Apprentices: Waning Crescent

An Awkward Meeting

I was never the girl, who begged for attention. I always just got it without having to lift my finger for it. It was always hard to understand why, because I never considered myself as someone, who could have anyone’s attention just by fluttering my eyelashes.

But now that I’ve gotten used to living that way … Well, let’s just say that it makes the whole situation with Cyrus feel like the worst gut punch I’ve had to endure in my life. He doesn’t call again and I’m not sure if I’m happy about it, or disappointed.

I’ve left Beelzebub up there with him for the night. I know that I have to go back there. Get my things and my cat, then disappear like he never knew me. But I can’t know when he won’t be in there. I can’t face him. It’s just too damn difficult.

Katie lets me know that I can’t postpone this. Especially since I’m the one who f****d up. I better own up to my mistakes, right? Then why the hell doesn’t it feel like a mistake? Even after his reaction, I don’t regret it one bit. I just can’t understand why he’s resisting.

I decide to be late for breakfast today, because I don’t want the boys to see me and ask questions. I don’t want any drama, so I’ll just avoid seeing them. Instead, I put on the first clothes that I see and let my now once again best friend know, that I’m going to see him.

She freezes in surprise, then nods in approval. “Great. You go sort things out with him. I’ll see you later. Do you want me to wait in the cafeteria for you?” she wonders, making me shake my head in response.

“No, I … I might not even be going to breakfast today. I’ll see. After I get this over with,” I mumble before leaving. She offers me a compassionate smile in return and I walk out of her bedroom.

I’m trembling the whole way upstairs. Maybe I should’ve drunk some blood before going to see him. But if he smelled it on my breath so early … Yeah, no. That’s a situation I’d rather avoid. He doesn’t have to know that I might have a problem.

As I knock onto his door, I don’t even expect him to open. I mean, I totally wouldn’t be surprised if he just placed my bag and my cat outside, then slammed it in my face. It’s almost what I’m expecting him to do.

But as he opens the door, he opens it wide, almost letting me know that we won’t be doing this on the hallway. Ugh, great. This is going to be so lame. We stare at each other numbly, neither of us saying a word. Finally, he swallows nervously and steps aside, but I don’t move.

“Come in, please,” he finally asks of me, however, I keep standing there, still deciding if I should do that or not. He directs his gaze straight into my eyes, addressing me again. “Evelyn, please, we won’t be doing this outside.”

I grit my teeth together, then finally make myself walk inside, not even daring to look at him as I walk past him. In the next moment, I hear some excited meows come towards me, making a smile appear on my face as I bend down to pet my cat in greeting. “Hey, girl. I missed you too,” I let her know.

As I straighten up, I realize he’s still standing by the door. And the silence is so intense, that it makes me realize this won’t be going so well. Especially since I spoke to my cat sooner than I spoke to him.

“I came for my things,” I let him know. “And my cat,” I then add, trying to make clear that I’m not leaving her here. Despite being terrified for her safety. Cyrus frowns at my words, averting his gaze to the ground for a moment, before bringing it back towards my eyes.

He’s staring at me, deadly serious, as he shakes his head. “No. Last night … I shouldn’t have made you leave. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you …” he trails off, not finding the words to continue.

“You didn’t know if I what?” I ask, making him press his lips together and grow quiet. I scoff, unable to believe him. Why does he start saying something, if he doesn’t want to finish it? I can’t stand it!

I stare at him angrily for a few moments, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t. He keeps watching me, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the rhythm of his breathing.

“Do you want to know where I was?” I speak up as I realize he won’t say another word. “First, I tried to make my dad turn me, because I wanted to make sure you’d never have to see me again. Then, I begged Katie to let me stay with her for a while, out of the same reason. I was perfectly safe. Are you happy now?” I wonder cynically.

Hurt flickers across his face, but in the next moment, his face already hardens again. “Why would you want to be turned? Don’t you have any sense of self-preservation?” he then asks, completely ignoring everything else I’ve said.

I throw my hands up in frustration, shaking my head at him. “You’re unbelievable,” I let him know, then pause, because I don’t know what else to tell him. How am I supposed to talk to him, if he keeps choosing things to overhear?

He’s quiet again, but this time, he lifts his gaze to the ceiling for a moment, like he can’t even look at me anymore. Fine. I’ll make this easier then. I can leave without having this conversation with him. It’s not like he’ll want to keep mentoring me after I kissed him.

“I’ll be out in five,” I remark coldly, then turn on my heel and head towards where I left my things. I can hear him taking a breath behind me, but nothing follows. Of course. What else was I expecting? f**k, how can he be such a coward when it comes to these things?

Bubba starts cuddling herself against my legs as I stand beside the bed, packing the clothes that are laying outside. To my surprise, I realize the bed is made exactly the way I made it. As I turn my gaze towards the couch, I realize the pillow is wrinkled and the blanket is one big mess. Did he take the couch, because he thought I’d come back?

I stop packing, processing this thought as I try to come up with a reason why he’d do that. Why would he wait? Did he even close his eyes tonight? I turn around, flinching in surprise as I see him leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed against his chest.

He’s watching me with a serious gaze and I stare right back at him, my heart pounding against my chest. “Just tell me one thing,” I say, feeling terrified as I take a step towards him. Then another one. And another one. And one more, before I’m left standing directly in front of him, searching his eyes for answers. “Why are you fighting me?” I murmur.

