Mated to My Powerful Alpha Abroad

Chapter 8 : The Studio

Dawn's POV

I woke up better than Candice did the next morning.

By that I mean I woke up not wanting to set the world on fire and she, well, didn't. “God…" Candice groaned as she hung off the side of the bed, her hair hanging on the floor below her as she extended her arms as far as she could. I could only shake my head from the bathroom where I was busy brushing my teeth. “I want to die."

“I think you might already be dead," I told her in response as I moved back to the bathroom to rinse my mouth. “Explains the look on your face."

She groaned again as I laughed and pulled on my socks. “I didn't know being dead could hurt this much. Why did you let me drink so much at the club, anyway?"

“You had like, one beer at the club," I recalled. “And half of mine I think, but at the bar…"

I laughed again when Candice groaned, pulling the covers over her head and curling up into a ball when knocking was heard from the front door. I looked at it as I turned away from Candice and went to open it. What I didn't expect to see was Craig, standing outside of my bedroom door with an envelope and key in his hand.

“Oh," I said. “Hey."

“Morning. Are you ready?"

I felt my brows pull together as I tilted my head. “Ready for what?"

Craig lifted up the envelope then, it was a large white envelope with no printing on either side, but when he opened and showed me the contents of it I saw in bold letters right on top in the middle it read; Assignment One: Themes and Variations.

I gasped as I grabbed the paper from his hands. “Is that--?" I didn't finish my sentence when he hummed in response, affirming what it was I thought. “When did you get this?" I asked as I began to read over it.

“They sent it out in an email this morning, I just had it printed, figured it would be better to have a hard copy, so we sho—"

“Arrghhhh!"

I didn't lift my head up when Candice let out a gruesome groan, her voice going from low to high pitch as she stretched out and then flopped down onto the floor. I could hear each and every movement from how close she was to the door, as well as the little jump and shift in his stance Craig gave at the unexpected sound.

“Is she--?"

“Not dead," I told him in response as I pulled on my shoes and grabbed my bag. “Which is what she should be grateful for after the night she had. Here, hold this for a second."

I gave Craig the envelope and paper back before going inside again, moving to the small kitchen in the room. I grabbed a glass and jug of ice water from the fridge before moving to Candice's bed and placing both items on the floor next to her.

I left her like that with a plastic bag inside a trashcan and a few headache pills to tide her over.

“Is she going to be alright?" Craig asked as we approached the building where our studio was going to be held.

There had been a few other buildings that some of the contestants were assigned, but to promote fairness and to prevent cheating, the teams had been spread out throughout the entire campus so that none of us would potentially run into each other or see what the other was working on.

“Yeah, she'll be fine."

I followed him into the elevator, reading on the piece of paper he had printed which floor we were on was easy enough and I moved to press the floor button on the door, but just as I did he moved too, and we bumped into each other as we both tried to move away.

“So… sorry…" I backed away as he did, and hesitated for a moment as I looked back at him before moving forward again to press the button.

Craig cleared his throat as he moved back towards the elevator, crossing his hands behind his back as he stared at the door, waiting for it to open.

As the elevator rose to the top floor, I suddenly found it increasingly uncomfortable to be next to him like this. It wasn't like I was intimidated or felt unsafe, but it was more… awkwardness. I didn't know what to do or say suddenly, and all aspects of small talk suddenly seemed so foolish.

What did you even say to a man who kissed you suddenly, then you ran away once you came to realize that you were enjoying it a little too much given it was the very same man who had left you high and dry the last time you were in that exact situation?

More than that, but the fact that he had probably saved my life last night in the club when there was no doubt that the man in the club was staring straight at me.

“Dawn," Craig called out, and my head snapped towards him and out of the reverie I was in.

“Huh?"

“The door's open."

I let out a little laugh.

“The… Dawn's open." I grinned to myself at the pun, turning to look at him with a wide smile as I pointed to the elevator doors. “Get it? Because Dawn sounds similar to—"

“I'm not laughing because I didn't get it, if that's what you're wondering." He deadpanned, and I pulled my lips into a thin line as I nodded my head and moved out of the elevator.

“Fair enough."

