We Are Young

Chapter 11

Arabella pov:

Dimitri and I are sitting at our usual table for history class. And like Helios did when we had math, he laid my foot on his thighs. His touch feels equally comfortable, but diffrent at the same time. His touch is more gentle, not that Helios was rough but Dimitris touch makes me feel fragile. It's like he thinks that I would break into pieces if he touches me a litlle harder.

The teacher has yet to come so I take an ink pen and start drawing on my hand. When I was finished with a small heart, Dimitri glared at me and spoke up.

"Stop, drawing on your hand малышка. It's bad for you." he says. (Babygirl)

I always draw on my hand and never has something happend, he is overreating.

"I-It's not t-that bad." I tell him and am about to start to draw a flower, when he suddendly takes the pen out of my hand.

Why is he doing that?

" I said stop. And why would you do something that is not good for you? You are right that it is not that bad to draw on your skin, but ink is minimally toxic and it can cause you a mild upset stomach or stained skin if ingested." he explained.

(A/N: I took the information from google)

I know it is childish but I still want to draw on my skin, he can't tell me what to do or what not. So I grab a new pen from my bag and begin to draw on my hand once again.

It only took one small circle on my hand for Dimitri to take my pen away once again.

I look at him to see him glaring at me.

"G-Give me m-my pens b-back!" I demand but because of my stuttering it sounds like a plead.

He chuckles in return.

"I will give you back your pens when you decide to draw on a paper." he says and grabs a paper and hands it to me.

I glare at him or try to. It's hard to glare at someone you find attractive. I think to myself.

But he only chuckles again and places the paper in front of me.

I saw more and more students as well as the teacher stride into the room. So I chose not to cause a scene and take the pens he was holding from his hand and draw on the paper.

I am still a little bit mad at him, better said try to stay mad it him. That's why I lift my foot of his thighs and placing it on the ground. It hurts a little bit. But I want to show him that he can't tell me what to do. I know I am being a brat right now and I don't now where I found the courage to just do it. I guess I trust him.

When he acknowledges that my foot isn't resting on his thighs any longer, he starts to glare at me again. It's not a angry glare rather a annoyed and at the same time a playfull glare.

Without saying anything he just takes my leg into his hands and places it on his thigh again. This time holding it with a litlle bit more preassure. I guess he don't wants me to take my foot away again.

Why does he care to have my foot on his thigh? He must pity me after what happend yesterday. Maybe he and the others think I am a freak and just take pity on me. No, that can't be, can it? They are nice to me. They don't pity me. Or at least I hope so.

I feel myself stiffening a bit, thanks to my overthinking. And Dimitri notices it too.

A few seconds later, he hands me quietly a small letter.

You okay? It says.

I nod my head. And look at the teacher again.

I don't think he really believes me, but I don't care right now.

After an hour, class finally ends. After  Dimitri asked me if I was okay, I avoided looking at him. Luckily we were told to read in our history book. So I wasn't forced to interact with him. I felt bad for him, but I really couldn't stop my overthinking. It just takes over sometime.

Dimitri stands up and softly places my foot on the floor. Taking both our bags and handing me my crutches. He and the others weren't keen on the idea of me walking by my self. But after math I ensured them that it was okay and that they don't need to carrie me. It makes me feel uncomfortable and like I would take adventage of my situation. I know that it is stupid to think that, since they were offering, but it still feels wrong and catches manys attention.

Without a word we left the classroom walking to our lockers.

I hope he isn't angry with me. Why can't I stop overthinking.

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(A/N: Hope you enjoyed! By the way thanks for all of you for reading and voting for this story :)).