𝓚𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮

"Good morning, hermosa (beautiful)."

Xavier took his seat beside me in our English class and the first thing he did was place a kiss on my forehead.

I smiled in return. "Good morning."

His eyes lingered on my face for a moment longer before his eyebrows furrowed.

"¿Estás bien? (Are you ok?)", he asked and his hand came up to caress the back of my head. "You look tired, mi amor. (my love)."

He just called me, mi amor.

"I had a long night."

Something flashed in his eyes. "Did Charles -"

"No. No. I had some late-night documents to fill out. ANGELIX business." I chuckled a bit at what he thought. Charles definitely told Xavier about our date last night.

He sighed. "If you never need help, just ask ok?" My heart pinched at the concerned look in his eyes. Not to mention how extremely handsome he was looking this morning, well every morning. Every day really.

A part of me couldn't believe he was my boyfriend. Xavier Valdéz is my boyfriend.

Well, one of four.

"Kristine?"

"Hm? Oh . . ok. Thank you."

I realized that there were only the two of us here. We were both early birds apparently. The two of us just remained to stare at each other. I couldn't pin on what took hold of me. I urged to claim Xavier's lips with mine.

And what I want . . . I get.

Placing my hand on his jaw, I pressed my lips to his. I smiled into the kiss as he moved his lips along with mine and his hand moved to caress my cheek tenderly. When I detached our lips, I leaned back just enough to look at him.

"What was that for?", he asked, smiling.

I chuckled. "I can't kiss my boyfriend?"

Xavier smiled, his teeth showing as he looked down before looking back at me.

"You can anytime you want", he replied. This time it was he who leaned in first. I melted at the feeling of his warm lips on mine. When I pulled away, I laid my head on his chest and he wrapped a strong arm around me. "I won't complain if you did all the time", he mumbled in my hair and I smiled.

"I'm sure." I pecked his neck and just by that minor action, Xavier's body tensed and I smirked. When I started to lean in closer, I heard footsteps approaching and I pulled away from Xavier's hold.

At that second, the door pushed open and students started to enter the classroom.

Xavier raised a brow at me and I returned a small smirk before opening my notebook.

An hour later

It was a little harder to focus in my English class today. One thing is I'm a little drowsy from my lack of sleep last night. The second thing was I couldn't stop thinking about last night's vision. The third thing was Xavier's arm being pressed against mine throughout the entire lesson.

He just had to pull his chair closer to mine.

Not that I'm complaining.

Once I was done packing away my things, I wrapped my backpack straps onto my shoulders and stood up. When I tucked my chair under the desk, a strong arm wrapped around my waist.

"Library", he whispered into my ear. Then with that said, he was out of the room.

I wasn't entirely aware of the fact that I was holding my breath. The feeling of his arm wrapped around my waist . . . his hot breath against my ear . . . that time on the neck . . .

I breathed in deeply.

"Great, you die by the lack of oxygen . . . wait of course you die by the lack of oxygen! Not me, I mean like people or like anyone, in general, can die of the lack of oxygen. What am I even mumbling about?"

"Kristine?"

I whipped my head around to see my English teacher staring at me questioningly. "Uh . . . yes sir?"

"You're talking . . to yourself."

Of course, I was.

I laughed, awkwardly. Just nodding in understanding, I clicked my fingers and pointed up before making my point. "Library it is." I sprinted out of the class.

That's rude.

I jumped backwards and peaked my head in by the door just before it shut closed.

"Have a nice day sir."

❇❇❇

"Xavier?"

I walked into our usual lounge area in the library and Xavier was nowhere to be found. I felt a vibration in my blazer pocket and took out my phone. It was a text from Xavier.

TEXT

Xavier:

Second floor

With a small smile plastered on my lips, I made my way toward the library staircase. Once I made it onto the second floor, I walked around the unbelievably spacious area - searching for him.

Another text came in.

Xavier:

Romance.

Apparently, there were two romance sections in this library. One on the first floor and the other on the second.

I started to find my way to the romance section. It didn't take very long for me to come across a sheld that had 'Romance' written on a gold plate. Peaking my head into the aisle, I saw nobody. When I started to walk through the aisle, my eyes scanned the place in search of Xavier. In the process, admiring the rows of books that the high shelves held.

