[Currant]: Thy frown will kill me

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It's funny how a single person can make you forget and abandon the whole world.

Most of the time, they're not even trying, they are just there, in your head, occupying all the space. So, really it's all your fault.

It's all my fault.

It's my fault for wrapping all my thoughts around Connor, and completely neglecting the things he said about Jack the other day.

The last couple of weeks I've been so occupied with sketching his eyes on every surface I could find, and trying to justify his actions by finding out all about his fight with Isaac, that I've completely forgotten Jack and the cloud of doubt that Connor created around him.

I'm struck by it out of the blue as I notice Jack make his way to me the next morning.

I pull my last sketchbook out of my locker, close the door (convincing myself not to bang my head against it exhaustedly), and start to head toward him.

As I get closer to him, I catch the glare he's throwing my way and do a mental facepalm.

This is most definitely about me not answering his calls yesterday.

I've not told him where I was and with who, nor does he know about the panic attack I had yesterday thanks to Connor.

Only when I got home yesterday after a silent and exhausting drive with Connor, did I notice the six calls from Jack.

To make him stop worrying, I sent him a quick text, letting him know I was okay and going to bed, and that no, I didn't care that it was only 6 PM.

True to my word I've slept the exhaustion off for 14 hours straight.

"Where the hell have you been, Mia?" Jack practically growls, coming to a stop in front of me. He's still glaring down at me, arms crossed against his chest and his form stoic.

His brown hair is brushed back today, his law books tucked under his arm. He looks handsome and pissed... definitely pissed.

"Sorry, I was having a bad day so I wanted to sleep it off," I tell him honestly, without getting into details.

I notice the glare slowly turn into a worried frown, and my heart sinks a bit, because of the guilt.

I'm a liar even though I'm trying my best not to be. Especially not with him.

I'm a freaking liar and I hate it.

"What's wrong? Were you sick?"

"It was just a terrible day, Jack. My project was exhausting and I had no inspiration to draw, so I was kind of irritated with everything and everyone. You know how I usually get without inspiration."

I don't know where the hell those lies are coming from, and it kind of scares me. There are not necessarily wrong, because I've been in deeper depressions when I couldn't find the spark to carry out my projects, but it wasn't the case yesterday. It definitely wasn't.

"You're telling the truth?" He asks, one hand reaching to gently push a strand of loose hair behind my ear.

I don't feel anything as his fingers brush my cheek. Nothing.

"Yeah," I say trying to hold his gaze.

Jack leans down slowly, so the distance between our faces is nonexistent, as he keeps stroking the side of my cheek with one free hand.

"You're always so engrossed in your projects, no wonder you were depressed about it."

I nod silently, my eyes anywhere but on him. And that's how I see him - Connor, walking to our next class from the other side of the hallway, his sketchbook tucked under one arm.

I watch him make his way to the door, wearing a t-shirt, a pair of dark jeans, and black Converse.  His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot as if he's not slept for days, and kept tagging at his hair for some reason.

Or maybe someone has done it for him.

The idea of it is doing crazy things to my heart even though I know he's probably been with tons of girls ever since he was 13.

Somewhere in distance, I can hear Jack talking about his practice on Saturday (or is it Sunday?) and hanging out together later that day, but I don't seem to be able to concentrate on anything else, but my current distraction.

I'm scared to admit that the world could disappear right in front of my eyes, and I'd not even notice it as long as he'd stay.

As Connor nears the auditorium, his image becomes clearer and I start to wonder why the hell he looks more beautiful with that tired and sleepy look on his face. How? It doesn't make sense!

As if noticing my stare and the rapid beating of my heart, Connor raises his gaze suddenly, his eyes holding mine. His gaze is cold and knowing, but for some reason, it feels like the distance between us disappears with a zoom-in effect, until it's just us standing in an empty hallway.

It's sad to realize I'm slowly starting to obsess over him like I used to do before. Although this time, I feel different. This time I know I will end up falling alone, but somehow this fear only gets me more excited to explore.

