Break Apart Her Heart

**Dani’s POV**

She couldn’t believe them. She could not fucking believe them. Ray and Khorie totally left her ass there. Alone. With Frank. Where was the justice? They should be struck down with lightening or something. Anything to make up for what they were doing to her. Oh, Ray was going to get an earful. He had told her he was going to stay, and then, when her back was turned, he left. Asshole.

Dani stared down at the piece of paper in front of them. They were supposed to choose a poem, then write about it. And neither of them could really agree on one. Frank kept wanting to do a paper on something that had fighting or death in it. No matter how many times she told them that they were doing Romanticism, he didn’t seem to understand that most of the poetry was going to have nothing to do with death. It was starting to get on her last nerve.

“Frank. This is Romanticism, you idiot,” she said, for what seemed like the millionth time since they sat down.

“So? What’s your point?”

“My point is that there’s not going to be blood and gore. So, we need to pick a damn poem. We’ve been arguing for the past hour. We’ve got nothing done. And I don’t want to fail,” she told him, fully exasperated with him.

His eyes narrowed. “And you think I do?”

An eyebrow cocked over one of her blue eyes. “Well, you sure as hell haven’t made an effort yet.”

Frank stood, apparently offended by her words. He began packing up his things, shoving books and paper into his backpack with tremendous force. She watched his teeth clench, the vein in his throat popping out like it usually did when he was pissed off at her. Damn, he was so fucking dramatic today. It seemed that everything she said to him made him go to the verge of breaking mode. Still, she needed him. She wasn’t going to do this on her own. Nor did she want to.

She sighed heavily, averting her eyes to a spot to her right. “Frank, don’t go. I’m sorry. I just…I’m just frustrated. I really want to do good on this.”

He glared at her, still putting things into his bag. “Well, I’m sure that you can do better without me, since I’m not making an effort.”

“I can’t do it without you! Damn it, we’ve been assigned to work together, and that’s what we’re going to do,” she said, her voice loud as she slammed a fist onto the table. It made him jump, clearly not expecting her to get so worked up about it.

Frank paused, staring at her with those hazel eyes of his. His stare suddenly made her feel very uncomfortable, and she shifted in her seat. Since when did he make her feel nervous?

Okay, Dani admitted that Frank wasn’t that bad looking. In fact, he was quite gorgeous with his black hair, the way that one side seemed to fall gracefully over his eyes. And those eyes. They were a deep hazel color. In certain lights, they looked more green, while in others, they looked more brown. And they were intense. They shone merrily all the time, even when he was yelling at her. He was short, but taller than her by a few inches. He was by far one of the most handsome men in the school.

But his irritating nature completely made her blind to that. Well, not blind. But it made her completely forget about his sexiness.

“Would you stop looking at me like that?” she exclaimed, bringing her eyes to meet his.

A cocky grin came over his face, making her blush. Stupid damn smile.

“Alright. Fine then. I’ll stay. But let’s just pick a stupid poem so that we can write the stupid paper,” he said, sitting back down. He scooted his chair closer to her so that they both could look over the list.

She became very aware of him. Every time he moved, she could sense it. Every now and then, his hand would go up to brush some dark strands from his eyes. His other hand drummed on the tabletop, making a steady rhythm. One of his legs jiggled anxiously, probably from his ADHD. He smelled of coconuts and his cologne. Dani happened to be an avid fan of coconuts and she found herself leaning a bit closer to him to smell it even better.

“I say we do this one.”

His words broke her out of her thoughts and she peered at the paper where his finger was pointed. “’Tis Said That Some Died of Love” was the title of the poem, by William Wordsworth. She had never heard of it before, but she didn’t see why not. It was much better to choose a lesser known piece of work anyways. At least that’s what Dani thought. She sent Frank a small smile before nodding her head.

“Sure. That works for me,” she said, reaching over the table for her English book.

She didn’t expect for Frank to reach for it at the same time.