There is such beauty in books that some don't realise.

A gasp left my lips when I turned around and was suddenly pushed against the bookshelf. Xavier's hands were placed firmly on my waist, our chests were flushed against each other and our faces were only inches apart.

The second our eyes met, Xavier flashed me a grin before bending his head down. He seized my lips with his and instinctively my arms laced around his neck. He moved his lips on mine so expertly, that it's clear he's well experienced. He angled his face to have more access, his tongue sliding into my mouth. Xavier gathered me into the hard support of his body, slowly his tongue explored every inch of my mouth, making soft moans erupt from my throat.

It's like a scene in a teen romance movie.

We're making out in the library.

His lips slid away from mine and trailed fiery kisses down my neck, his teeth and tongue crossing over a sensitive spot that weakened my limbs with pleasure. I could feel a hand crawl up my bare leg, under my skirt and settle on my outer thigh. My fingers entwined his hair as one hand caressed down to his chest.

Xavier's hand came up to take hold of my hand and his thumb stroked my knuckles before he pressed his lips on mine gently. He pulled away seconds later to rest his forehead on mine and meet my eyes.

"It's so hard to control around you", he huffed.

"Same goes for you," I smirked and wrapped my fingers around his necktie. "I just pictured what I'll do to you with this." My dark gaze met his and he gulped deeply.

"Joder, no estás haciendo esto fácil en absolute. (Fuck, you're not making this easy at all.)", he groaned and tucked his face beside my temple as I chuckled.

"There are various options . . . blindfolding the eyes, tying down the hands and if you have a choking kink - ", I whispered into his ear until he roughly pushed me against the shelf, his fingers clawing at my skirt as he kept a firm hold on my hips. His heated gaze met mine and I smiled innocently.

"Those innocent eyes are really deceiving", he muttered with a small smirk.

"Good. They're doing their job." I ran my finger down his jaw.

Xavier chuckled. "Way too well."

We stood in silence, just appreciating each other's presence. Xavier's hand caressed mine here and then, kissing it tenderly after.

"I have about an hour till my next class. Would you like to read with me?", I asked.

"Of course", he answered with certainty.

"Any requests?"

He shared a soft smile before kissing my forehead. "Would you read me a poem?"

"Sure." I smiled and pushed myself off the shelf. "I'm sure there are poems in this aisle . . ."

Well only romance ones . . . .

"Do you read Shakespeare?", Xavier asked as he leaned his back against the shelf, his eyes focused on my figure while I searched for a book.

"I have a love for poetry and literature, so yes. Do you?"

"I've read a few."

"Which would you say is your favourite?" I glanced at him through the corner of my eye.

"It's hard to say . . . ."

"Let me guess. . ." I faced him with a knowing smile. "Romeo and Juliet?"

"How tragic . . ."

"It's a classic."

"Still tragic. Who would have known how much grief comes with love?" Xavier's look was impassive as he asked.

I tapped my fingers against the shelf. "We've known, just refused to accept it." With a nod, I looked away from Xavier and continued to search for a book. There was a short silence that fell between us until he spoke again.

"I would say Twelfth Night is my favourite."

"Oh, who would have known!", I replied sarcastically after a gasp.

Xavier chuckled. "You wouldn't."

"Oh? I wouldn't?"

"You wouldn't, you haven't read it", he replied confidently.

"What makes you think I haven't read it?" I glanced at him with eyebrows raised.

"Have you?"

"No", I answered and he grinned.

"You should."

"I will."

"Now. Let's read it together." Xavier walked off to find the book while I just stood there.

I've never read Twelfth Night, but I knew what it's about. Long story short, it's a romantic comedy but the major theme is Love as a Cause of Suffering.

❇❇❇

"Hi."

"Hi", Nicholas replied with a small smile. He sat down in his usual spot beside me and brought out his sketchbook. As he brought out his needed utensils, his arm brushed mine.

"He may be a little awkward at this relationship stuff . . .

But he can be very kind and caring."

"There are literally millions of girls who would kill to be with Nicholas Prince."

