1801

~Aria

Again, Zariah had to pick Malik's lock. As I watched her do it, I wonder for a brief second if I should warn Malik to invest in a better lock system even a Wisdom Pack member wouldn't be able to crack.

The movement of her swinging the door open mirrored the wave of fear that assaulted my heart.

"You search the left side, I'll search the right," Zariah said fleetingly before she wandered straight into the room without a hitch in her step. Swallowing, I took a few moments to get myself together, before I followed her inside.

The first thing that struck me, was how his room heavily smelt like him. I should have expected the rich yet subtle spicy scent of Malik. It sunk another bout of guilt onto my shoulders, making me inwardly curse myself as I close the door behind me. Yet all my worry evaporated suddenly, as I took in the Alpha of Love's room.

He hadn't bothered to make his bed - his white sheets rumpled around his mattress. Wouldn't someone make it for him, or does he not let anyone in his room?

His room is rather magnificent though. His bed is situated close to the door, which probably isn't the most ethical decision. The rest of his room expands, furnished with a chaise lounge and a few side tables, with plants that don't look very alive. Two large glass doors framed by thick curtains show a small balcony area outside, that is caked with snow.

I exhale slowly.

Why am I so surprised that Malik is living in utter luxury? Zariah doesn't seem to care, as she walk directly to his desk pushed against the left wall, immediately opening the draw to rustle through it. I took a moment, trying to force my body to commit to this.

"Aria," I Zariah snaps, making me jump back into reality. "We don't have much time?"

Clenching my jaw, I walk toward his bedside table. Two books are piled atop each other, with one being a bland hardcover with no title to be seen. I lift it up, to see the exact book Malik had told me to read the first time we had met. That trashy romance story I had deemed too inappropriate for anything I wanted to read.

My eyebrows furrow. Why does he have this?

I set it back under the hardcover quickly, not wanting to tell Zariah, who still doesn't know about Malik and I's library meetings, that recently haven't been happening. I don't want to risk offending her.

I move on to his other bedside table, while Zariah continues searching the desk. He has a half filled cup of water, and a pair of glasses on the stand. Seeing the black spectacles, I have to smother a giggle - I can't believe Malik wears glasses! He hasn't worn them outside of this room, or at least around us just yet.

Opening one of the draws reveals a small book, with a leather cover. Picking it up, I realise it's a diary.

A flicker of conflict passes through me.

Should I open it? No, that's his private property. I place the diary back. But I've already broken into his room. I pick it back up again. What am I thinking? I put it down again. Aria, this might have clues to do with the necklace, which is what you are here for. I pick it up again. I can't, that's way too-

The diary is suddenly plucked from my hands by a curious Zariah.

"Oh, this is perfect!"

Just as I had convinced myself that I wouldn't invade his personal thoughts like that, Zariah took it upon herself to check it out. Her clinical way of viewing things made it easy for her to flick through the first pages of his personal writing. She is here to find out if there is something behind this competition, and she thinks I am too.

Malik's desk is covered in paper, which I try to look at, but find myself struggling to. I've been in here long enough to feel the guilt that is slowly seeping under my skin.

"I think I just hit the jackpot!" Zariah exclaims excitedly from behind me.

I turn, to see her in the middle of Malik's diary. Her face is split in a large grin, as she reads over whatever is on the page. My heart stops for a second. What if he wrote about our meetings? As curious as I am to find out, I can't let Zariah see that. As I go to grab it, she deflects my arm.

Instead of being what I thought it was, looking over her shoulder, I saw pictures of all the girls.

He's an artist too.

Zariah was looking at a picture of herself, which sketched with exceptional skill. It accentuated her high cheek bones, and even her striking blue eyes. She looked more than beautiful in this portrait drawing, which gave us a look into Malik's talent. From looking at him, I would not have taken the joking, playful man as an artist. Especially at this level...

"Woah," I all I can say, not bothering to keep the wonder out of my voice.

Underneath the sketch, is a short description of the girl above. I can tell Zariah is reading it, as she bites the edge of her lip nervously. I decide to read it too.

The first part was as much as I thought it would be. It explained her personality, and how she acted around Malik. It was a little intrusive of me to be reading Malik's personal thoughts about her, until the last part caught my eye. It was her place in the Wisdom Pack, and reading it nearly made me light headed to the point where I might faint.

"Best in her class," I murmur. "Given a scholarship after getting 100% on her last graduating exam. One of the only to ever achieve this...They call her a miracle."

I knew Zariah was smart, but that smart.

"This is why I came here," she tells me, tapping the pages quickly. She turns to me, eyes blazing.

"Almost everyone in here has something special about them. How did an unbiased ballot select that many perfect girls just randomly-"

Her words were cut off, at the sound of a door slamming from down the hallway. Zariah and I exchange frightened looks, as we come to the realisation that someone is coming, and it might just be Malik.

"Let's get out of here," Zariah says, shoving the diary under her shirt. I gape at her, but don't question what she is doing.

I need to look for Malik's necklace, otherwise I'm never going to get another opportunity to, and I might get sent home. So when Zariah opened the door, looking back to demand I follow her, I shake my head and tell her I need to grab something else, before we lost all other chance.

"You're going to get sent home if you're caught," she warned, looking anxiously down the hallway, where Malik might be coming from.

I shake my head, turning back. Maybe he took it off in the bathroom. His ensuite is bigger than my room back at home, but I take little time to admire the sleek tiles and shower big enough for an entire party of people. At this point, I'm pulling draws open at fast rates, browsing through them for any hint of fake silver that made up Malik's necklace.

Nothing. I've made a mistake.

Making a split decision, I decide to leave right now, however, when I leave the bathroom, the door is closed, and I hear the sound of a key jiggling in a lock within. That means only one thing...Malik is here.

Cringing, I back up again, my bare feet sticking slightly to the tiles underneath me. I'm done for. Malik may have been able to handle me in his library, but I don't think he would be fond of me in his room like this. I wouldn't even have an excuse.

Slowly, I back into the shower, closing the door after me. This is stupid, but at least the glass is tinted enough so I can't be seen in here.

What if he smells me? Oh Goddess.

Without properly thinking, I grab some of his soap from beside me, to begin to lather it on my dry skin. The feeling is horrible, and it will surely dry out, but at least I won't be smelt by him, unless he is really trying.

I hear him walk in, humming to himself. It's cute, in a strange way.

I wish I could see him, but I'm left to guess what he is doing by the sounds he is making. I hear a rustling of papers, and clothes, then nothing. Please just be someone who only likes to shower in the mornings.

Clearly, I'm not going to be able to leave until he has fallen asleep. Even then, I might just be risking everything.

Being as silent as possible, I slap my palm against my forehead for being so impulsive.

What's the bet he is still wearing the necklace?

All of a sudden, he walks into the room, and I place my hand over my mouth to make sure no other sounds come out. I can only see his shadow through the manipulated glass, yet it was enough to see him at the vanity.

He took only a few minutes to do whatever he was to prepare for bed. I feel like some sort of stalker, which is surely what he would think if he decides to take a shower

He doesn't though, to my relief.

Instead he goes back to his room, and when I slide the door open slightly, I see him sitting on one of his lounges seats. I could only see the back of him from my angle, but by the look of it, he is reading.

Something tells me I might be here for awhile...

💚••💚

💐💐

midikacrane

Midika

~Midika 💜🐼