"Did I just get dissed?" I mumbled to myself, frowning and restraining myself from crying out cuss words—tears as the cherry on the top.

"Why did he become so mean?" I asked myself, answering a question that should be answered by Asher himself.

I crumpled a piece of paper, that was completely not wrinkled and new. I gritted my teeth as I did that, throwing the crumple of paper into the trash bin furiously.

All of a sudden, my breaths became fast-paced and short. My throat turned dry and I couldn't seem to gulp. I felt as if air were gone, I couldn't breathe. I felt as if I were choking on nothing, but it felt really uncomfortable. I didn't notice that tears came seeping out and strolled down my cheeks.

I broke down entirely, enduring a stinging pain right in my heart. Small crystal beads that had crept out of my eyes, one after another, soon turned into a flowing stream of sorrow that ran down my face and dripped from my chin into my shirt.

"I hate you, Asher!" I cried out in utter sorrow, falling on my knees.

Fortunately, I was acting all emotional in my dorm. There's a large possibility that I was disturbing my dorm neighbours with my sharp cries, but I couldn't sustain it.

Did I forget about someone?

Peter. I had used to like him, but I was enchanted by Asher's spell.

"Jerk."

***

I could hear a few knocks on the door, soft and cautious. But, I remained under the sheets of my woollen blanket, a forest green one to be exact. I fidgeted under the sheets, adjusting to a more comfortable position.

"Taylor?" The voice outside asked, knocking the door a few times. I was too lethargic to answer the door, so I remained as still as a statue and as quiet as an owl.

"It's Peter." The voice introduced himself, causing me to rise from the bed abruptly.

I looked at a mirror placed near me, examining my look. My hazel hair somehow wrapped itself into a bird's net and I had dark circles under my orbs. I patted my hair, trying to make it look quite decent. I got out of the bed and skittered towards the door. I turned the door knob and opened it slightly.

"What?" I mumbled out, still half-asleep.

Contrasted to me, he looked decent and dapper. His brown hair reflected the morning sunshine, his ocean orbs glimmered like stars, and he wore a chic outfit—a denim shirt and a pair of white pants. He gave me a warm smile and asked me, "What happened to you, Taylor?"

"Why are you here?" I asked him.

"Honestly...Damien told me." He admitted, looking away.

"Hold on, he knows who you are?" I murmured out in confusion.

Peter scratched the back of his neck and said, "Yeah we've never really officially met before."

However, it didn't sound sincere. That's right, he had already known him because they were in the same high school after all. But, they had never met or talked before.

"Ah...yeah. So, why did Damien tell you I am here?" I asked him, lifting an eyebrow.

He sighed and said, "You've been here for days and you haven't come out at all to classes."

"I don't need to." I told him.

"What?" He responded in confusion. "Why?"

"I called in sick, no school can force an ill student to attend classes. As the school knows, I'm very ill." I sarcastically told him, somehow venting my anger slightly.

"Well...can I come in? It's awkward standing out here." He said, looking around.

"Are you sure? You might get infected by my illness." I doubted his words, still venting my emotions.

He smirked and said, "I'll take my chances."

I opened the door widely and stood by the side, saying, "Then, come in."

He nodded his head and walked in my dorm, standing up wanderingly. I shut the door behind me and said, "Make yourself comfortable."

He walked over to my desk and pulled out the swivel chair, sitting in it and spinning all around. Meanwhile, I sat on my bed, fiddling with my fingers. He said, "Your dorm is so spacious...and empty."

"Yeah, Kylie isn't here anymore." I told him, looking down.

He stopped spinning around and looked at me with pity, he said, "Yes, I heard. At least she's got her life on track."

"Yeah..." I sighed deeply. All of a sudden, my nose tingled and I had an urge to...sneeze! I sneezed, shocking Peter.

"I guess I really do have a cold." I muttered under my breath, lies bite back after all.

He stood up from the chair, releasing a grunt. He walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. What was he doing?

I skittered towards the door and placed my ear on the door, listening to his actions. I mumbled, "Peter, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer, but I heard the tap running in there. I didn't know what he was doing in there, but I shouldn't enter. I asked again, "Peter, what are you doing?"