I can barely breathe as I stare at him, waiting for a response. For anything, really. A few words, a touch … a kiss. I’ll take anything right now. His expression tells me that he’s not just fighting me. He’s fighting himself. “I’m not fighting you,” he finally says, making me snap.

“Oh, you’re not just fighting me, you’re also lying to me. But what’s the worst, is that you’re lying to yourself!” I burst out, staring at him in an accusative way. He freezes as he realizes that I’ve gotten dangerously close to him again.

I have no limits anymore. Now that I know the way he tastes, I can’t hold back. I’m scared of what I feel, but I know that I’ll lose my mind if I don’t make sure that he knows it. “You can’t see inside my head,” he tries again, making me shake my head.

“Maybe not. But your eyes speak loudly enough,” I let him know. Oh, how I want to pull those arms apart and make them wrap themselves around me instead. He looks like he’s desperate to be holding me, but his head keeps getting in the way. “Just tell me, why? Why are you trying to control yourself so badly?” I whisper, feeling such tension inside my chest that I feel like it’s going to make me burst.

He closes his eyes for a moment, looking like he’s fighting himself again. “You’re a student. I can’t even let myself consider it,” he replies while still keeping his eyes shut. I stand there, completely shocked. Seriously? That’s it?

“You’re not even a teacher,” I remind him, finding myself leaning closer and closer. I breathe in, catching a hint of his intoxicating scent. And it makes me lose it. But in that moment, he opens his eyes and draws in a sharp breath, his whole body stiffening as he realizes that I’m completely lacking in the control department at the moment.

“But I’m your mentor. I can’t take advantage of you like that,” he keeps fighting me, looking like he’s about to jump on the counter to escape me. I breathe out in disappointment, placing my hands on his arms as I try to untangle them.

He doesn’t want to budge at first, but I’m persistent. I stare at him with a pleading gaze, long enough to make him let out a weak grunt. In the next moment, I lead his arms around me, then take a step closer, so I can press myself closer to him. “Stop resisting,” I murmur, unable to think straight as I stare into those dark eyes.

He looks genuinely terrified. I’m terrified too. But I just can’t believe that he really doesn’t want me. I’ve seen the need in his eyes more than enough times. And all the things he did for me … He wouldn’t do half of them if he didn’t care about me more than just for a student.

“Eva, please stop,” he breathes out, and I can feel how fast his heart is beating through the thin layers of our clothes. I shake my head slowly, leaning my nose on his.

“I can’t resist you,” I murmur in response, then let myself close the distance between us. I kiss him so hungrily that it makes my chest flutter sharply, but I ignore the feeling, because I’m too busy with his lips.

He tries to hold himself back, but he fails so miserably. His strong arms pull me closer, but he doesn’t let them wander lower. He keeps them around my waist, leaving me wanting more. I bury one hand into his silky black hair, while letting the other one rest on the back of his neck.

I almost think I have him. Almost. But then, he pulls away and starts shaking his head violently. His hands are trembling again as he tries to protect himself from my persistent seductive endeavors.

“We can’t do this, please stop,” he practically begs me, then turns his back towards me, so I can’t try kissing him again. I bite my lip feeling bad that he’s fighting me so desperately. Why is he doing that? It can’t just be the whole mentor-student thing. There’s got to be something else.

I stare at his back, wanting to reach out with my arms and hug him. Tell him that it will be okay. But I don’t think it’s a smart idea right now. I run my fingers across my lips, still able to feel his soft skin against mine. “Fine,” I then say, already regretting the word the moment it leaves my mouth. “I’ll get out of here now. But I won’t apologize for kissing you. Because I’m not sorry,” I let him know before heading back to bed.

He draws in a sharp breath, turning his head over his shoulder, saying: “You should be. It’s not right.” I stop in my tracks and twirl around to look at him. Before I’m able to say something in response, he turns around too and tells me something that makes my jaw drop. “I’m not going to let you leave. Your life is in danger and I won’t let anything happen to you,” he lets me know.

I stare at him in complete shock, then think about his words for a moment. “You can’t mean that,” I remark, watching him as he stands there, leaning against the counter. He nods in response.

“Yes, I do. I might not be able to stand being in the same room as you right now … But I won’t let that be the reason you get hurt,” he speaks up, and I frown the moment I hear those words leave his mouth. I can’t believe this guy. He wants to kiss me, but doesn’t. And he doesn’t want me to stay here, but still does?

“Just make up your mind, damn it. You can’t expect me to stay here and not lose my mind next to you,” I grit through my teeth, suddenly feeling angry again. This man is literally asking to get his ass beaten.

He stares at me in surprise, before putting on a mask of indifference. “Well, it looks like we’ll both have to learn how to hold back, won’t we?” he retorts, taking me aback. In the next moment, I’m left speechless as he comes to grab the bag from my hands, then put it back down next to the bed. “You’re staying, because I don’t trust anyone else to keep you safe right now,” he lets me know.

Before I’m able to give into the temptation, he already walks away, heading towards the kitchen counter to start preparing breakfast. I stand there, completely dumbfounded, while my cat jumps on the bed and rubs her head against my hand.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asks without turning his gaze towards me. I stare at him, still in shock from what just happened. He glances at me, trying his best not to look pissed, but he’s failing miserably. I shake my head in response, making him turn back to the counter. “I’ll make something for both of us then,” he murmurs, while I stand there, trying to figure out how we got to this point.