Serpent's Deceit (Entry 001)

 Sliding the last book in its place, I check over the row one more time to see if everything is in order. It is. Satisfied, I climb down the ladder and check the shelves this time. Yup, all good.

“Ms. Adams. I am done. Can I—” My words die in my throat as I turn around to find an empty library. 

It’s late afternoon, so no one bothers to pay a visit at this hour. That is kind of the reason why I love working at this time. The serene atmosphere of the library along with the soft glow of the golden hour feels nostalgic. The library is comparatively new. It is just my wild imagination that makes it feel like an ancient one. 

Maybe I should stop reading those fantasy novels.

Shaking my head to myself, I turn around to push the ladder back to its place. With a low and smooth rumbling sound, it slides over the track back to the end of the row. 

Yes, we have got a rolling ladder in our school library. Thanks to Ms. Adams, our incredible librarian who has managed to manipulate our principal for this pretty thing. And thanks to me for manipulating her before that.

Making sure that everything is in its place and I do not have anything else left to do, I take my phone and the books I’m taking home with me for the week and exit the library. Ms. Adams is not here meaning she is in the detention room. She is our detention teacher as well, besides being our librarian.

The detention room is on the ground floor and the library on the top one. The building is five stories. Our principal believes that the students are young and we need to be fit. If she inserts an elevator, it will harm our fitness. So, yeah, I have to climb up and down the stairs daily for my library duty.

It takes a bit more than three minutes on an average day and a bit less if I’m in a hurry to climb down the stairs. Well, I probably need to exercise but how am I not already doing that by climbing all these things?

As the last bell has rung a long time ago, there are not many people in the school right now. Those who stay are mostly for practices, like the athletes and the cheerleaders. They are either in the ground or in the gymnasium. So the school building is basically empty.

After stepping out of the last stair, I turn to my left. At the end of this corridor is the detention room. I love this corridor, obviously not for the detention room. This is at the back of the school building. We have a mini botanical garden in the back which can be seen with a better view from this corridor. I have so many pictures just from here. 

The door of the detention room is shut from the outside. Is she not here? She has not left the school, never does until I do. Then where is she? Should I check the room just in case?

Eyeing the corridor that I have just walked down one time to see if she is coming back, I am met with silence. Making up my mind, I twist open the door and push it inside. 

I have come here before, not for detention, mostly for finding Ms. Adams and for ‘bailing out’ another human being. The room looks more like one from a delinquent school. Well, that might be because most of the time the delinquents of the school get detention. The walls are of faded colours and scribblings and writings with spray paint cover most of them. The glass of the windows is broken. The furniture here looks more suitable for a storage room. 

As I expected, Ms. Adams isn’t here. But I find the human I ‘bail out’ at the end of the room, sleeping peacefully on the torn couch. Another delinquent—my delinquent. His long legs hang from the armrest, clad in the infamous black outfit that has been with him ever since I have seen him. His leather jacket is draped over his face. His dark hair sticks out messily from beneath it, curling slightly at the ends. Of course, I find him here. 

Keeping the things in my hands on a table, I cross the room soundlessly. Standing before him, I watch him for a second. There is not much to watch. His face and the upper part of his body are underneath the jacket. His chest rises and falls steadily, the kind of peace he hardly gets and does not let anyone have either when he is awake. It is peaceful like this but I cannot let this go on.

Grabbing the jacket, I throw it away in one swift motion. His pretty face and forehead covering hair come into my view. Ever heard of the phrase ‘sun-kissed face’? He has got one. On top of that, the sun is still kissing him, coming through the window on his other side. I realize that he had the jacket on his face to prevent that from happening. Such a loyal partner I have got.

Pulling out my phone, I snap a picture quickly and save it to the folder called ‘My sleeping beauty’. It sounds corny but you will understand once you have seen him sleeping. He looks like the male version of Sleeping Beauty.

He furrows at the harsh light of the sun, his long lashes fluttering. He winces, squinting once, twice before his eyes finally blink open and they focus on me. His irises are the colour of sea glass, somewhere between green and blue. With the sunlight hitting at the right angle, they appear more like glasses now, reflecting the light. His brows pull together closely as confusion flashes over his face.

“Why are you here, your highness?” he asks in confusion, voice hoarse with sleep which has an inappropriate effect on me. Both the nickname and the depth of his tone. He calls me ‘your highness’ affectionately. That is a troublesome nickname to use on a daily basis when there are people who call me only using a letter. But he likes it and that nickname does something to me at certain times.

I clear my throat. “The more important question is why you are here again.”

“Eh, you know that already.” He scratches the back of his head before stretching and sitting up. Throwing his legs to my side, he turns to face me. I step back to give him space. He notices me stepping back and flashes me a mischievous smile. I know what is coming next. But before I can act on it or even get a word out, he reaches for my hand and yanks it. 

I am already straddling him when the protesting words finally leave my mouth. “Wait, no! Dax, wait. We can't—” 

My words get replaced with the moan that leaves my mouth involuntarily because he has already buried his face in my neck. The feeling of his nose and lips rubbing against my skin makes me shiver. He wraps his hands tightly around my back preventing any chances of escaping. I feel him taking a deep breath.

“Mhm, I missed you.” His low voice vibrates against my skin. Another shiver runs down my spine. His hands start to shift, sliding down my back slowly. 