Once again, he didn't answer my question—causing me to get antsy and anxious. This time, I heard him going through the bathroom things and the tap was still running. What could he do in there?

He might be checking my personal things, or he could be...? I didn't know, but I didn't want to barge into the bathroom. All of a sudden, the door swung open from the inside and I yelled in surprise, "Ahhh!"

In shock, he yelled, "Ahhh!"

I stumbled backwards, collapsing onto the floor. I winced in pain as my elbows hit the floor, as well as my arse. I looked up to Peter whom was eyeing me with his eyes widened in shock and his mouth gaped open. I scoffed, "What were you doing in there?"

"Well, I was trying to gather some things together...for your cold." He explained, giving me a hand. Still annoyed, I accepted his hand and he pulled me up.

"But, you should've answered me when I asked you what you were doing." I scolded him, folding my arms and looking away.

"Y'know, you're loud." He told me. My head shot back at his direction, shooting him daggers with my fierce glare. But, he chuckled instead and said, "Sit."

"What?" I hissed, annoyed with him.

He sighed and grabbed my shoulders, pushing me onto the bed. But, I wasn't sitting at all. I was pushed against the bed, lying down with him facing me from above. His hands were pushing my wrists against the sheets, holding me in place.

I widened my eyes in utter shock, stiffened in that position. Our bodies were merely a few inches away, but our noses were only an inch away. His blue orbs bored into mine, eyeing me cautiously. He whispered, "Try listening to me for once, before I act up."

I eyed him back and blinked my eyes. I was too shocked to respond, completely frozen. He smiled and said, "I'll take that as a yes."

He pulled himself up and went into the bathroom again, but not shutting the door. Soon, he came out with a small and wet towel and placed it over my nose. It was steamily warm, unclogging my nose. I mumbled, "Thanks."

He smirked and said, "It wouldn't have been a big deal, if you had just stayed still and obedient."

"For your information, I'm not a pet dog." I hissed back, gaining a chuckle from him. I abruptly rose from the bed, sitting on the bed with my hand holding the towel tightly. He sat next to me, giving a small bounce on the bed. His fingers ran through his brown hair, slightly dishevelling it.

Looking away, he asked me, "What happened to you, Taylor?"

I remained still and silent, not bearing to answer his question. My heart still ached in pain, making me even more hesitant to tell him. Unknowingly, a tiny drop of tear escaped my eye. I put away the towel from the face, wiping off the tear. I said, "I don't want to talk about it."

This time, he turned his attention to me and eyed me with his apologetic eyes—full of pity and sadness. He said, "You can't bury the problem forever."

"Well, not forever," I told him, still hesitant. "What? You've got the key to the problem?"

"Maybe, if you would tell me." He told me, persuading me to tell him.

"What's the percent of success?" I asked him in a more humouring tone.

"Hmm, I don't know...I've got people that said I was a good person to talk to. So, I guess ninety-nine percent?" He said, pursing his lips and furrowing his eyebrows.

I laughed at him and said, "Your confidence is overwhelming."

"Well, your instinct to open up is petty." He teased me.

"Your petty attempt to persuade me to tell you is pathetic." I shot back, sticking out my tongue.

"Alright, alright. Just tell me once, please?" He begged me, pleading me with his puppy eyes.

"What's with the puppy eyes?" I muttered under my breath as I rolled my eyes. "It's not like it's a happy thing to talk about."

"I'll be very happy if you tell me, regardless of the fact that it may be pleasant or awful." He told me with a smile.

"What? Why?" I protested in response, drowned in confusion.

He chuckled and smiled by himself, he said, "Because...it means that you trust me more than anyone. Telling me your worries, incidents, and thoughts makes me feel like an umbrella that prevents you from getting wet—so, don't push me away."

I didn't respond to his words, just listening it thoroughly. But, he continued on his own, "Sometimes, it felt uneasy that you have your eyes on someone else, but I can endure it but I'll be protective."

"Like my own elder brother, I get it." I told him, smiling.