Their hands touched softly, his over her own. She could feel the calluses on his fingertips from years of playing guitar. It felt rough on her own soft skin, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasurable. Frank’s hand was warm, much warmer than her own. Both of the girls had inherited a blood disorder from their mother. It wasn’t something completely horrible. It was just that their blood didn’t circulate like every one else’s. Which meant that 90% of the time, they were freezing.

Surprisingly, the simple and accidental touch sent shockwaves through her body. Dani jerked her hand back, blushing furiously. “Sorry,” she muttered, placing her hand into her lap.

He gave her another cocky grin before grabbing the book, bringing it closer to them. He flipped open the pages and found the one that had their poem on it. They both leaned forward to scan the pages. Dani could hear Frank’s soft voice as he read the lines to himself.

'Tis said, that some have died for love:
And here and there a churchyard grave is found
In the cold north's unhallowed ground,
Because the wretched man himself had slain,
His love was such a grievous pain.
And there is one whom I five years have known;
He dwells alone
Upon Helvellyn's side:
He loved--the pretty Barbara died;
And thus he makes his moan:
Three years had Barbara in her grave been laid
When thus his moan he made:

"Oh, move, thou Cottage, from behind that oak!
Or let the aged tree uprooted lie,
That in some other way yon smoke
May mount into the sky!
The clouds pass on; they from the heavens depart.
I look--the sky is empty space;
I know not what I trace;
But when I cease to look, my hand is on my heart.

"Oh! what a weight is in these shades! Ye leaves,
That murmur once so dear, when will it cease?
Your sound my heart of rest bereaves,
It robs my heart of peace.
Thou Thrush, that singest loud--and loud and free,
Into yon row of willows flit,
Upon that alder sit;
Or sing another song, or choose another tree.

"Roll back, sweet Rill! back to thy mountain-bounds,
And there for ever be thy waters chained!
For thou dost haunt the air with sounds
That cannot be sustained;
If still beneath that pine-tree's ragged bough
Headlong yon waterfall must come,
Oh let it then be dumb!
Be anything, sweet Rill, but that which thou art now.

"Thou Eglantine, so bright with sunny showers,
Proud as a rainbow spanning half the vale,
Thou one fair shrub, oh! shed thy flowers,
And stir not in the gale.
For thus to see thee nodding in the air,
To see thy arch thus stretch and bend,
Thus rise and thus descend,--
Disturbs me till the sight is more than I can dear."

The Man who makes this feverish complaint
Is one of giant stature, who could dance
Equipped from head to foot in iron mail.
Ah gentle Love! if ever thought was thine
To store up kindred hours for me, thy face
Turn from me, gentle Love! nor let me walk
Within the sound of Emma's voice, nor know
Such happiness as I have known to-day.
0.

“It’s pretty,” Dani whispered, more to herself than anything. The words of William Wordsworth sank deep within her mind. She had always had a thing for poetry or lyrics. The inner meanings behind the words made her mind work on overdrive as she fought to understand. It was like an intricate puzzle, both amazingly beautiful, yet sinister at the same time. As she read them, she could see herself in the writer’s shoes, feeling the same emotions that were put onto the paper.

She turned slightly to look at Frank, but his eyes weren’t on the paper. They were on her. She cocked an eyebrow once more as their eyes met. They were both silent, both apparently waiting on something. What it was, neither of them knew. But it was like a sickenly sweet aura that was cast around the both of them, making them oblivious to the world.

And then, he moved forward and placed his lips on hers. She froze, eyes wide. What the fuck? Was he kissing her? Why? She hated him. He hated her. Surely the damn poem didn’t effect him that much, did it?

But before she could even react, Frank had pulled away from her. He stood abruptly and grabbed his bag, his face red. Without saying a word, he left her in the dining room, completely dumbfounded. She closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to the lids as she crossed her other arm across her chest.

Men were so damn confusing.