Cherreads

A Spark Between Us

Alaura90
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chs / week
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Synopsis
“Clara.” His voice cut through the noise of students, low and steady. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was Cyra. Even in the daylight, he’s a shadow… dark jacket, and even darker eyes. She keeps walking. “You’re making a mistake.” he calls, now right behind her. “Am I?” Clara mutters coldly. “Emor isn’t your fight.” His tone is calm but she can hear the warning in it. “It is now,” she answers without looking at him, her grip tightens on the textbooks that she has clenched to her chest. “He hurt her Cyra. And if no one else is going to stop him…” “You think you are?” She doesn’t answer, doesn’t have to. Her silence is sharper than words. He reaches for her arm, fingers wrapping around her wrist. The books slip from her arms and hit the stone pathway with a sharp thud. Neither move to pick them up. A blue spark snaps where his fingers touched her skin, a crackle that both of them are accustomed to by now—but her heart still skips at the contact. “Let go.” She demanded. “Not until you listen.” He steps closer, close enough for her to smell his cologne, fresh cut cedar wood and maple leaves. University students pass around them, but no one pays attention… they’re hidden in plain sight. She tilts her chin up, defiantly-still facing away from him.The wind sweeps between them, brushing her skirt against her legs. “You’re not ready for him,” Cyra murmurs, leaning in close, his breath barely louder than the wind. “—And you know it. She finally turns to face him. His guarded expression softens, just slightly, and the shift makes her chest tighten. That mask he wears, which keeps him untouchable, slips for a fraction of a second. “You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for.” Her necklace glimmers with a soft glow in the sunlight, catching Cyra’s gaze. His jaw tightens. He’s hiding something. “You’re scared of him,” she says softly. “I’m scared of what he’ll do to you,” he admits, voice low, dangerous. “What do you think the most powerful crime boss would do with a girl with powers? I’m afraid… for you!” Her pulse quickens. It’s rare to hear him speak with that kind of honesty, and seeing the cracks in his armor made her chest ache. She steps closer, their bodies nearly touching. “You think I don’t know who you are too? You’re a criminal. A liar. And yet…” She lets the words trail off, but her gaze stays on his. “And yet?” he prompts, voice a velvety whisper. “And yet I’m still asking for your help.” He studies her like he’s memorizing every flicker of her expression, every gust of wind that moves her hair. He reaches up, fingers brushing against her jaw as he tucks a strand behind her ear. The simple touch sends a shiver down her spine. “You shouldn’t trust me.” “I don’t.” Their words are sharp, but their voices are soft. The breeze swirls around them, making her hair whip like golden silk. He doesn’t let go of her wrist. Instead, his thumb strokes the pulse point there once, slow and deliberate. The spark between them sharper, almost sizzling. “Clara…” His voice is dark now, almost a growl. She leans in, lips so close to his that she can feel his breath against her skin. “You either help me or you’re against me too.” “This isn’t a game, Clara,” he says quietly. His eyes, dark and unreadable—hold hers like they’re both teetering on the edge of something neither of them asked for. For a split second, she thinks he’s going to kiss her, maybe drag her away against her will. Instead, he let’s her go. She exhales sharply, bending to pick up her books—then stops when she sees his expression shift. “Clara.” There’s a tension in his voice now, sharp and lethal. She straightens slowly, following his gaze. Students move obliviously around them. But Cyra’s jaw is tight, eyes fixed on something beyond the crowd. “They’re here.” *Warning: mild language, crime fighting scenes, sexually suggestive themes, no rape
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1. Beauty and Brains

"Clara?... Clara!", an aggravated voice barked— a hand smacked down on Clara's desk. She reluctantly lifted her head and glared at the brown eyed girl in front of her who so rudely interrupted her nap.

"You don't have to yell," Clara yawned and lifted her head reluctantly.

She reclined in her seat. She lifted her arms over her head and arched her back in a feline stretch.

Emily's hand was still on the desk as she leaned toward Clara, her dark loose curls littering the desk. She frowned at her unwavered friend.

"If you keep falling asleep in class you're going to fail", Emily scolded.

"Pffft! Please. This class is so easy, I could sleep every day for a month and still pass with an A", Clara scoffed coolly with a smile. She put both hands behind her head and melted even further in her seat, still smiling arrogantly.

"Well not everyone is a genius like you Clara, and if you get kicked out of school for sleeping, I won't have anyone to sneak answers from so get your butt up before we're late to our next class!"

