Page 40 of A Dusk Of Stars

Can’t believe I fell asleep while working.

As soon as I look up, I see it was Bane who I heard clearing his throat. He’s looking at me intently, a book in the hand he has on the desk before me.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he purrs flatly but mockingly, making me become painfully aware of my messed-up hair. “Do you think you could help me find theLibrarian?”

Eager to get the embarrassment over with, I don’t wait for him to give me the book. I take it from his hand, pull it through the system and give it back. “There you go,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.

He just keeps standing there, looking at me. “You do understand you have a class with me in fifteen minutes?”

Damn it. My eyes dart to the clock to make sure he’s not messing with me.

Collecting myself, I turn my eyes back onto him, forcing a relaxed tone of voice when I say, “Of course.” Then I smile. “Looking forward to it.”

I watch his eyes narrow, but he just gives me a nod, turns on his heel and saunters out of the Library.

As soon as he’s out the door, I start scrambling to get ready for class.

I manage to dart into B13 just before the clock strikes three. Somehow, despite still being disoriented from my afternoon nap, I’m carrying a paper cup filled to the brim with steaming hot, delicious coffee.

I get settled in and take a second to smell the coffee before I taste it, but it’s at that very moment that Bane walks in.

“Hello again, Novak,” he says as he closes the door behind him.

That’s how he’s been addressing me ever since he told me I was a lost cause.Novak. It’s with no words, just something between a nod and a shake of my head, that I acknowledge him.

Settling in behind his desk, he throws me a look, one eyebrow quirked. “So grumpy.”

“Not a morning person.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made three o’clock in the afternoon your morning.”

I don't say anything. I just throw him a smile, get the books out of my tote and finally take that first sip of coffee.

Within a matter of seconds, it’s special class as usual these days — mostly ignoring each other, me catching up on my homework while my ‘professor’ takes business calls and types away on his phone.

While it doesn’t exactly suit me — the fact that I’m getting no closer to being able to shift, Serra tells me I’ll be able to request a different professor no later than the start of the second term. In the meantime, this no-actual-communicating-with-the-asshole part is working out for me quite nicely.

Except for today, it seems.

Today I find myself questioning the whole arrangement, mostly because the mid-term exam is in less than twenty four hours and here I am, wasting precious time instead of using it to train.

It doesn’t help that I only seem to be able to focus on Bane — his scent, his voice, this very particular, deft way in which he spins the pencil around his fingers…

Annoyed with myself, I let out a frustrated sigh, put my feet up on my desk and aggressively flip the page of my book, catching a glance from his direction.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made myself comfortable like this and it’s not like we never even look at each other during these classes.

Today however, the glance instantly makes me excruciatingly aware of all my physical flaws all at once — my less-than-delicate arms, my persistent love handles, my thick thighs… It brings back unwanted memories of childhood playground cruelties. And even the later, non-playground ones.

It’s so uncomfortable that I can't help but lower my feet to the floor and bury my nose in my book.

It doesn’t help, making myself small like that. Because the next thing I know, there’s the image of Professor Ahearn’s assistant Ingrid popping into my mind — the thin blonde I’ve seen Bane flirting with on more than one occasion.

It’s all deeply unsettling, mostly because I’ve worked very hard to get where I am when it comes to body image. It’s been literal years since the last time I caught myself obsessing over how I look and how much I weigh.

That’s right, I think as it hits me. It can’t be a coincidence, that it’s happening on the same day he mocked me by calling me Sleeping Beauty.

Well, we can’t have that, now can we? Especially since it would be letting him ruin one of my favorite stories.

---