Absently, you drum the tips of your fingers against your desk, the other hand holding your chin as Mr. Herbert drones on and on and on about history. While you sit beside someone older than his grandmother. As if the thought of her is a silent call to your eyes, they slowly travel to her desk next to yours.
Alice sits so very casually in her own seat, pale hand extended to rest by the edge of her desk. Her nails are dark and shiny, a black so deep they look like the very claws of the Void itself. Silver bands twinkle like stars as rings around her fingers, and you're caught in just observing this girl for minutes.
Until she wiggles those fingers and you instinctively glance up to see honey gold shining oh so warmly back at you. Your cheeks are lit aflame and Alice lifts an elegant eyebrow, cocking it coyly at you. Goddamn. You're kinda crazy about this chick, actually.
"You're ghost white," you murmur quietly and watch a certain fondness glint back at you from Alice's fanged smile. "Are you even more pale than other v-uhh...-" don't say vampire, don't say vagina, "-alentines?"
As if she considers this question for the first time in her life, Alice looks down at her own hand thoughtfully. A quiet moment passes before she very delicately shrugs. "Some. Edward is roughly the same. The others, not so much."
"Edward was sick and probably not out in the sun as much as the others when he was bit. Maybe you were sick, too?" you wonder aloud.
When she doesn't say anything immediately, you glance at Alice - worried that maybe you've offended her by bringing up her lost past. But she doesn't look offended. You can't tell how she looks, actually, but it feels... important. "You make it very difficult, Bella."
"Oh shit. Sorry," you say around a wince, not certain what exactly you're apologizing for. But yeah. You tend to make things harder than they need to be, so you probably do owe her an apology.
She smiles wistfully and shakes her head. Brushes the moment off, and you sigh in relief. Instead, she scoots to the edge of her chair and your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline when she takes your hand in hers to inspect.
"What do your hands say about you?" she ponders softly. You can only swallow hard as she turns your hand over, and drags her fingertips along the lines of your palm. "A complicated love life..." God, you really hope she can't hear your heart trying to decide if it's going to beat faster or stop altogether. "Ink that never seems to fully wash away from all that doodling you do with your pen..." Alice turns your hand over again, and her thumb gently brushes against your purple and red knuckles. "I saw you punch your locker this morning."
"Yeah, that hurt," you grumble and curse Mike in your head for startling you when you were trying to unlock the thing.
Alice glances up into your eyes and your breath catches. You're trapped, frozen in amber, while she leans in to ghost her lips across your knuckles. "Poor thing," she teases.
When the bell rings and everyone gets up, you're still rooted to your seat. Alice's tinkling laughter filters through the back of your mind, ever distant, as does the sight of her standing and collecting her books. She wiggles those fingers again in a silent farewell before your classmates swallow her up in their group as they leave.
"Miss Swan?" Mr. Herbert asks. You make some kind of noise. "Are you okay?"
"No...no, I never stood a chance. Oh my god."
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