November 11th, Freshman Year
I sat in Clyde's car, wrapped in his jacket, my mind reeling from the events of the night. The darkness outside seemed to fade into the background as I stared blankly ahead.
"Take me home," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
"Where's home?" Clyde asked gently, his eyes filled with concern.
"My aunt and uncle's," I replied, my voice cracking.
Clyde nodded, his expression understanding. We drove in silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine.
I couldn't shake the memories of Professor Thompson's twisted smile, his grasping hands, and the feeling of vulnerability that had washed over me. But then I thought of Clyde's rescue, the safety of his arms, and the warmth of his jacket wrapped around me.
As we arrived at my aunt and uncle's house, Clyde walked me to the door, his hand gently guiding me.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.
I nodded, trying to muster a smile.
Clyde's eyes lingered on mine, filled with empathy.
"If you need me, call," he said, his voice low and reassuring.
I smiled weakly.
"Thanks, Clyde."
Inside, Aunt Rachel and Uncle John enveloped me in hugs, their faces etched with worry.
"What happened?" Aunt Rachel asked, her voice trembling.
Tears streamed down my face as I recounted the events.
The next day, my phone buzzed, breaking the silence.
Clyde: "Hey, are you okay?"
I smiled, feeling a sense of relief.
"Clyde, I'm fine. Thanks for checking."
When I returned to school, rumors swirled through the hallways.
"Mr. Thompson was arrested!" someone whispered.
I spotted Clyde across the quad, his eyes locking onto mine.
He smiled.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey," I replied.
"Did you hear?" Clyde asked.
"About Mr. Thompson?" I nodded.
"Fired and arrested," Clyde confirmed.
Relief washed over me, followed by a sense of justice.
Clyde's hand brushed mine.
"You're safe now," he whispered.
My heart swelled.
For Clyde.
For his protection.
For his care.
As we walked together, the sun shining down on us, I realized that Clyde had become more than just a friend.
He had become my guardian.
My confidant.
My safe haven.
---
November 12th, Freshman Year
The soft knock on my hostel door broke the silence, a gentle announcement of Clyde's arrival. My heart skipped a beat as I rose to answer it.
"Dahlia, can I come in?" Clyde's deep voice sent shivers down my spine.
I opened the door, and Clyde's bright smile illuminated the dim hallway. His eyes sparkled with warmth, and I felt my reservations melt away.
"Hey," he said, stepping inside.
Emily, my roommate, looked up from her book, curiosity etched on her face.
"Hi," she replied, her voice tinged with interest.
Clyde's presence commanded attention, and Emily's gaze lingered on him. I smiled, accustomed to his charisma.
We spent the afternoon lost in conversation, our laughter intertwining like the branches of two trees. Emily tried to join in, but her attempts felt forced, and she eventually retreated to her studies.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the room, Clyde suggested we grab coffee. Emily excused herself, leaving us alone.
Over steaming cups, Clyde listened intently as I shared stories of my day. His genuine interest made me feel seen, heard. The world outside receded, leaving only us.
As the stars began to twinkle, Clyde walked me back to my hostel. Emily's curious glances persisted, but Clyde remained oblivious.
Outside my door, he paused, his eyes locking onto mine.
"Thanks for today," he said, his voice low and husky.
I smiled.
"No problem."
Clyde's fingers brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
His lips grazed mine, a soft peck.
A gentle smile.
"See you tomorrow," he whispered.
And with that, he vanished into the night, leaving me breathless.
Emily looked up from her book.
"Spill," she said.
I blushed.
"There's nothing to spill."
Emily raised an eyebrow.
"Save it, Dahlia. I've seen the way he looks at you."
I smiled.
Maybe Emily was right.
Maybe there was something more.
Something worth exploring.
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