The elevator opened up into a long hallway, the only thing that lit it up was a singular large light in the middle hanging from the ceiling. At the end of the hallway there was a large door, which I assumed was opened by the key currently in my hand.

When we walked up to the door and opened it, we were greeted with a spectacular sight in front of us. The studio itself was immaculately clean, with white tiled floors that expanded the entire place. There were curtains hanging not from the windows, but from rails attached to the ceiling lining all throughout the entire space, giving us the opportunity to pull them and section off the area as we saw fit.

The windows themselves, which didn't have curtains, were tall and wide, giving us amazing natural lighting that shone throughout the entire space. The sun was blaring down into the place right now as it still raised higher and higher into the sky, and I felt goosebumps run over my arms at how amazing the space was.

My attention was caught by a winding staircase to the right hand side of the studio. I moved towards it and began climbing, slow and steady, wondering where else it could go if not for–

Yes. The roof.

The staircase led to a small landing, just enough for one person to stand on before the door to the roof was open. Once I opened it and moved forward I was out onto the top of the roof immediately with the university in front of me, and the town just a few roads away. The building was tall enough for me to see the tips of the buildings as they lined out in front of us, and the university front grass and main quad, too.

“Coaliton really is a step above the rest," Craig whistled as he came to stand beside me, his body so close I could feel the heat that radiated from him as his arm barely brushed against my own.

“It's certainly not like anything we have back home." I breathed out as I stared out across the rest of the rooftop. There were some chairs here and a small table, indicating that there had been students here before. I moved towards it and traced across the surface of it, noting the engraved initials of the students who had been here before.

“You think they were here for the same reason?" Craig asked me as he walked up from behind me, staring at the same thing that caught my attention.

“Maybe," I murmured as I stared at the initials, tracing over them.

There was a flick that sounded out, and I turned around to see that Craig had brandished a pocket knife from somewhere while I was looking away. “Woah, hey. What are you doing?"

“You don't think we should leave our legacy too?" he asked as he leaned over the table, his large hand expanding on the table as he rested his body weight on it. I couldn't help but notice the shift in his shoulders, and the muscles on his back, as he carved his initials into the wooden table.

C.B.

Craig Blackstone.

My eyes lifted up to meet the hand he outstretched towards me, handing me the knife himself before I grabbed it from his hands. “What about you, Miss Fairborn?" There was a glint in his eyes, as though he were challenging me. “Will you leave your mark on this university?"

I narrowed my eyes at his question, and without thinking I slid my hands over his, trying to ignore the way my heart hammered in my chest at the contact, before taking the knife from him and carving my own name into the table right next to his.

“Dawn Fairborn…" he murmured as he read my name out, as though he were considering something more than just the writing on the table.

“And Craig Blackstone." I replied chirpily. “Strange names, you don't think?"

He hummed in response, not taking his eyes off from where our names sat together. As though he were considering something I couldn't even begin to figure out. “Your name sounds interesting, though. What does it mean? Do you know much about your family name?"

“I guess so." He shrugged as he turned away, walking back towards the door that led back into the studio.

“You guess so?" I asked him as I followed. “You don't know?"

“I know enough about it to know that I don't need to know anything else."

I paused on the staircase as I stared at him, my eyes squinting together as I tried to figure out what would have ever solicited that vague *ss response. “You're really weird, you know that?"

He scoffed at me as he turned around. “You're one to talk. What about you? Family name?"

I nodded as I skipped down the last few steps. “It was my mother's maiden name. My aunt got a lot of weird looks when I was younger because of it."

“Why would she?"

“Oh, um—" I moved towards one of the sections in the corner that held my art pieces, noticing how the staff must have brought it up here with the rest of my art things. “My parents died when I was young, so my aunt took me in. She was my mother's sister, so—"

Craig nodded as he pieced it together. “So people assumed she was your mother often."

I laughed lightly at the fond memories of seeing my aunt sometimes flustered whenever we were in public and people would complement her on how young she looked. She would later watch as their face fell when she explained she was young, and the assuming looks quickly overtook their faces.

Craig didn't say anything else after that with regards to family as he changed the subject to what we should focus on with regards to the project. I remained silent as I listened to him speaking, but couldn't quite shake off how vague and… ashamed? He seemed to sound when he spoke about his family name.