth back to his. She raised her shoulders, allowing his hand to slip past her pyjama top and caress her skin, silk beneath his fingers. His touch heated her, as though flames erupted from his fingers but instead of burning her, he only warmed her to her bones.

Rayne pulled away slightly when he reached her bra strap, eyebrows furrowed as he took her in, darkened gaze running over her face to read every emotion painted across her expression.

"Do it," she mumbled, smiling against his mouth, lashes flickering against his skin.

"Are you sure?" He asked quietly, clearly remembering all they had talked about the previous few nights. The late conversations had definitely brought them closer but whilst he knew Hannah liked him as a person, he wasn't quite sure if he was reading the signs correctly. Surely she was way too good for him.

But she only nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck with glowing cheeks. "Yeah," she whispered, pausing for long enough to look up at him, eyes shining bright. "I trust you."

That almost knocked him back with the force. Rayne knew exactly what that meant, knew how little trust she had in everyone and with a genuine smile in return, he continued. His fingers fumbled against her bra strap and she shimmied out of her clothes, laughing slightly at the way his eyes widened when she was completely naked. Her laughter filled him with light, a throaty sound rising in the soft silence of the room, one that he swore he could listen to forever.

Rayne rolled his eyes at her, battling the smile on his face as he too pulled off his clothes – the t-shift finally turning the right-way-around – with Hannah's help. His eyes ran over her body, then his fingers and then his mouth. Hannah felt as though she could see stars, her body filling up with so much foreign emotion that it took a moment for it to place: pure unadulterated happiness.

She sniggered when he scrambled around the blankets to the small beside cabinet, pulling the drawers open until he found the small foil packet with a bright purple logo on the silver. "Hotel favours, eh?"

He only grinned in reply, both of them pleased that their friendship was still shining through the lust. Her laughter twisted into soft moans as he climbed back beside her, continuing.

And so, that night, Hannah learned what it meant to really be loved by someone who actually cared about her and Rayne found he was one hundred and ten percent right when he had said she was like gold. Entirely irreplaceable.

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One thousand one hundred and fifty seven miles away, a woman with blonde curls and honey eyes twisted and turned in her bedsheets, trying to sleep. Her husband lay beside her, his eyes long closed as his chest rose with every breath, moonlight glinting down at them as the clocked ticked past.

Lydia Davis had been in love with her husband since she had first met him, years ago. She had loved him before he knew her name, she had loved him whilst he loved another and she had loved him every second after.

But never before had she kept a secret from him.

The young girl with the warm brown skin, trembling hands and wide cinnamon eyes was haunting her thoughts. Her face was so familiar, a copy of one she hadn't seen in person for eighteen years.But the fear and the sadness in the little girls face was something that was seemingly unnatural on that particular face.

Lydia was a mother; she loved her children with every fibre she was made out of. And the girl's expression tugged at something inside her, something that made her ache. That fear was something she would never want her own daughter to feel, when she'd put her hand out, as though she expected pain to come from it. The sadness filling faintly familiar eyes was something that she would never want her son to feel, searching for something the girl was clearly missing – the man beside her.

It was clear as day that the girl was Jasmine's daughter. Jasmine Adem may have grown into a cold and uncaring woman – or at least, that was the impression she gave off on TV and in interviews – but Lydia remembered her. Lydia remembered when she had truly loved Chris and knew that without a doubt, there was no other explanation than the fact she had been face-to-face with her husband's daughter a few days ago. 

The guilt swarmed around her, digging its way into her skin as she silently sent a prayer up on behalf of the young girl who ran away from her doorway with tears in her eyes as she shook her husband awake.

"Chris? Chris, I need to tell you something."

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Hannah didn't know what made her wake but something just didn't feel right.

She sat up groggily, sheets swaying from her shoulders down to her hips as goosebumps rose over her bare skin. Her lids flickered as she looked around the room, darkness fogging over her sight. It was a little after four in the morning and she could hear the faint cries of birds outside, as they sang a song with dawn. Exhaustion still rising in her, Hannah fell back on her pillow, twisting her head to look at the boy next to her.

Rayne was fast asleep, a stray tendril of his hair fallen over his face and rising with every soft breath. He was still naked, the sheets haphazardly thrown over his lower half and his head turned towards her. She could feel the heat from his body keeping her skin warm, his legs intertwined with her own and one of his arms thrown over her bare breasts. His tattoo was the sharpest black against his pale skin, the soft glow of the almost-rising sun glinting down on it.

Although her eyes were still half closed, Hannah couldn't help noticing how peaceful he looked, a smile making its way to her face with the observation. He looked so calm, so content, that she completely forgot something had awoken her.

She hadn't slept properly; her body slightly sore and her eyes tired but it had been worth it.

The night had been perfect.

"Guess Becky owes Mohammad ten quid now," she mumbled to herself, the words getting lost against her lips as her eyes ached to be closed again. With a smile still painted over her face, her lashes fluttered shut and she fell into a dreamless slumber – unaware of the icy eyes that remained trained on her and the scarlet lips that turned up in a smirk in the dark shadows of the room.

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A/N: I was so excited to write this chapter ahh! Let me know what you think pls <33