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2: CLAUSTROPHOBIA

Author: annie-sullie
last update Last Updated: 2022-11-02 11:47:42

I’ve heard the rumors.

Of course I’ve heard the rumors. At Acadia academy, even the deaf hear the rumors, and there are a lot; most of them true, some of them downright outlandish. But right now, the rumors I’d heard about William Ravenstone begin to suspiciously make sense. Drugs and alcohol weren’t things that harmfully affected teen werewolves, unless one had a genetic disorder, but this fact didn’t make addicts in the community any less marginalized.

I press a palm to my forehead, huffing out a breath and running a shaky hand through my hair. The vodka is really beginning to take over. I glare back at William. There are many things that annoy me in this world, but up there in my top ten are people who can’t own up to their shit. “A few broken bones, so what? I’d heal.” I reply, stumbling and peeping over the edge of the ledge, down to the darkness below.

I shudder to think how things might’ve gone if he hadn’t pulled me back.

I would heal, yes, but it’d be a hell of a painful experience and a small part of me thanked his fast reflexes in silence. I turn around, sniffing and nod to his pills, or more like his pocket. “Is that why you’re up here? To get high in peace?”

William’s expression tightens. For a second he says nothing but simply stares at me with a slightly hurt expression. I can tell that he’s trying to hide it, but I’m good at seeing the slips and cracks in people’s poker faces. “Whatever.” He sighs and shakes his head, then brushes past me, silent anger rolling off him in waves.

“What a grade one asshole.” I mutter, sure that he’s heard me regardless.

Suddenly, from the edge of my vision, I catch a glimpse of a figure coming up the bell tower’s staircase with a flashlight. A student sneaking up here after curfew wouldn’t be stupid enough to use a flashlight, and the out-of-bounds, personnel-only rooftop staircase. It can only be one person; the night patrol guard.

“Pute!”

I look left and right for somewhere to hide. Behind me, William is oblivious to the looming danger, and keeps walking at a lazy pace towards the other end of the rooftop. Thinking fast, I sprint to him, grab his hand, and pull us both into a tiny space between two old industrial air conditioners closely situated together.

“What the—“

I smack a hand over his mouth and press a warning finger to my lips, eyes probably wider than coins. “Watchman...” I mouth.

His gaze narrows, but at this point the flashlight had reached the rooftop and the flood of light was enough to convince him to not do anything stupid. Practically sandwiched together, we shift further towards the wall and both silently pray the watchman doesn’t head in our direction.

I could already imagine the kind of conversation I’d be having with Principal Choi if by some terrible luck we’re caught up here after curfew, together, alone.

The sky above cackles with electricity, and a second later, thunder follows; rolling and crashing. A drop of rain falls on my cheek, and then another and another. In mere seconds, it was pouring and we were both soaked to the bone with rain water.

I blink away the rain collecting on my eyelashes and try to suppress a grin; exhilarated and feeling giddy with the idea of danger fueled by the atmosphere and the moment.

William’s hand grabs my wrist lightly, and a shock of electricity moves through me like a current. I don’t realize that my hand is still clamped over his lips until he lowers it slowly, his gaze moving at the same pace; from my eyes to my lips, and then down to the plunging neckline of my black dress that is now drenched and see-through.

We are pushed up against each other in the tight space so much so that I can feel the ragged intake of his breath where my chest is pressing into him as he gulps before quickly darting his gaze away and blinking a few times.

My lungs begin to constrict.

In my head, the tight space walls me in, moving closer and closer, and I think of a thousand scenarios where I’m crushed to death; a shoe box, a coffin, a wardrobe. I don’t do well in tight spaces and right now, I could feel my claustrophobia kicking in. My breaths turn slightly labored. William’s presence is not helping. I brace my palms on the plastic solidness of the old air conditioner behind me and try to focus on my breathing; on anything but the boy in front of me, the tight space, and the impulsive thoughts in my head.

“Are you-“

“I’m fine.” I grit out forcefully in a whisper, closing my eyes. Only three people in this school are aware of my claustrophobia, and I’m not looking to add another person to that list. I take inventory of my senses to stay present and distract myself from the squeezing space.

It’s taking my all to not stumble out in the open space and into the flood of the watchman’s flashlight. The sound of rain beating down mercilessly on us and the rooftop, the smell of dust being washed away by rain was calming too. The feeling of William’s warm, solid chest braced against me; I open my eyes and find his dilated, heavy gaze settled on my face. He moves a strand of wet hair behind my ear and trails a finger down from my cheek to the base of my throat with a feathery touch.

I felt feverish; a shudder moving down my spine.

I couldn’t think straight, and honestly, I didn’t want to. Not in this moment. I lean closer to him, wanting to taste the rain on his lips and feel electrified by his touch again.

He takes a sideways step and disappointment washes over me, embarrassment following it; rising in my throat almost as fast as the panic.

William glances out of our hiding spot. “He’s gone.” He announces, and sure enough, the flood of the watchman’s light has disappeared.

“Why did you...” I trail off, my eyebrows furrowing at William’s receding figure in the rain as he hurries off towards the window that’ll get him to the stairs and off the rooftop. Almost dumbfounded, I huff out a breath and run a palm down my face, wiping rainwater. What had I been thinking? Well, it doesn’t matter now. Embarrassment and annoyance burns my cheeks.

“Just fucking perfect...” I mumble as I begin my own walk towards the window at a much slower pace, hoping to not bump into him on the way down, and convincing myself that William Ravenstone is a piece of shit.

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