"Cora." He called, eyes caressing my face in a way that I so badly wanted for his fingers to instead. "Tell me to stop."
I gulped, the words frozen on the tip of my tongue.
"Cora, tell me now." He repeated, growing more agitated as his gaze moved do...
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The dial tone sounded, a sharp ringing that travelled through the air as I waited for Lucy to answer the call.
"Hi Cora." She yawned into the phone.
I suppressed a smile. "Are you still in bed?"
The silence that I received was answer enough, and I burst out laughing. "Luce, it's 12 'o' clock in the afternoon.
Her sleepy voice responded. "I know. Way too early for me to be awake."
"That's not really what I meant." I said with amusement, shaking my head at how predictable she was.
I had lost count of how many times I had phoned her in the middle of the day to find that she was still half asleep. It was only a matter of time before I started to hear snores instead of words.
"Well when you're ready to wake up can you come over?" I asked, needing to catch up with her after the blur that was the last few days.
I had also left packing for Cornwall to what literally the last minute - the train was coming in five hours - and I knew that I would lose motivation if I didn't have someone to talk to while I did it.
"Sure. I'll be at yours in an hour." She replied.
A small smile slipped onto my face because I knew that couldn't be further from the truth. At best she'd be here three hours from now, but I humoured her and replied, "See you then," before ending the call.
I hummed to myself as I padded through my apartment, trying to decide what to do until she arrived.
My eyes found the sketchbook that was lying on the counter and I walked over to it, listening to the beaconing call of the smooth paper on the inside.
I bent to pick it up, knowing that one of the best ways to improve my own art was to study other people's. I smiled when I remembered the reason I knew that.
One of the only good things that had come out of the boarding school which I dedicated far too much of my life to was Edna, a school councillor of sorts. Although it wasn't her official title, she still took it upon herself to solve the problems of every pupil that came to her.
I wasn't one of those pupils, and probably would have never even spoken to her if she hadn't approached me first.
Having been an art teacher at her former school and noticing my passion for it, she taught me everything she knew, including the reason why I had this sketchbook in my hands.