It takes Conner a second to notice Jack in front of me. And when he does, he doesn't lose a bit before he gives me a wicked smirk as he slips inside the classroom and closes the door after him.

Asshole.

What was that smirk all about?

I shake my head to get back to my senses, and as my attention starts to shift back on Jack, I realize what Connor's smirk was all about.

Jack...

The things he's told, or rather didn't tell me about Jack.

Is he just trying to screw with my head by confusing me? Maybe he wants to make me question Jack just for the hell of it... or maybe he simply wants to see me miserable.

Even though I'm not in love with Jack, I trust him and I won't change my mind just because my old best friend slash current hater throws vague hints at me.

"Hey, Jack," I mumble taking a step back from him and making him drop his hand. "Everything okay with you lately?"

He furrows his brows confused.

"Um... yes, why?"

"Just wanted to check if there's anything you think I should know."

His furrows his brows as he takes a second to think about it.

"I don't think so?" Jack answers lost, making it sound like a question.

His innocent answer makes me laugh out loud. I knew it. Connor was screwing with me all along.

"Is that your answer or are you asking me instead?" I joke.

"It's an answer. Why?"

"It's nothing." I shrug it off.

"Yeah, sure," he says still confused. After a second his confusion turns into curiosity as he leans down a little so our faces are on the same level.

"Do YOU have anything you'd like to tell me?" He asks, making my heartbeat run aggressively under my chest.

Yes, I wish someone else would look at me the way you do.

Yes, I'm constantly thinking about someone else, even when I'm with you.

Yes, I want someone else, even though I know I shouldn't.

"I think I told you the other day, Jack. I'm still trying, but I don't think it's working." I say, trying to prepare him for the talk we both know we're going to have soon. He just doesn't want to accept it, and I don't want to lose him as a friend, so I don't want to push him.

He straightens, his posture defensive and eyes pleading.

"Other than that," he says softly, his eyes traveling down to my lips.

"No," I tell him, "There isn't," but my eyes linger on a wooden door, instead of holding his.

Could this party BE any more fun?

I giggle to myself as I think this in the middle of the dance floor, as Syd and I keep jumping to some song I don't even recognize. I'm more of a fan of heartbreakingly beautiful, soft, and melodic music that tell a whole story - like sad soundtracks, songs like poems, and all that, but right now I don't care what music this is.

The crowd around us is no different as we all just enjoy our Friday night and youth. Well, don't I sound corny as hell?

Anyway, the frat house living room where the party is in its full bloom, is huge. There's a small bar in the corner, where Syd and I spent an hour drinking wine and beer. Syd had been a huge beer fan since forever, occasionally sneaking into her father's office and sipping on it since we were in middle school.

And I just can't resist red wine when I see it, so here we are- 2 full glasses of wine and 4 bottles of beer later, dancing our hearts out without caring about a single thing.

But I guess I do still care about my loose joints and finding Isaac, as I drag my body toward the bar, to sober up a little and spy around again.

I'm tipsy with all the alcohol in my system, but I remember I'm here to find out the truth about.... about... what was it again?

Oh, shoot, right! The fight!

Talking about it, I've been looking for Isaac since the second I showed up, but he's nowhere to be seen. This means I've not gotten the chance to talk to him yet, and it's freaking weird. Isn't this his party? Shouldn't he be the "star" tonight?

And what if my tipsy-ness makes me blurt out something absolutely stupid? Like I know Connor or how much I actually care about the jackass.

No, no, no, no. You can't trip, Mia. Just get some water and you'll be fine.

Oh, right, water! I need water.

"Water, water..." I keep mumbling under my breath to focus until I break into an Adele song. "If you're gonna let me down, let me down gently. Don't pretend that you don't want me, our love ain't water under the bridgeeee..."

I sing under my breath, as I push people out of my way, trying to reach the bar.

I've almost reached my destination when I feel a strong grip on my wrist. Before I can scream or even fathom what's happening, I'm pulled around the corner and suddenly inside a dimly lit room.

