Chapter One

My feet throbbed from the long hours spent trudging between campus buildings. Orientation week was a nightmare of droning speeches, fried food, loud meaningless activities, and drunk people. I felt like crawling under the covers in my bed for the rest of the weekend. But Del, trying to hold me to my pact of being more social, gathered a small Friday night drinking party.

We planned to hit the dive around the corner, and they warned me hardly anyone got food beyond half-off fries after 9 pm. The cheap well drinks, some falling as low as a buck per cup of shame juice, were the real draw. Oh, and the owners utter disinterest in checking IDs.

A group of Del's colleagues from the mechanical engineering department would be there, along with some people I knew from creative design. Well, knew was a stretch. After Del walked me all the way up to my first class like some embarassing escort, two women pounced the moment he left. I knew what they wanted out of a friendship with me. I tried to tell myself I was used to it, but the bitterness beneath my breastbone swelled.

We exchanged enough words to form an acquaintance-like relationship. The two girls from my department overheard Del later that day on the phone and invited themselves. By the time time class ended forty minutes later, I was fuming and exhausted all at once.

None of it showed on my face, though. They stood on either side of me, so close I felt like screeching for personal space. I couldn't distinguish their chatter for real speech anymore. It all sounded like the teacher from Charlie Brown.

I picked up the pace upon spotting Del on the edge of the crowded university square. Tall, gothic style architecture rose behind him, befitting his image perfectly. He had his chin tilted back toward the sun, face glowing and fair white lashes casting shadows across his cheeks. The closer I got, the more distracted I noticed people around him to be, especially women. Some were bold enough to stop and stare, cheeks flushed red. 

 His hands never left his pockets where they pushed back his navy jacket, and tapered dress pants the color of sand hugged his muscular legs. Even the white shirt I saw him put on this morning was still in pristine condition. He looked older the eighteen, older than twenty-five, even. Wise. Aloof. Contemplative. The story he told made my fingers itch to pull out my tablet.

Instead, I took a mental picture and slipped between bodies while thankfully shaking off the clinging women. Del sensed my presence a beat before I could tug on him, turning to look down at me with a smile, grey eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Hey, did you make it through the day in one piece?" 

Del looked my five-foot-five frame up and down several times, checking for scuffs or lost possessions. For every spark of talent I harbored, a rational thought had to be sacrificed. At least, that's the way I framed it. Details and loose parts of me often slipped my mind and grasp. That's why my keys and badge were on a streching clip I moved from one pair of jeans to the next. The only thing I wasn't sure about was my phone... My phone...

I patted down my pants before lighting up and pulling my bag forward. When I unzipped the front pocket, a spaghetti ball of wires fell out, along with my wireless mouse. However, my phone lay on the very bottom just as a treasure would. I snatched it up and was about to kneel and grab my cords when Del stooped first.

"Wait! I got it!"

I dropped to my knees with a crack, scrambling to take the cords from his hand. In the process, my mouse juggled between fingers until it clattered to the concrete once more. People whispered and pointed, most likely wondering why a guy like Del was wasting his time on me. I had to agree, dropping my head with a sigh.

I clenched my fists in my lap to hide how sweaty they were, and my stomach twisted over itself. Why was I always such a fucking klutz? I opened my hands again and looked down at them, watching each finger shake with no way of controlling it.

I'd always been a slave to my emotions.

Del covered my fingers with his own, stopping them from trembling. The rushing in my ears paused to allow real sound back in. It was overwhleming. Laughter. Shouting. Whispers. People.

"Uri," Del called, snapping my focus back to him. "Take a deep breath and give me your bag, okay?"

Swallowing hard, I handed it over in defeat. He carefully wrapped each of my cords around his hand before stowing them in the pocket once more, plopping my mouse on top. No movement was laced with nervousness or uncertainty. I'd never seen Del be anything other than comfortable in his own skin.

Personal acceptance was a concept I envied. Something I wanted so badly I'd do anything to grasp it, but the reason I hated myself was the man who was always at my side. His kindness was like posion, seeping into the broken bits of me until I felt affection each time I looked at him. Burrowing into my marrow and settling like lead.

"There," Del said, zipping the pocket shut. "Now, are your knees okay? Why'd you fall like that? Geez."

