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someting for you.

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Well, here is something more on my book. tell me what you think and enjoy!

“Dear Ella Marie,
I hope you don’t think me too forward. I have been watching you your four years here. I think you have caught a special…interest in my heart. I have never felt this way about anyone before. I don’t applaud for you because I don’t want to arouse suspicion. I avoid you for the same reason. It’s for your own safety and protection. But these facts won’t stop me anymore. I cannot live a lie anymore. I love you. I want you. I know that’s a little much for your age but it’s true. I refuse to ignore you any more.”

That was it. No signature. But I knew it was from Tom.
Over dinner I thought about the note. It was…suspicious how to never told me his true feelings. I wish someone had told me. Or hinted toward it at least. While I was searching desperately and longingly for him, I was aware of someone’s eyes boring into my body. It was the gorgeous green eyes of my admirer. I looked up to find the source of the gaze at the far right end of the table but he wasn’t there. Instead he was at my side. I was so shocked I nearly chocked on my meat. I had found the source of the never ceasing gaze, successfully, of Tom was in the seat to the right of me. Not at the far end.
“How are we this evening?” said the sweet feathery sweet voice of the man next to me. When I did not answer right away he said, “Beautiful as ever I see.”
Silence
“Ella? Are you okay?”
“Why aren’t you at the far end as usual.” I asked without looking at him. I know it was a stupid question, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“I thought I said that. In my letter to you. ‘I refuse to ignore you any more.’ I love you, remember?”
“I’m still questing.”
“About what?”
“About you. I mean, I need to know more about you.”
“Okay. Free hour. Far left corner. Come alone.”
“Don’t worry. Vida Lara always talks to someone else at free hour.” And that was it. We ate in silence.
“Why?”
“Hmmm?” Tom had been just sitting there looking at the other students, thinking.
“Why do you like me. Why not her or her?” I pointed out some random girls that were older than me. “They’re pretty. And beautiful.”
“Ella, you’re-”
“Ella Marie.” I corrected him.
“Fine then. Ella Marie, you’re beautiful. They don’t have your grace and charm.”
“What about me is beautiful or charming or graceful?”
“First, your personality is beautiful, your figure, your face, your big purple eyes, your rosy cheeks, your full lips…” he trailed of when he said this.
“My lips?”
“I haven’t tried them. I can’t tell you until I try them.” he chuckled at this. He was joking around with me. I didn’t know weather to laugh with him, to slap his face his gorgeous face and walk off, or to just sit quietly. While I was thinking of how to get away quickly enough, because he was only about a foot away, he was studying my face.
“What?” I asked when I realized he was staring at me with his never ceasing gaze.
“I was just kidding you know. I didn’t mean to offend you if I did. Sorry.” his eyes were actually sorry. Sympathetic. I was enveloped by then again. I pulled out of it this time without anyone’s help, but with effort.
“Ella?” his hand was on my face. Cold and gentle. I recoiled at the chilly sting. My face felt slightly on fire.
“Sorry,” he said again. This time his eyes revealed worry. Uncertainty. I looked at his hands in his lap. I took his right hand in both of mine. They were cold. Like ice almost.
“Why are your hands so cold?” I asked, not looking away from his long white fingers in between mine. No answer.
“Tom?”
“I like the way you say my name.” I looked up to see his face. His eyes were slightly taunting while he smiled slightly, ruthlessly almost.
“Stay on the subject please,”
“I-I can’t tell you that. Not yet.” I let go of his hand. The fiery sensation was all that was left.
“Well whatever the problem, they leave a fiery feeing whenever you touch me.”
“Well, I’ll tell you the reason for that feeling of yours.” he took my face in both of his hands. His face only inches from mine. “I have cold hands, right?” his cool breath fanning into my face. It smelled minty fresh. Like my dad’s breath smelled did when I was a child. When I smelled his sweet breath I blinked surprised and smiled to myself a bit. I’ll ask him later.
“Anytime I touch someone, they feel a pain they either fear or have felt before. Have you ever felt the faint burning of a fire against your skin?” He asked softly.