"What the hell?!" I shout, my instincts waking up as I hear the door close behind us. I start pushing against a hard body with my fists, but the stone-man, whoever it is, doesn't even flinch!

I need to sing! Hell, no, no, no! I need to THINK! Think, Mia, FAST!

"Good thing you're not fully wasted," I hear a breathless voice and notice the dark frame take a step back from me.

The streetlights outside of the window illuminate his face and I let out a relieved breath when I realize I'm safe.

I'm safe because it's Connor.

THE Connor! My heartbreaker Connor, my hater Connor. My clueless, painfully beautiful Connor.

The Conner I shouldn't trust or feel safe with, but here I am again...

I feel my head spin and realize I'm close to falling on my face until his hand reaches out and steadies me against the wall, the heat of his touch paralyzing me for a second.

His eyes narrow at me under the dim lights, helping me make out  his features almost perfectly.

He's staring down at me like he wants to kill me, but it doesn't stop my stupid hand from reaching out and massaging the space between his brows, trying to remove his glare and make him look at me the way I want him to.

I feel Connor stiffen under my touch for a second or two and when my eyes hold his, he just stares at me confused and intrigued to find out what the hell I am doing.

He clears his throat, before grabbing my hand with a strong grip and removing my touch.

My hand drops to my side and I think I pout disappointed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asks, sounding pissed.

"Why the fuck do you care?" I spit back, even though my head is still spinning because of his deep-deep green eyes, tempting lips, and the little frown between his eyebrow that I couldn't resolve.

"I don't." He says without a second of hesitation.

"Yeah?" I let out a fake laugh. "Funny, because you're the one cornering me into a dark room and trying to distract me from my mission with your panty-dropping green eyes and mouth and body and...voice."

The sudden laughter breaking from his lips is just as addicting as his whole aura and I don't know if it's the alcohol or just my stupid heart, but I want to wrap my arms around him and feel his chest vibrate with laughter against me.

Connor laughing because of me is making me so happy, it's almost scary.

"Shit, you ARE drunk." He mumbles grabbing my wrist and leading me toward the huge bed in the middle of the room. His touch on my skin is setting me on fire, and even though it's dark in the room, my eyes fall on where I know his fingers are wrapped around me now.

"Tomorrow when you're sober, you are going to own up to the shit you've just said." His voice brings me back to reality, and I nod, trying hard to concentrate.

He lets go of my hand way too soon as he gently pushes me down so now I'm sitting on the edge of the bed.

When he takes a step back and stares down at me, I miss the ecstasy caused by his skin touching mine, but I don't say anything.

Although, am I pouting right now?

"What are you doing here?" He asks again, studying me. This time his voice is low and empty and way more serious.

"I'm here to complete a mission."

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Leaning back on my hands, I look up at him lazily, as he keeps staring down at me. His tall and almighty frame and sharp features make him look like he's been sculptured by the best artists.

I can see his eyes travel down my frame - taking me in. His gaze falls on my neck and chest, past my dress that ends a lot above my knees. I notice his eyes darken as he stares at my thighs, though it feels like he hates every second of it.

Oh my God, is he checking me out? Does he hate what he sees because he actually likes it?

I'm so freaking happy I'm wearing a tight white dress with small pastel daises embroidered over the upper part of it and thin straps. I've combined them with a pair of slingback shoes with pointed toes and cute little heels.

I giggle in my head because, obviously, I find everything funny right now.

"What do you want from me, Connor?" I ask, my voice barely heard because of the music playing behind the closed door. "Huh? What do you want?" I press. "Why are you bringing me into dark rooms, acting like I'm your dirty little secret."

He crosses his arms against his chest, standing above me all tall, dark and dangerous. It's obvious he's hitting the gym every chance he gets.

"They can't know we talk."

"Because your bad guy cover will blow off?" I ask with a cynical smile, trying to hide the hurt.

"No." He says and I wait for him to elaborate and give me more, but of course, he doesn't.

I sit up straight in a blink of an eye, completely irritated with him.