“Dax, stop. Not here.” My voice comes out as a breathless whimper as I try to push at his chest. His hold only gets tighter as he clings to me more. I feel the horrible urge to surrender and return his energy. His lips are brushing my jaw now, and each press feels so warm and soft. How can I not give in to them?

My eyes flutter open. No, I absolutely cannot give in to them now. It will lead both of us to an offense and punishable crime. I have to get him out of here too.

I push one of my legs down the side and stomp on his foot putting extra pressure on my heel. He flinches, hissing in pain and his hands loosen around me. I take the chance to push him back and stand up. He rubs his foot and I make sure to step a couple of steps back meanwhile.

As he looks up, throwing a glare at me, I flash him a wide smile. “Let's get you out of here before—”

“Before what, Miss Garcia?” That is Ms. Adams, standing somewhere behind me. She has returned. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, both anxious and relieved, anxious because she has heard me and can easily predict what I am about to say next which might not be the best thing, and relieved because she might have caught us in the act if she came here one second ago.

“Miss Garcia, I—” My words get caught in my throat as I turn around to face her and my eyes go to the person she is grabbing by the collar. I'm pretty sure I'm frowning at him with a “Now what did you do?” look while he's staring at me with eyes as wide as saucers. Why the hell is he surprised to see me?

“Noah?”

“T?” 

We both speak at the same time. That idiot is my friend, Noah Anderson. He opens his mouth but Ms. Adams pushes him forward. He stumbles before gaining balance. In the process, he has come closer to me and I notice his busted lips. Did he get into a fight? Or did someone beat him?

“Mr. Anderson won't leave until one of his parents is here,” Ms. Adams announces to which Noah gasps dramatically before moving towards her. I am sure he is about to grab her hands, or even her legs, and beg for mercy. But she gestures to him to pause before he takes another step. Damn, what have you gotten yourself into, Noah?

She turns her attention to me with a questioning look and I remember she has asked me something. Clearing my throat, I try explaining, “I was about to leave. So, I thought about telling you before leaving. You weren't in the library. So, I came here.”

She stares at me with an unreadable expression and I hold my breath. A second later, she shrugs moving behind the teacher's desk and placing her phone, purse, and keys on top of it. “If you're finished for the day, you may leave.”

That's a dismissive tone and definitely not a good sign. She knows I am here for Dax too and she has not said anything about taking him with me. I glance at my human being over my shoulder. He has slipped on his jacket and is now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His eyes are keen enough to spark a flame inside me when they meet mine. 

“Mr. Miller won't be coming with you today. He's here for a punishable behavior,” Ms. Adams announces, definitely noticing me eyeing him obscenely. With a flushed face, I turn my head to look back at her.

I try to work up my brain to find any excuses that will work for him this time. It is almost a daily activity for me nowadays. I probably should make a list of unique excuses that would work and use them one by one every day. 

Ms. Adams also knows what is coming. She makes a shooing gesture with her hand. “Don't say it. I don't—”

“Ms. Adams,” I call her, abruptly stopping her mid-sentence because an excuse has come into my mind. I'm not sure if it will work. She furrows, visibly annoyed with me. I take a breath. The shits I have to pull because of him!

“We need to go to the hospital. His…..cousin got sick all of a sudden.” I seriously do not think that Ms. Adams will buy my pathetic excuse. My eyes catch sight of Noah who is leaning on the wall a little to her left, just out of her range of sight, and laughing silently at my excuse. I give him a glare to shut him down which seems to fuel his laughter. Such an annoying creature! When I get my hands on him, he is getting another series of beatings from me.

“Hm, interesting. Shouldn't they call the school for that if they need him there? Why inform you?” she demands with a scrutinizing gaze, definitely not buying it. I gulp. 

“Maybe they were busy,” I reply meekly. She hums in reply, getting lost in her thoughts. A few moments pass in silence. Just as I think she is about to shoo me away again, she says, “Okay, take him with you.”

I have to physically restrain myself from gaping at her because the surprise is too real. She actually agrees to it. I am not an idiot to question it. Silently, I glance back at Dax to find him on his feet already. As I walk to the door with him following me, I hear Noah whining. “T! Take me with you too!”

Ms. Adams snaps at him as I turn. “As I said, Mr. Anderson, you are not to leave before one of your parents meets me.”

She is facing him with her back to us. Noah can see me over her shoulder. He is giving me a pleading look, trying his best to imitate puppy eyes. I stuck out my tongue. Satisfied with his glare, I walk out of the room. 

We step into the empty hallway. This place is always cold for some reason, possibly suited for a detention room. On top of that, the afternoon air is chilly enough to give me goosebumps.

The coldness is overpowered by a warmth I feel sneaking around my waist. The other side is pressed against his warm chest. The hand around my waist is sneaky as it is trying to travel upwards near my breastbone. Obviously, that touch sends a spark through me but I grip the hand before it can cause something obscene.

Gripping it with the other one tightly so it does not escape, I bring it down slowly. But I do not push him away from me. I'm gonna keep the warmth. There is nothing wrong with it.

In response, he grunts annoyingly. I turn my head up to look him in the eye. There is a hidden wildness in them telling me that he is not pleased because I am restraining him. Flashing my teeth, I promise him, “Let's take you home first before you find yourself in another trouble.”