"But there's only one girl who he would kill to be with."

Whenever I see Nicholas now, I couldn't help but think about what the girls said.

It's not just that. Every time I see him, a million thoughts fill my head and it clouds everything. Every judgement. Every thought. Everything.

"Are you alright?" I heard him ask suddenly which pulled me out of my own mind.

"Perfectly awesome."

Crap.

I heard Nicholas chuckle softly before saying. "Good to hear."

50 minutes later

The best part of visual art class was when we got to paint, draw and sketch whatever we chose. It was when I allowed my imagination to run wild, but that's what art is. You use that creativity of yours and hope for an imaginative product.

Also, the best part was when I got to listen to music in art class.

Music helps me concentrate, think and to function in general.

All I saw in my head were butterflies, flowers and a clear blue sky. I could imagine myself being there and it feels so magical.

"It's looking good", Nicholas suddenly said as he took a look at my work.

"Thank you."

"You paint with no pencil lines?", he asked softly.

I shrugged. "Most of the time, no. Think of it as living. Lines mean you're being careful, I don't want to live that way."

Nicholas's eyes raised to meet mine and stopped. Everything did. Clear blue eyes like his could pierce through your soul. He searched for mine, finding the soul of a girl I buried alive. Deep inside. "You paint to live?", he asked more softly.

"Maybe. Or live to paint", I replied and placed my elbow on the table, leaning on it as I looked back at him directly in the eyes. "It's not my passion. But it is yours."

Nicholas's eyes hardened and I tried my best not to cower as he fixed his intensive gaze on me. His eyes softened the tiniest bit when he returned a sad smile and moved his attention back to his work.

"Which I hope you get to live", I mumbled, mostly to myself, "Nicholas Prince."

As I continued to paint, I couldn't help but notice Nicholas's glances every once in a while. I didn't expect him to say anything, but that's what he did.

"You're painting a garden?"

I nodded in response. "I'm hoping it is."

"Hoping?"

"I'm only painting the image in my head, in hopes it's real."

"What do you see?", he asked with his attention entirely on me now.

I could just say what I literally see, but I went for the metaphorical term.

"Magic."

"What?"

I turned to look him in the eyes. "I see a place, where there's beauty. Where there's beauty, there is magic." I smiled. "And I believe in everything, there is beauty." Reality check. "At least, I hope to believe that."

I say things that many never understand, but those that do . . . I thank you. I thank them all who saw possibilities. Those who considered the deeper meaning behind shallow words. When Nicholas gave me a rare smile of his that cleared all of my doubts, I could only say thank you in my mind and heart. To him.

"Then . . ." He fiddled with the pencil in his hand before looking back up at me. "I hope to believe the same thing."

When Nicholas's eyes gazed at mine, I took that chance to look at him, to really look at him. His eyes were a glassy shade of blue, like clear waters so deep you could drown in them. That's the thing, I think I am drowning. His eyes seized me and I was held captive.

"Have you ever watched the movie Peter Rabbit?", I asked him and that may have caught him off guard because he scrunched his face in confusion. "I just wanted to share with you a dream of mine. So? Have you?"

"No, I haven't."

"May I? Share this dream with you?", I breathed so softly.

"Of course", he said while staring at me with watchful eyes.

I clasped my lips together before smiling to myself. "In the movie, there's a local woman who spends her time painting pictures of this family of rabbits. She lives in this beautiful cottage in the countryside." I glanced at Nicholas and his eyes were focused on me as he paid close attention to every word. "Ever since I saw it, I wanted to come to England . . . just to find a place in the countryside . . . a small, cosy, little cottage. Maybe . . . with a dog even. I've always wanted one. Perhaps, I'll steal Prince." I chuckled. Glancing back at my painting, I smiled at the thought. "If I could have this garden transported there, I can just see myself. I can see me sitting outside with my sketchbook and a tea with tiny flowers in it just settled down beside me."

"Tiny . . . flowers in tea?", Nicholas asked questioningly with his eyebrows lowered.

"Hey, a girl can dream", I stated and Nicholas chuckled before nodding. "People do put flowers in their tea by the way, also in water."

"I can imagine you doing that", he said, "I really can", he mumbled.