Grabbing his arm, I pull him down closer to me, so now he's hovering over me, his face millimeters away from mine. He smells of the fresh forest, cinnamon, and all my wildest dreams, and even in my drunken state, I shiver.

I shiver for him and his eyes tell me he knows it.

Because my head feels so heavy on my shoulders, I rest my forehead against his torso and let out a deep, loud breath.

"You're really...really a jerk, Connor." I sigh, my forehead resting against him and closing my eyes. "But you smell really, really freaking awesome."

"And you're really, really drunk, Jones." He says with that stupid raspy voice of his, but he allows me to lean on him, so that's something.

"It's not a compliment," I mumble, clenching his arm, so he doesn't have a chance to step back.

We stay like that for a couple of short seconds, as I keep breathing him in because even my drunk self knows this is going to be the only time he will let me.

After a short while, I sit up straight, tilt my head back and stare up at his cold and gorgeous face.

"Give me a compliment, Connor," I mumble, holding his gaze.

"You're crazy." He mumbles, almost as if he's talking to himself. But his eyes are drinking me in with a weird kind of emotion, that makes me think he finds me incredible.

The corners of my mouth turn up into a smile, as I grab the side of his face and pull him down to me a little bit more.

There's a distant voice in my head, telling me I shouldn't want to kiss the daylight out of him, because a) I have a boyfriend who I respect and b) this is Connor, as in the guy that keeps treating me like shit.

But I ignore it without much effort, because Jesus, I want to. I've wanted to kiss Connor since I first realized what it meant.

I've always wanted to kiss him... just him.

Will he kiss me back if I make the first move? Will I feel him smile against my lips, or will he push me away way too soon for me to burst into tiny flames?

"Still not a compliment," I mumble my eyes zooming in on his soft lips, which look as tempting as sin.

He bites onto the corner of his lower lip as if thinking what he should do to me. The mere sight of it makes me inch closer to him, the need to kiss him almost painful to resist.

I'm slowly inching toward him, my breathing rapid, when suddenly he pulls back from me like lightning, making my hand drop.

"Leave the party. Now." He tells me with an emotionless voice, before he takes a step back from me like my touch has been burning him all along.

"What?" I mumble confused, my body still frozen for another two seconds.

Was the intimacy we shared mere seconds ago all in my head? Was I into the moment all by myself?

"I'm going to get you some water to sober up and then you're going to call your fucker of a boyfriend to get your ass out of here."

"You can't do that!" I stamp my foot against the floor, before struggling and standing up. "You have no right to tell me what to do."

"Very mature of you. Alright." He says, ignoring my outburst and heading for the door. "You shouldn't have been here in the first place."

"Go fuck yourself, Connor," I shout at his back, before grabbing a pillow and throwing it at his back.

The asshat that he is, he easily nudges out of the way without even having to look back.

In a second, though, Connor turns on his feet, makes a turn, and heads back to me, his boots slapping the wooden floor furiously.

Oh-uh, someone is definitely angry now.

Even though my heart is beating loudly inside my chest, and my head's spinning like crazy as I still recover from the moment we shared, I don't back away.

He grabs my chin with his fingers roughly, tilting it up to look me dead in the eye.

The cold gaze he throws at me, makes chills run down my whole body in the most delicious way. Suddenly I'm serious and sober again, AND completely turned on.

Oh, Virgin Mary, I'm a masochist. Even his anger gets me hot.

"Do that again, and my face will be the last thing you'll ever see." He mumbles through his teeth, holding me hostage with his gaze and touch.

"I'm not scared of you," I answer, grabbing his shirt into my fist, to let him know I'm not as weak as he thinks I am.

"Cut the bullshit, Jones. Now, be the good girl that you are, place your ass back on the bed and wait. Though I'm not sure you know what that word means."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask him, glaring.

He smirks, his eyes empty as ever, before letting go of me. Then he just turns around and leaves the room without a word.

I stare after him, half sober, breathless, and fully confused now. What did he mean? What the hell did he mean?

Although, you know what? I don't even want to know, and I'm definitely not going to stick around in this room to find out.

Screw you, Connor.

Screw you!