“Yes.” I said, tears coming to my eyes at the horrid memory. The tears stung and I cried. Sobbed quietly really. Suddenly, I was by him on the couch in that little corner, instead of on the love seat across from him, sobbing quietly in his chest. His gentle arms around me. Nobody was looking. We were too far away to be heard. Thank God for that.
“Shhhh, shhhh, It’s okay. There, there. Shhhh.” he soothed me. It felt good, telling someone the secret I’ve kept for so long.
“I was seven and a half. The whole house burned down. I escaped but nobody else did. All my family: my mom, dad, 2 brothers, aunts, uncles, grandparents, cousins; all of them but one aunt who didn’t live with us in our huge mansion. I was sent there, to my Aunt Tracy’s for a year with a servant girl of hers, to take care of me, she didn’t want to see the horrid child that she now fad custody of. Aunt Tracy hated me. Then I was sent, well shipped really, here and have been here ever since.” I looked up at him to see how he was going to react to my foolish sobbing into his shirt, ruining it most likely. While my own was rumpled too. I thought he was going to cry as well. “Don’t tell anyone please. I haven’t even told Vida Lara. And she’s my only and closest friend. The head mistress doesn’t even know!” I pleaded to him.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed. I found the side of my head on his chest again.
“Do you think of my actions rash? Of me foolish? Do you still like me?” I asked in worry.
“No, no. the situation is totally understandable. And I still love you. I only pity you more now that I know.” He pulled me away from himself to look me in the face, his attire ruffled and wet now, “I know what it feels like to be rejected. Now I know you a little better. Thank you.” while he was saying this and studying my tearstained face and wiping away the still coming tears, I was readjusting his dark navy shirt. He took my hands in his. But when he took his hands off my shoulders, they didn’t burn. I was surprised.
“My shoulders, they don’t burn.” I said quietly.
“Good. That means you’ve either gotten used to my touch, which I doubt, or you’re no longer afraid. That’s good.” he said smiling. “Telling me about that must have helped you, even in the slightest way.” he continued, still smiling.
“I have a few more questions.”
“And they are,” He inquired.
“One why does your breath smell so good and two what do you mean ‘feel rejected‘?” I asked.
“For the first question: my breath smells like a good memory to an individual. Like…what does it smell like to you?”
“Fathers breath from my childhood. I would only smell his breath when he laughed.” I said smiling at the faint memory.
“Second, I was unwanted in my childhood.”
“Oh.” I said softly, moving my arms around his waist as to comfort him. “Now, I think this will be my last question.”
“You think? You mean you might have more?”
“Yes. Now, how did you decide you love me? Why?”
“Time. The more we’re together, the more I know I’m right. You comfort attempts are helpful.” I thought this over… “do you want to go outside?”
“Yes, I would enjoy that.” I admitted.
“Let’s go.” he said as he took my hand in his as he pulled me up off the couch and we went together out to the woods surrounding Grove Academy. There we disappeared from the world and it’s grief.
“Where exactly are we going?” I asked irritated. But he did not answer. Instead he just Kept pulling me by my hand. “Tom! My skirt is getting ruined!”
“Ella Marie, don’t yell. The other teachers will know we’re out here if you keep it up.” he scolded me while putting his finger to my lips. “We’re almost there. About fifteen more feet. Gosh. You don’t have to have a cow. Oh, and by the way, no matter how ruffled your skirt gets, you still look good to me.”
“Flirt.” I accused him while trying not to make eye contact with him and blushing, feeling lifted by his complimenting of my looks.
“Here we are.” he said as we appeared in some sort clearing.
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Comments

  1. pussnboots's Avatar
    except for a few spelling typos, keep it going.
    Your mom should be proud of you!!!
  2. motherhubbard's Avatar
    her mom is always proud of her! I have some fantastic kids
  3. browneyedbailey's Avatar
    lol, what i want to know, is: do you think the characters are more defined; am I skipping back and forth; are you confused by any of it; and, do you think i will succeed.