He looked at me, eyes wide and incredulous.
I took one look at him, and laughed even harder. I was a loud laugher; absolutely uncontrollable, but I had to stop because of the pain. It was lancing up my side as I clutched at my stomach; it was hot enough to sober me up.
Julian waited for it to pass, more patient than I'd expect, the corner of his mouth twitching.
"Okay," I gasped. "I'm sorry. It's really not funny."
"No, it isn't."
"It sounds ridiculous in my head."
He waited.
"He said--" Another giggle escaped. Soon enough, I was hysterical again; the kind of hysterical where I was slapping my knees and fighting back tears - I was convinced some tears were because of the pain, though.
"Brooke!" I sobered up at the sound of his voice, looked into his staring eyes, and started laughing again.
"Stop looking at me!"
"Me looking at you shouldn't make you laugh."
"Why?" I asked. "You're not as intimidating as you think."
"I am," he insisted. "Just not to you, it seems."
"Not to me," I agreed, and stared at his pale collarbone as I spoke. "He said I was 'tasty'. I would have thought it was some weird thirst comment, but then he said something about 'dinner'. . ."
I trailed off when I saw Julian. His eyes were cold as ice, mouth thin. "You're quite sharp, aren't you?"
His voice was flatter than I'd ever heard it. "Usually."
"If you're sharp, you'll understand this then," he said, and leaned closer. My heart pumped wildly. "You'll forget what you heard. All of it."
"Why?"
"If you want to survive in this town," he hissed, "you won't try and understand. You won't try and figure it out. You'll leave it the fuck alone."
"Why should I?" It was a gasp.
His dark eyes burned, tip of his nose only centimetres away from mine. "Because you're too young to die."
A cold feeling washed through me as Julian pulled away, looked out the window. Panting, I watched his pale throat move as he swallowed. By the look of it, he didn't seem like he was joking.
"No one's too young to die."
"You are," Julian whispered, so quiet I barely caught it.
I could see, just by the set of his jaw and clenching fists, that I wasn't getting any further today.
"Should we start?"
He nodded, and I began opened books and texts. At some point, Julian turned and watched as I explained, but I felt his eyes on me always.
My eyelids grew heavy, and my voice got boring as I droned, even to my own ears.
Soon enough, lack of sleep caught up with me and my head was in my hand, eyes closed. I don't know how long I was out, drifting in a dark sea of unconsciousness, but I woke to cold fingers on my stomach, pain prickling over it.
Groggily, I opened my eyes to see Julian leant forward, eyes staring at my stomach. Shock forked through me as I realised it was his fingers probing along my soft, bruised - bare - stomach.
I jolted up. His hand flew away, my top falling down.
I was too furious to be embarrassed, although I was sure it'd come later. "What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded.
He actually had the decency to flush slightly, the tops of his pale cheeks turning pink. Yet his eyes never left mine, unfailingly level. Unashamed, despite the fact I'd just caught him undressing - and ogling - me.
Was there an ounce of shame in this guy?
"We should have got the second packet of peas." Was all he said, before gesturing to the text books.
"Why did you let me fall asleep?"
"You're hard to wake up."
That was true. I glared at him, putting force behind it, so he's know I meant it. Then I spoke, very clearly, "never touch me like that again, do you understand?"
He stared at me.
"Do you understand me?" I repeated, cold as ice.
Julian blinked curls out of his eyes. His mouth twisted slightly, obviously irritated at my demand, before he tapped my exercise book. "Can we carry on?"
I would have pressed him further, if it wasn't for the gleam in his eye. The gleam that said he understood.
"Of course," I said with a smile. "When did I fall asleep?"