It takes me almost 10 minutes to reach the bar and grab a bottle of cold water. I drink it down like I'm on fire because that's what even a minute alone with Connor does to me. Next, I decide to find a vacant bathroom and freshen up a little, so I can at least walk straight and take Syd and myself home. And guess what? I don't even want to know anything about Connor's fight with Isaac, so there is no need to stay here anymore. From now on, I'm not interested in anything Connor does, period.

After being stuck in a line for almost 15 minutes, I finally enter a bathroom on the second floor.

"Holy cow, Mia," I breathe out, looking in the mirror, with both of my hands resting on the sides of the sink. "You are a mess."

I brush my fingers through my light brown hair, run my pointer fingers under my eyes to correct my sparkling eyeshadow, and splash a little water on my cheeks.

Then I gulp down the rest of the water I've been carrying with me for the last couple of minutes and once I'm a little sober, I decide to move along.

Opening the door of the bathroom, I let out a shrink.

"Oh my God, you scared me to death." I breathe out, coming face to face with Isaac. He's lucky I am not fully sobber, because instead of giving him my deathly glare, I smile, as if I'm happy to see a friend.

He answers with his own drunken smile, but his eyes tell me he's done more than drinking tonight. The dude's completely hammered!

"You came," he says, leaning against the wall, as I look around, realizing we're alone here. Somehow, this puts me off a little, because I'm pretty sure there was a long line after me.

"Um... yeah. It's a great party."

"Glad, you've been enjoying yourself. Although, I feel like you might be sad Trouble couldn't make it."

"Pardon?" I ask, trying to cover my surprise with confusion. Okay first of all, why the hell is he saying this to me? Does he know anything? How in the world? And second of all, the party boy is going to be surprised to find out he's wrong and Connor IS actually here.

"Come on, Mia. I know when a bitch is lying."

My mouth almost touches the floor. How dare this jerkhead talk to me like that?

"Okay, now you're being a disrespectful asshole, and I hate that kind."

"Do you? Because it seems like you had no problem fucking the psycho."

"What the hell, Isaac? Watch your mouth."

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about? I know you and Connor have a thing going on."

"Fuck off, Isaac. Obviously, you're high, and I don't want to do anything with you. Tomorrow, I'll be waiting for a sincere apology... in a written form." I glare at him, as I try to sidestep him and make my way down, but suddenly his hand reaches out and grabs my wrist roughly, yanking me back in front of him.

"What the...? Let go of me! Right now!" I growl at him, my heartbeat crazy. I'm scared but I'm trying everything in me not to show it. People like him get off on fear, and I don't want to give him the satisfaction.

He ignores my warning,  pushing my back against the bathroom door.

I try to kick him in the shin, but he anticipates my move and blocks my feet with his.

"You little..." he growls irritated with all the jerky moves I'm doing to get rid of him.

"I said, let go of me!" I practically shout at his face, struggling to push him back with both my hands against his chest, to get rid of his dirty hold. But as much as I try to fight him, it feels like I can't get through to him. He grabs my chin with a hand, probably abusing my skin there and making me tremble from fear.

"Why? I'm trying to show you why he fucked my face up." He says with a cynical smile, and it takes me a second to realize he means Connor. "If the asshole lost it just because I chose you as a fuck I'd enjoy, imagine what he'll do once he finds out I fucked you against this bathroom door."

"You're disgusting, and you'll pay for every dirty word out of your mouth." My voice is trembling even when I try to hide it.

"Now, now, kitten, I know how much you want me to find out what's under all your ridiculously cute clothes." He says, his voice sending a chill down my spine.

No, no, no, this can't be happening! I won't let this happen.

I shout louder and fight harder to kick him anywhere I can and then one second he's caging me against the bathroom door, his mouth inches away for mine, the next he's dragged off of me with an invisible force and thrown in the opposite corner of the hallway.

Standing up straight, my eyes huge and my whole body shaking with fear, my surroundings start to slowly come into focus when I see the only pair of green eyes that could calm me down right now.

And just like that, I can breathe again.