Class so far this morning was about as uneventful as they come, I was beyond excited that I only had the one lecture today, I was eager to get home and finish all of my almost due assignments with multiple cartons of Chinese takeout.
I've been watching the clock for the better part of the last twenty-five minutes, it seems to slow down whenever my eyes wander over to it, hands taunting ticking in a lazy rhythm.
I huff turning back to my blank computer screen, with nothing to type I begin picking at the tiny scabs that cover yesterday's puncture wounds, as soon as I have the healing flesh coming lose a tiny drop of blood oozes from the reopened scratch.
Sighing at my age-old bad habit, I wipe the crimson smear away, unfortunately using the sleeve of my white long sleeve button down.
Finally, professor Wilson progresses from ancient Greek community living and onto religious practices, beliefs and my personal favourite Mythology.
"So we all know that Zeus was kind of a man-whore," she sighs to herself running a hand over her tightly pulled back brown hair. "Yet he was still recognised by the Greeks to be the 'God of Gods', the ruler of Olympus."
***
Wilson spent the next ninety minutes telling us about Zeus's many sexual conquests.
By the time we were dismissed, I couldn't seem to shake the image of a giant swan or shimmering golden rain out of my mind, I shuddered whenever I had to think about all of the dirty tricks Zeus had used to seduce women.
After everything, I have no intention of seeing or talking to anyone today.
I haven't spoken to Callie since I left Hunter's place yesterday, I have no idea what to say about my abrupt exit.
I really don't want to see him.
The beautifully dangerous explosion of glass was still fresh in my mind, and I for lack of a better word was slightly scared.
It wasn't that hadn't been around that kind aggression before, because trust me it wasn't really new to me. Trouble and I, we go way back. for a time we went hand in hand.
But what happened yesterday just seemed to hit a little too close to home.
But it seemed that fate had other plans for me, and was cheering for the other team.
Looking almost illegally good, wearing a black leather jacket over an off white T-shirt, black shit-kickers the finishing touch being the reflective aviators perched on the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, was Hunter leaning one foot crossed over the other against the driver's side door of my mustang.
I sigh to myself, then consider turning back to the school before Hunter can notice my presence, as soon as the thought appears in my head Hunter's snaps around, his shielded gaze locking on mine.
My breath catches in my throat, as he pushes his lean body off of my car and takes a step forward, waiting there for me to close the distance between the two of us, I knew it was too late for me to escape in the opposite direction, but I don't make any move to get closer.
A small frown touches his lips before taking a few steps to me.
"Hi," he speaks quietly, cautious even.
I almost miss the way he would usually call me Cupcake with a smirk on his face and his dimples making teasing appearances.
"Hi," I say back.
"About last night. . . " He begins, looking a little unsure of himself, "I'm sorry," he whispers, "for scaring you."
He slides his glasses atop his head waiting for me to answer, so I give a small nod.
"C'mon, Cupcake," he gives me his sexy bad boy smirk, but his eyes hold a pleading quality.
''Just for the record, I wasn't scared.''