Story+for+June+1st+ 

__Chapter 4__ He stood swiftly and then turned slowly, his eyes angry, but when he saw that it was me, they became surprised, before changing swiftly to suspicious. He walked slowly forward with his arms crossed over his chest, as if he expected me to attack him. I walked forward nervously, self-conscious, and opened the little door, not looking at him. I slid the food through the little hole on to the small table that stood there. I took a step back and waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, for him to speak, for him to move, any sign of reaction from him.

There was nothing for a couple of minutes, but then he sighed softly and relaxed a little. “I suppose you think I’m being harsh on you.” His voice as soft and as beautiful as I remembered, “What with you not being part of this whole business” he waved his arms to indicated that he meant his current situation. “Kind of.” I muttered, but before he could say anything else I added, “but I can see where your coming from with the whole ‘I hate you because you’re here’ thing.” He looked at me surprised. “Really? I expected you to remain stubborn and say that I was being unjust or something and give me a whole speech, with arm waving and facts and figures and the like.” I narrowed my eyes. “No offence” he added, as if that stopped it from offending me. “Oh well that’s alright then, if you mean ‘no offense’, because that stops //everything// from being offending.” I responded in a burst of aggravated, sarcastic confidence. He looked at me curiously and then smiled gently, one side of his mouth pulling up higher than the other. “I apologise for upsetting you.” He said courteously in a quiet voice with a hint of amusement, hidden behind his regretful tone, but which shone gently from his eyes. I lowered my eyes to my scruffy boots, examining my toes poking out of the holes at the front. I could feel his eyes on me, which set me off blushing. I heard him chuckle again at my red cheeks which made me frown and lift my eyes of my wrecked Uggs and onto the irritatingly stunning person in front of me.

“Why are you laughing at me?” I said, without as much conviction and frustration in my tone as I would have liked. It would have passed as an irritated question if it wasn’t for the little smile that had appeared on my face when he chuckled. He grinned that stupid crooked grin and said “You know, I usually don’t go into the whole angry teenager lark, I’m usually quite mild tempered.” completely ignoring my question. There was something about the way he said it though, that made me think that he was actually sorry and not just saying it so I wouldn’t put cyanide in his food.

I voiced my last thought aloud and he laughed quietly, but stared into my eyes cautiously, making sure I was joking about the cyanide. I smiled at him to reassure him and looked down embarrassed when he grinned back and laughed again. Even though I suspected he was laughing at me, I wanted to hear him laugh again. I wasn’t sure what to say so I just stood there, staring and he did exactly the same. We were still standing there staring at each other, lost in thought, when I heard my dad shouting at someone in the hallway just outside the kitchen. I closed and locked the little door quickly and dashed up the stairs, swiftly shutting the door and skidding across the kitchen to turn the kettle on and then flop down in a chair. I heard the door open behind me, but I pretended to be lost in the book I had grabbed out of my bag earlier. My heart was racing, scared that my dad would know that I had been down into the cell room and had spoken to the prisoner. It occurred to me while my head was spinning with worry that I had yet to ask the boy his name. I made a mental note to do so next time I could make an excuse to go down there.