Clara was a stickler to the rules for most things but when it came to academics she often found herself bored and understimulated. She had really hoped that the university studies would be as challenging as her high school teachers had warned her about but alas, two years later and she is still very much ahead of her classmates and still very bored.

"Ugh, fine I'll try to stay awake. It's not my fault that the history of literature is an absolute snore fest." Clara complained as she collected her things and started to walk out.

"True, but we're pretty lucky that we were able to snag two classes together this semester. And I love outdoor aerobics class, don't you!?" Emily bounced as she linked arms with her self proclaimed bestie.

"It's my absolute favorite class", Clara agreed. "But mostly because the instructor is cool and let's us chit-chat, … oh and she doesn't yell at me. That's always a plus."

The girls made their way to the field where the class was held but before stepping out into the bright, blinding sunlight, they stopped just at the end of the hall.

"Hold on Clair Bear, I need to change real quick. These high waisted-shorts and crop top are not exactly work out attire."

"I'll be right out here." Clara pointed straight ahead to a door at the end of the hall. A small glass window in the door revealed the inviting sunlight that called to her.

She patiently waited at the outside corridor to escape the horrid fluorescents and tight, buzzing halls. She leaned on the old stone building as she watched the students bustle about around her, the warm sun resting gently on her cheeks.

Clara had planned ahead and wore her athletic attire under her pink dress. She also admittedly thought that her dress looked much too pretty to waste on her boring history class. She chuckled and admired the pretty dress, thinking about how funny "wasting" an outfit sounded.

She was still looking down when a tall stranger dressed in all black passed through her lowered eyelashes.

A warm, earthy scent lingered in the air as he brushed through the crowded students. It smelled woodsy with a hint of spice, like fresh cut cedar and maple leaves.

She inhaled and a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, like tasting a warm bite of your favorite pie. Her eyes flashed up quickly as she tried to get a better glance of the face that belonged to the tasty smelling stranger, but she missed him by half a second. She watched the back of his black-haired head turn the corner just as Emily suddenly bounced in front of her, blocking her view.

"How does this look? Too slutty?"

Emily glanced at her friend who was spinning around in her sports-bra, lululemon leggings stretched over her mile long legs. Her rich brown curls were now up in a swinging ponytail.

Slutty was definitely a word someone might use to describe Emily, but Clara knew her much better than that. She was a romanticist. True, she has had plenty of boyfriends in her time, but her dearest Emily believes that you must kiss many frogs to find your prince.

"You look hot. Stunning actually, as usual… can we go now?" Clara answered quickly, peeking around Emily's shoulder to get one last look at the stranger but he was already gone.

She did, in fact look stunning, Emily always did. She looked like a model, even on her worst days. Both girls were blessed with this quality. The two of them were always looking for the next trend and their style changed seamlessly before a new fad emerged. This week is all about high waisted shorts, next week would be cropped pullovers.

"Not as hot as you! Women go under the knife to get the lips and jugs you were God gifted! You're literally a bombshell, babe—" Emily bragged as Clara rolled her eyes.

"—Really! And beyond beauty, you're like an actual genius, like when were you going to tell me that you were accepted to every single university you applied to?! We've been in school for almost two years and you never told me!"

When you're a busty blonde, no one takes you seriously. No one except Emily, who's had her back since grade school.

Clara shrugged as she tied up her long golden hair. "It didn't matter. I wanted to go wherever you went."

Emily sighed in defeat but smiled.

Emily pulled out her yoga mat and began the warm up streatches while Clara gracefully removed her dress revealing biker shorts and sports tank.

The instructor was a short, fit woman in her early 30's. "Today we are going to do high-intensity interval training" she said to the students.

"Nevermind. I hate this class too." Clara mumbled.

After an intense workout and some complaining, the class was over and the girls stood from their mats.

"See you all next week!" The aerobics instructor called out to the class.

They both rolled up their mats and stuffed it in their bags. Clara pulled her dress back over her workout shorts and let her hair down.

"I'll call you later" Clara called as they were departing to their separate classes. Clara wouldn't see Emily again until the next day.

Clara shoved a stray golden strand of hair behind her ear and placed an earphone in it. She walked quietly to another class she enjoyed, computer coding. As the music dosed her with warm serotonin she felt effervescent walking into class.

She sat down and crossed her perfectly lean legs, the thought of the quick encounter with the dark haired stranger popped back into her mind vaguely. She leaned a hand on her pink, soft cheek. She put her pinky to her lip. And if by sole will power, a head of dark hair passed through the threshold. She slowly removed the earphone.

"You gotta be shitting me."