Page 46 of The Commons

Perhaps they’re like a puzzle, and the more tests I can pass, the more clues I can get to fit all the pieces together. Maybe the clues I need have been all around me all this time? Or what if not? What if I’m trapped? What if I don’t have what it takes to find my sister? What if I can’t figure this out? What’s going to happen to me? But even worse, what’s going to happen to my sister? What if she didn’t survive these tests? What if… she’s dead?

I feel a flush of heat rush through my head from my racing thoughts. Blood runs through my veins, causing my lips to jerk, so I take deep breaths to control my emotions, placing my hands on my mouth and coughing softly to cover it up. I really hope the Meaning Test can help me make sense of my thoughts. This test I have absolutely no preparation for.

Just as I take a deep breath, a shadow covers my gaze, jolting my steps. My gaze drifts up to see… Pesh. But before I can catch my breath, he speaks.

“Put on a sweater.”

My mind runs wild for a moment. “What?” I mutter, confused.

He turns to me with that charming smirk that could drown oceans. And just before I can exhale, he takes a step closer, the movement sending a rush of heat through every inch of my body. I tighten my fists, hurling my hands behind my back to stop its tremor. I’m… honestly so cold. But his presence is really hot… warm. Which is nice.

Then his voice whispers, so close, too close to my chest, my hair, my neck, my lips, my everything, “Do I need to say it again, Tavia?”

Tavia? No one has ever called me that. And… Why does it sound so alluring when he says it! “I…” I try to collect my thoughts. “You walk out on me, you don’t speak to me, except for two seconds and now you see me and you tell me to put on a sweater?” I just now realize my attire is not as dry as I thought. Well, I didn’t really wait for the recommended time, so I’m not sure what I expected. I just wanted to get out of there, fast.

His gaze diverts to the right as though scanning a Patron nearby. I look to check, but before I can, his hands grab my chin, pulling it back to him—up to his mountainous frame. And once again, I remember what he just said…

“And if I don’t... what will you do? Will you sentence me to detention?”

“I may just.” He smirks like he’s completely harmless, and I don’t realize when a smile escapes my lips. Then in one beat, he’s smiling again, not his face, his charming vainglorious eyes. “And pull down your skirt.”

“What else are you gonna tell me to do next? Take off my clothes?”

“No. I wouldn’t say that. I would just do that for you.”

I gulp as he steps closer, blocking my view completely—before I can see who’s approaching behind him.

“I don’t have my sweater with me. And moreover, what is the necessity of this?”

“The Patrons are watching you.”

“I… But my skirt is not improper.”

“I never said it was. It’s…” His breath quickens? Slows? Deepens? I can’t think straight. I just know it’s even deeper, even more husky, even more consuming, and I didn’t think it could be so. “It’s… incandescent.” His whisper drowns me completely, sinking my mind into an ocean repeatedly, and I can’t escape its addiction or stop myself from standing still under him, right where he wants me; listening to every word he says, craving every word he says like it’s the air I breathe.

“The way the panels of fabric fold on others is simply design, but on you, it is simply divine. It is a reflection of the way every breath in me folds at the sight of you.”

“I doubt that.”

“Don’t.”

A gulp rips through me. My body feels like it’s on a furnace. My legs draw back, and he draws closer until my hands are behind the pillars. My eyes jolt up to meet his, and still he continues in a moment that feels like a dream.

I should hide, but I can’t look away even if I tried. My entire being is on a spell, longing for his every word.

“One frivolous sight of your gaze is like catching a sight of the stars ablaze. One idle glance of your eyes is like looking at the firmaments across the celestial skies.”

He’s no longer talking about my attire. He’s talking about me?

“One trivial touch of your hands is like grazing fire, like catching oceans, like flicking past lightning, like catching a glimpse of gold in human form.”

What in the Commons heck was that? No. No. He must be playing me. What sick game is this? I have to stay alert, but my heart is burning, every part of me, and I can’t... breathe. What did Pesh just do to me? Not a single touch. And he has unraveled me.

“They’re not interested in me.” I can barely speak, hands tugging on my skirt from behind to pull it down.

“I’m interested.”

He draws close, my heart instantly racing.