•|•|•|•

Would I have kissed back?

•|•|•|•

MY FINGERS RATTLED softly against the desk in morning class, staring out the lofty window as literature was being taught

In truth, I was as far away from the classroom as a person climbing Mount Everest at this very moment.

No, I was not staring at the scenery below, on the grounds of the Crown that were no doubt beautiful, but instead, I had got lost in memories of my own.

Of what had happened barely an hour ago.

I was between strange feelings.

Part of me realized that I should be furious and to some extent I guess I was furious that Harvest used his dilect on me, even when he promised he wouldn't do it again, without punishment.

It was a clear violation of my mind, waltzing right into there, and somehow making sense of the feelings that I had buried deep inside me for fear of what I assumed they were.

I didn't want to realize it in the open, but now he had seen it.

He knew that I had been Jealous of Claire.

I didn't think he had noticed that I was upset earlier, and whilst I guessed he could spot my tears, his confirmation only made my heartburn.

And that was what was the most terrifying part of the strange feelings I was experiencing.

Because my heart didn't burn in anger but in warmth, lining the deep blush that I could feel against my hot cheeks, acknowledgment burning through my mind.

He wanted to choose me.

[I would choose you a thousand times, just so I could capture these eyes for a lifetime.]

I could feel the corners of my mouth curve in a timid smile.

And he said he wasn't a poet.

My smile widened, and I turned back to face the teacher, watching him blankly still entrapped in a mind of my own.

Those blue eyes of his were curses.

Just one look in them and I was glued to the spot. It honestly felt like he was looking into my soul more than he did my mind, and that was what seemed to keep me in place.

I thought of the way our fingers brushed, his hot heavy breath. I could still feel soft tingles from wherever his fingers brushed, pushing my chin upwards to lock in those Pacific prisons.

My mind replayed how his lips pressed against my forehead as if I was something dear to him- I paused at that thought, eyebrows drawing together when I thought of something he had asked me the previous time we were alone together.

My heart thudded inside me when the words resurfaced in my mind, dutifully accompanied by the vision of his defeated look, eyes searching in mine for what I could have only described as reason.

[If I had kissed you then, tell me, would you have kissed me back? Or are you too scared of me to see anything else?]

My heart thumped inside me.

Anything else? Like what?

The what-if Question. My brain kindly answered on my behalf and I could feel everything inside me freeze.

Back then, I had only answered on behalf of the question.

I was not scared of him. He had changed back into his bipolar self too quickly, and then as history records, I was stupid enough to pump myself with fake confidence and Kiss him.

Yes, it may have been one on the forehead courtesy of what he did to me.

A Netflix kiss would be much too intimidating for me.

It took all my little courage to do what I did.

The first time I had ever initiated a kiss on my own for that of a boy.

But the question remained.

Would I have kissed back had he kissed me the way I thought he would?

I was embarrassed to even think that for a second I had pictured it at that moment, but now, as I think about it, the closeness of him, his scent, his warmth, and dare I say it, though I promised myself to never make mention of it again, his beauty.

His undeniable beauty.

I tried so hard not to pay attention to how attractive Harvest was, those ash locks paired with mirrored ocean eyes, perfect structure, he was built like a god.

A fact not far away from the truth.

A dark shiver crossed my spine, making me realize that I was beginning to sound a lot like lovesick Claire.

Love?

My throat ran dry at this, immediately scratching at my healing wrist for a second, as my heart beat soundly within me.

The question remained one that I had not answered yet.

Would I have kissed back?

I shut my eyes, thinking of Him.

Allowing myself to freely think of him. I needed to understand, to see.

To see all the what-if moments that he had left scattered like ash in my memories.

All his bipolar moments, all his wants. Stealing my notebook just to read my poems about him.

I was a hundred percent sure that he hadn't done that to anyone else, shown so much interest, even showed half of his goofy side.

I doubt Lira would even believe me if I told her.

I had penned this all down to being the girl who discovered his secret.

Maybe that's why he was comfortable with showing me more because I was someone that he had under wraps, someone he could talk to.

But even so, it was only theory, and right now the question was yet to be answered.

That what-if question.

Yes.

The straight answer I could feel buzzing at the core of my heart, sizzling the light goosebumps across my skin.

I would have kissed back.

I could owe it to the fact that I was a hormonal teenage girl who was around the ripe age to have a first kiss. Yes, I could blame it all on the fact that I wanted the experience, but in truth, in honesty to myself, I would have kissed back just to feel him.

I felt that there was something more to him that he wasn't showing. something I knew existed because for some reason he punished himself to reveal it to me.

Maybe it was to level the playing field, or...maybe, just maybe.. it was the

What if.

It was time to ask myself a follow-up.

And if it was?

That somehow, no matter how crazy the reality seemed, that Harvest somehow liked me.

I could feel my cheeks heat up once more at the statement and I quickly looked around afraid someone was watching what would look like weird behavior.

The coast was clear.

I pursed my lips, thinking back.

What if Mom was right? What if he was just really bad at coming out with it?

I mean it wasn't hard for me to imagine Harvest as the Cliche bully, who bullies the girl because he can't come to terms with what he feels.

Now that I think of it, he fits the role quite well.

I pushed my bushy hair behind my ear,

If somehow in this crazy stroke of reality, the Harvest Adams had a thing for me, I-

The sound of the lunch bell brought me out of my thoughts, eyes glazing around the classroom as the teacher dismissed us.

•|•|•

Keep it to yourself girl 🤭

I'll be reverting back to 2 chapters per week rule for THW. If you would like to read ahead you can do so on Patreon.

Chapter 142 - 146 : FEILD PRACTICE INTERCOLOR GAMES
Is already available on Patreon.

New Updates of #STTAK coming soon

P.S you can join my patreon for free via the link in bio to keep up with updates if you would like and join the community conversations I will soon be opening up.

However, You do have to become a patron to access chapters.

See ya'll next week... Or in the comment section below 😉.

•|•|•