"It's art. Art is everything and some don't realise it. Makeup for one is art, even in culinary", I said and Nicholas nodded.

"That's how I see everything. I never found someone who saw it the same way."

"Not all of us have an artistic eye, nor are open-minded", I replied, "Sorry, I don't know why . . . I just felt like sharing that dream with you. Maybe it's the painting. All these bizarre thoughts flow through my head the more I look at it."

"I'm glad you did", he replied and I returned a thankful smile. "So your future plan is to live in the English countryside?"

"Not live. Maybe just as a getaway. I've no plans on settling in one place. If I could . . I just want to go everywhere. Travel and explore different places."

"Where would you go first?"

I raised my shoulders before lowering them back down with a heavy sigh. "Anywhere."

When I didn't hear a reply from him, I looked back at him and found him looking at me, pondering with his fingers tapping the pencil against the table repeatedly. Only seconds later, the teacher announced it was the end of class.

"When's your next class?", Nicholas asked while I started packing away my things.

"3 o'clock", I answered, "Why?"

He stood up from his seat, his figure towering over mine. "I may as well take this chance", he mumbled, "Join me for lunch?"

Nicholas Prince, asking me out for lunch . . .

"I'd love to." I smiled as hooked a backpack strap onto my shoulder.

He smiled and honestly . . . he should smile more. I don't entirely know how to describe his smile in words, it's just that . . . . it's a smile you don't often see or earn. Once you see it, you feel blessed. You feel earned.

"There's a place I'd like to take you", he said and walked along with me out of class.

He's walking beside me.

He's walking next to me.

He's walking close enough for our shoulders to brush.

Oh my god, I mentally squealed.

It wasn't hard to notice the stares we received as we walked side by side. A rare sight I must say. The two of us walking together.

We walked down the hallway and all eyes were on us. Nicholas seemed to not mind it and I followed. Could it be because he's Nicholas Prince? An Elite?

Everyone paved the way for us.

Nicholas Prince with Kristine La Cartier.

. . . . . . . .

"That's a beautiful car", I complimented.

"Xavier tells me you know quite a lot about cars. What do you know about this one?", Nicholas asked.

"Not a lot", I mumble before saying, "It's . . . a Mercedes McLaren SLR white gold sports coupe. The car features a newly developed V10 quad-turbo with 1,600 horsepower and 2800nm of torque. It is said to be able to go from 0-100km/h in less than 2 seconds and can go a 1/4 mile in 6.89 seconds running on biofuel."

When I looked back at Nicholas, he was just staring at me with amusement covered across his handsome face.

"You're really impressive", he whispered more to himself than aloud, " How do you know so much about cars?", he asked.

"My father collects cars. Once I showed interest, he . . . taught me a thing or two."

"That's really impressive . . ." He brought out his car key from his blazer pocket and unlocked the car. When I reached my hand out for the door handle, Nicholas did as well and our hands touched.

Our eyes aligned and neither of us moved or spoke.

Other than the day we first met and shook hands, this is the first time I've felt his skin touch mine. It felt different. It felt new. I could feel sparks trickling across where he grazed and fireworks setting off from the start of my fingertips to my heart.

It felt like being ignited.

Nicholas was the first to look away. He clicked a button on the car key and the two doors automatically flew open. When he gestured for me to go in, I obliged.

❇❇❇

The car ride was silent and yes . . . it was awkward. To say there was tension between us, is there?

Whenever I glanced at him, I caught him glancing back at me.

Just taking in a deep breath, I walked beside Nicholas down the street. He stood close by my side as we walked past a few people. Once in a while, his arm would brush against mine and we would glance at each other before looking away. We did receive a few stares as we walked.

"Is that Nicholas Prince?"

"With . . . Kristine La Cartier?"

I could hear whispers and our names being mentioned as we walked by people.

"We're here", Nicholas told and I turned to my right to see a beautiful cafe. Just by looking at the floral decorated exterior, I could tell this would be one of my favourite places. It looked inviting. I loved the London-adorned door, the colours and the flowers.

"I love the exterior", I said.

"I knew you would." I could see a small smile lingering on his lips as he walked ahead and pushed open the