the foyer and the forum. But what catches my eyes are that several of the monitors are flipping through each of the classrooms. What if they saw me and my Proctor?
I wait for him to turn around. I wonder if he can sense my fear. I want to run out of the room and hide, but with all the monitors there is no escape. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. I’m losing control. I can’t get enough air. I frantically look for something to help me; anything at all but the room is sparse, except the surveillance equipment.
He turns and looks at me.
I don’t look away. “He’s so beautiful.” He knows, I can see it in his expression, he’s eyes. His eye, I know them. He is the man from my nightmares. I’m losing my mind. He stands and walks towards me. I can’t talk. I can’t breathe. I want to disappear, wake up or run. I can’t move. I try, but my feet aren’t responding. Is this what it feels like to completely malfunction?
I see him.
He’s standing in front of me. His mouth is moving; he’s saying something, and it must be important because his eyes are frantic. I can’t hear him, but I can smell him: crisp, soft, familiar. But the scent disappears. I gasp; desperately trying to find a hint of his fragrance…nothing.
I should be able to feel him.
His hands are on my shoulders. He’s shaking me, but I can’t feel him. I want to feel him. I want the same sensation I felt when he touched me; kissed me in my dreams. I think to myself that it would be different. I am prepared for his touch, and I would enjoy it. But I am numb.
I focus on his eyes; do they belong to him or am I hallucinating? Is he really here, has he stepped out of my mind? I feel another wave of the nausea crash over me. “Please don’t vomit on him!”
His arms surround me. I think I might be falling. I don’t know though because I’m sure that my body has completely detached itself from my mind. All I have are my thoughts. I imagine what it must feel like to have his arms around me. I think of my nightmare…I’m supposed to rescue him.
I see his face and the ceiling behind him. “That’s odd…why, is the ceiling against the wall.” My mind is starting to fade too. I decide to concentrate on his eyes again. When I first noticed them earlier, I thought they were just dark but now that he is so close to me I realize I was wrong. They are dark brown with flecks of gold and copper; they are beautiful. His hair is much the same; dark brown with subtle golden streaks. His face, I wish he would smile at me so I can see his dimple. Adam has a dimple too, are they the same person? I’m losing it. I can’t focus.
The edges of my vision blur with darkness. I can no longer feel myself breath. The only things I know are that I’ve lost my mind, and he is amazing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emma
I can smell autumn: crisp, earthy and safe. I open my eyes; I expect trees, but I see him. My back is cold, and he is kneeling over me. I sit up. He looks worried.
“Are you okay?” I’m concerned he might be ill.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Excuse me?” I’m confused; did he not understand?
“I’m fine,” he says. “What the Hell happened to you?”
“Me?” He must be ill. “I’m fine too.”
“You just passed out,” he touches my forehead with the back of his hand. “I thought you were dead for a second.”
I look around the room. I’m sitting on the floor, and he’s next to me. My body is sweaty, and my clothes cling to me. “I passed out?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, is there something wrong with me?” He seems to be on the verge of panic. His breaths are quick. He has this look on his face which, suggest distress. “Should I go to the infirmary?”
“Let me run a scan on you,” he retrieves his receptor and I place my hand on it and wait.
He’s busy looking at the monitor.
“Do you remember me,” I ask?
“What?” He looks up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Quinn,” I say. “I know
I wait for him to turn around. I wonder if he can sense my fear. I want to run out of the room and hide, but with all the monitors there is no escape. I close my eyes and concentrate on my breathing. I’m losing control. I can’t get enough air. I frantically look for something to help me; anything at all but the room is sparse, except the surveillance equipment.
He turns and looks at me.
I don’t look away. “He’s so beautiful.” He knows, I can see it in his expression, he’s eyes. His eye, I know them. He is the man from my nightmares. I’m losing my mind. He stands and walks towards me. I can’t talk. I can’t breathe. I want to disappear, wake up or run. I can’t move. I try, but my feet aren’t responding. Is this what it feels like to completely malfunction?
I see him.
He’s standing in front of me. His mouth is moving; he’s saying something, and it must be important because his eyes are frantic. I can’t hear him, but I can smell him: crisp, soft, familiar. But the scent disappears. I gasp; desperately trying to find a hint of his fragrance…nothing.
I should be able to feel him.
His hands are on my shoulders. He’s shaking me, but I can’t feel him. I want to feel him. I want the same sensation I felt when he touched me; kissed me in my dreams. I think to myself that it would be different. I am prepared for his touch, and I would enjoy it. But I am numb.
I focus on his eyes; do they belong to him or am I hallucinating? Is he really here, has he stepped out of my mind? I feel another wave of the nausea crash over me. “Please don’t vomit on him!”
His arms surround me. I think I might be falling. I don’t know though because I’m sure that my body has completely detached itself from my mind. All I have are my thoughts. I imagine what it must feel like to have his arms around me. I think of my nightmare…I’m supposed to rescue him.
I see his face and the ceiling behind him. “That’s odd…why, is the ceiling against the wall.” My mind is starting to fade too. I decide to concentrate on his eyes again. When I first noticed them earlier, I thought they were just dark but now that he is so close to me I realize I was wrong. They are dark brown with flecks of gold and copper; they are beautiful. His hair is much the same; dark brown with subtle golden streaks. His face, I wish he would smile at me so I can see his dimple. Adam has a dimple too, are they the same person? I’m losing it. I can’t focus.
The edges of my vision blur with darkness. I can no longer feel myself breath. The only things I know are that I’ve lost my mind, and he is amazing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Emma
I can smell autumn: crisp, earthy and safe. I open my eyes; I expect trees, but I see him. My back is cold, and he is kneeling over me. I sit up. He looks worried.
“Are you okay?” I’m concerned he might be ill.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Excuse me?” I’m confused; did he not understand?
“I’m fine,” he says. “What the Hell happened to you?”
“Me?” He must be ill. “I’m fine too.”
“You just passed out,” he touches my forehead with the back of his hand. “I thought you were dead for a second.”
I look around the room. I’m sitting on the floor, and he’s next to me. My body is sweaty, and my clothes cling to me. “I passed out?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No, is there something wrong with me?” He seems to be on the verge of panic. His breaths are quick. He has this look on his face which, suggest distress. “Should I go to the infirmary?”
“Let me run a scan on you,” he retrieves his receptor and I place my hand on it and wait.
He’s busy looking at the monitor.
“Do you remember me,” I ask?
“What?” He looks up at me. “What do you mean?”
“Quinn,” I say. “I know
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