But, his face expression was sour and frowning. He said, "Taylor, I'm not saying this as your elder brother. I'm saying this as a guy."

I stayed silent, receiving all of these overwhelming words, declarations to be exact. I should be happy when I still had my eyes on Peter, but I didn't feel anything this time. My feelings somehow switched to Asher, the one true love.

I told him, "Peter, I'm sorry...but I think my source of depression can affect you-"

"Because it's Asher, right?" He finished my sentence, frowning. His eyes hinted sadness and emptiness, make me worry.

I merely tilted my head down, not bearing to look at him in the eye. He continued, "I know that, I know why you broke down. I was there all the time."

I was curious, but I didn't say a word. He continued, "That kid kissed you, right? Then, he denied his feelings and said that the kiss meant nothing."

"How...did you know?" I asked him.

He forced a smirk and said, "Didn't I tell you already? I was there all the time. I was there when you told Damien about the kiss and I was there when Asher told you to get lost."

"You were there...all along?" I mumbled, gaining a nod from him.

"I am always there, always." He told me.

I frowned at him, feeling guilty. I said, "I'm sorry, Peter. I can't make you feel fine or grand, anything that comes from will just hurt you."

"I figured, but I don't care. I'm planning to move on anyway, I was never your perfect fit." He told me.

"Peter..." I murmured guiltily.

A forced smile curved his lips and his lips worded, "It's okay."

"But...you're welcomed to come to my Christmas feast." I suggested, trying to lighten up the mood.

His forced smile turned into a genuine smile, causing me to smile back. He said, "I still can go?"

"Your family won't miss you?" I asked him, looking for approval.

He chuckled and said, "Nah, my family's tired of seeing me every year. They're good with it."

I laughed in response, finally feeling that depression fading away slightly. I didn't love him, but he was still my umbrella.

"What's the dress code?" He asked me with a pair of curved lips.

"Anything that spreads the christmas spirit." I told him.

"Should I bring anything?" He asked me again.

"Nah, just your body and an christmas ornament." I answered him.

He lifted his eyebrow in confusion and said, "A christmas ornament?"

"Ah...it's a family tradition only the Peaksons does. There will be a christmas tree, but it has no ornaments. So, we invite guests to bring a significant ornament and hang it on our tree." I explained, somehow feeling happier imagining the atmosphere.

"That's fascinating," He murmured in response. "I'll make sure to bring a special one."

Before I could respond, my cellphone rang from the other corner of the room. I walked towards it and answered the phone, "Hello?"

"Taylor, I have a great news!" The voice said, sounding like Nana.

"Nana?" I murmured in response.

"Of course it's me! Why can't you recognise your own grandmother's voice?" She yelled on the phone, causing me to distance the phone from my ear.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry. What's the news?" I asked her.

"Do you remember the huge mansion near the house?" She asked me, making me answer, "Yes, what about it?"

"We'll be having the Christmas feast there!" She exclaimed on the phone.

My lips turned into a wide grin and my eyes widened in surprise, gaining a lifted eyebrow from Peter whom was clueless all along. I exclaimed, "Really?! How?!"

"The owner decided to collaborate with us because of our outstanding feast every year. We can also use the dining room, the living room, the kitchen, and the christmas tree!" She told me excitedly.

"Wow!" I exclaimed in response, happy with the news.

"Bring some friends over, we'll be feasting all night!" She commanded me.

"Yes, Nana!" I responded in excitement.

"Okay, honey. I have to go and organise this thing. Goodbye!" She said, ending the call.

"Bye!" I said before she ended the call. I whirled around and faced Peter. He eyed me with confusion, saying, "What?"

"The party avenue is moved into a more exquisite avenue!" I announced happily, literally jumping happily.

"Lovely." He responded with a smile.

I guess...not everything's bad.

End of this chapter, the next few chapters will be more about Christmas! Yay!!! I don't know why but I'm loving this story, even though I'm the author.

Anyway, hi guys! How are you doing? Are you having fun? I'm so freakishly free, like a bird. Okay, I'm getting weird. Anyway, I'll see you guys in the next chapter!