I couldn't answer him past the tightness in my throat, so I stood up instead. He followed, hands out on either side of me like I was a baby walking for the first time. I huffed indignantly and snatched my bag back just as the girls caught up to us.

"Ah, you must be Del," the red head said, stepping forward to bat her lashes at him.

He barely glanced at her. "Call me Delton, please."

Despite the bare minimum of attention, the woman clutched at her chest. "I'm Farrah, and this is Elise."

As she spoke, Del fixed my skewed jacket, smoothed out my frenzied hair, and glanced down at my knees one last time with suspicion.

"Good to meet you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Farrah beamed. "Cute little Uri was so charming we wanted to keep the party going!"

When she uttered the word cute both of us flinched. In what world was a man cute? I scowled, and Del lost his easy smile. He knew how senstive I was about my height and feminine features. Both of which came from my mother.

Del sighed. "Oh? He was charming, was he?"

"Yes!" Elise chimed in, cheeks covered in freckles a rosy pink and blue eyes bright. "The way he spoke about fluidity and art theory was mesmerizing, honestly."

I was shocked at the genuine compliment and hid my blushing face behind the back of my hand. Complicated emotions fizzled through my veins, ranging from embarassment to quiet joy.

Del stood frozen beside me, arm brushing my with every breath. I wasn't sure what to say, so he had to be the one to talk. I cleared my throat, trying to signal him. He glanced over, doing a double take before registering my reaction.

His eyes widened, lips thinning and cheeks a shade paler than usual. Wait, why was he staring at me like that? My heart wrenched, and I instinctively reached out. At the same time, Del shook himself and turned back to the girls, stepping in front of me.

"I agree wholeheartedly, Uri is a talented artist with passion I'm envoius of..."

I rubbed both hands down the front of my flaming face. Elise saying it was one thing, but Del? That was too much even for me. I didn't know what to do with the buzzing energy in my chest.

"... But he's also not great with overwhelming social situations. You guys go on ahead. We'll catch up in ten minutes. The others should be there already."

Farrah pouted, but Elise nodded in understanding and pulled her friend away. Del wrapped an arm casually around my shoulders and strolled inside. We got as far as the secluded stair well before Del lost his composure.

He tugged me into his chest, holding my body tightly to decompress the nervous system. It was a technique my therapist taught us when Del insisted on joining a session to ask questions. I sighed, cheek falling to press against Del's broad shoulder. His cologne was the refreshing scent of bergamot orange. It felt like breathing in the will to live.

"I'm sorry," I whispered through a dry throat.

Del hugged me tighter. "Don't say that, you can't help the way your body reacts."

"That's exactly why I'm saying it."

We fell silent, at odds and unwilling to discuss it further here. With one last squeeze, I reluctantly pulled away. My breathing was normal and my heart wasn't about to explode. However, the pride from Del's praise remained. I scolded myself for feeling so giddy.

"Did you mean it?"

The question slipped out before I even knew I wanted fo say it. Talk about the cart before the horse! It was too late now though, so I casually leaned back against the wall which conveniently held up my weak body. Del followed, taking a step forward to invade my personal space without warning.

I didn't flinch or shrink, but my eyes must have reacted because he grinned. "Of course I did, and frankly, it kind of pisses me off that other people ard realizing it too. I want that part of you all to myself."

"Huh..?"

It was all I could think to say.

A renewed flush spread from my cheeks to ears, contrasting wildly with my dark hair. Del drank it in, crowding in further to lean a forearm up against the wall over my head. The warmth he instilled traveled the closer he came, and I wasn't sure I was comfortable with the way it made me feel.

"And that look on your face," he tsked, lips twisting. "Those women were so enamored with you that they followed you to drinks. How are you so popular, already? ... I thought this would be easier."

He clenched his jaw, working it back and forth as if restraining himself. First, my brain froze on the completely incorrect notion of those women being obsessed with me. Were we living two different scenarios? I think the fuck not. Elise may have complimented me but Farrah was interested in him.

I tilted my chin up, wetting my lips to speak, floating with the feeling of walking on the edge of a steep cliff.

"What would be easier?"

Del stared down at me, ivory hair falling in front of his honest, burning gaze.

"Ignoring my jealousy."