NOTE TO READERS: Sorry this chapter took so long. Schools been keeping me extremely busy and my internet has been chanelling Satan...needless to say, fun stuff. Chp. 4 of Bruises will be coming up a couple of days after this one seeing as it's already written and my new series will be starting. Don't worry, Bruises will continue far past chp. 4. Also, I've switched the organization of the character P.O.V's ...the way I do it now is much easier and faster. I also think the story flows better. Enough of me, on to the story!
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Ryn looked at the clock warily for what seemed the umpteenth time. She had arrived at the public library around 5:00, hoping to look around for a bit before Deryck would arrive at 5:30. Now it was 5:56 and she had an armful of books she resolved to red that week and an increasingly short patience that was growing shorter with each passing second.
"I know I told him 5:30!" she murmured quietly to herself. "What in the world is keeping him?"
Putting down of book of Shakespearean sonnets, she twisted her head looking towards the front desk one more time. There was Deryck walking in with a confident saunter both incredibly hot and equally infuriating. Turning her head quickly she ran her hands or her jeans, nervously plucking at one of the small, worn holes at the thigh.
What am I doing? Ryn thought while outwardly groaning. She was acting like such a typical girl and she hated it. Never before had she felt the need to spend 5 minutes, never mind half an hour, picking out clothes to wear. And to the library no less! As a show of defiance for the odd feeling Deryck cast over her, Ryn pulled on her basic, black-framed glasses and rumpled her hair, destroying her careful 20-minute styling. Now she felt more normal. All of the sudden hands closed around her eyes. For a moment she was startled beyond belief, then she was angry.
"Hey!" Ryn protested. Deryck dropped his hands and walked around to face her.
Darn he looks good she thought, biting her lip. She was trying to work up some more indignation but she realized all she could concentrate on was the feeling of his hands, ones that were soft yet rough at the same time and smelled so much like him. A scent of soap and shampoo. Ryn shook her head, her cheeks aflame with these foolish thoughts.