Melusine walked back to the classroom, her steps in sync with Cnoc na Riabh's, the infamous trio trailing behind them. The air was filled with Cnoc na Riabh's voice, a stream of chatter about trivial matters. Normally, Melusine would have found such small talk irritating, but today, it was different. The excitement from her unexpected adventure hadn't faded, and she found herself listening, actually listening, to Cnoc na Riabh's monologue, a silent observer soaking in the mundane yet strangely comforting details of her classmate's life.
Behind them, Grímr played the role of a melodramatic fallen hero, lamenting his defeat with theatrical flair. "She brutalized us!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of pain and exaggerated despair.
Muramasa and Oberon, who were half-carrying, half-dragging him, shushed him with mild annoyance. "Keep quiet, or she might come back for round two," they warned, their voices low but firm.
As they reached the bustling corridor, the bell rang, signaling the end of the class. The students began to flood the space, a tide of energy and noise. Leading the exodus from their classroom was Miss Le Fay, her expression one of satisfaction rather than annoyance at the missed hour of teaching. She greeted Cnoc na Riabh, commending her for her efficiency in dealing with the situation. Cnoc na Riabh, in her typical humble manner, deflected the praise to Melusine. "Miss Melusine did all the heavy lifting," she said, a smirk playing on her lips.
Miss Le Fay turned her attention to Melusine, offering her thanks and a stern sermon to the delinquents. Pleased with the outcome, Cnoc na Riabh, exclaiming “Mission accomplished!” raised her hand for a high-five. But Melusine's attention was suddenly elsewhere.
Aurora's figure emerged in the corridor, her presence drawing Melusine's gaze like a magnet. Aurora's face was an unreadable mask, her emotions hidden behind a veil of calm indifference. Cnoc na Riabh, sensing the shift in Melusine's focus, chuckled softly and withdrew her hand, her smirk deepening as she murmured a "see you later" before drifting away.
Melusine and Aurora stood there, their eyes locked in a silent conversation. Time seemed to stretch, the world around them fading into a blur. Then, as Melusine opened her mouth to speak, Aurora cut her off with a simple yet loaded question. "Did you have fun?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. Melusine hesitated, the words catching in her throat. The pause was brief, but it was enough. Enough for Aurora to discern the answer she hadn't received. With a turn of her heel, Aurora began to walk away, her steps measured, her back a silent barrier between them.
Melusine's heart pounded in her chest, a cacophony of regret and self-reproach echoing through her mind. She bit her lip, the sharp pain a physical manifestation of her internal turmoil. Without a second thought, she dashed after Aurora, her footsteps quick and determined.
"Aurora! I’m sorry!" she called out, her voice laced with a desperation that she couldn't hide. Aurora slowed and turned, her smile in place, but her eyes, those windows to her soul, betrayed a storm of emotions.
"Why are you apologizing?" Aurora asked, her voice deceptively calm, her smile a mask that didn't reach her eyes.
Melusine, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, struggled to find the words that would bridge the chasm that had opened between them. "I'm sorry," she began, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry for not being there. I... I should have been there, by your side. I shouldn't have left without telling you. I was selfish, and I... I regret it. Please, Aurora, I'm so sorry."
Aurora listened, her smile unwavering, her gaze piercing. Then, without a word, she turned and started walking away. Melusine understood the unspoken invitation; she followed.
They walked in silence to the gymnasium's locker room, the only place deserted during the lunch break. There, Aurora finally turned to face Melusine again. Her smile was still there, a mask that concealed the storm beneath.
"You should never take your eyes off me, Melusine," Aurora said, her voice soft yet laced with an undeniable authority. "You should always ask before doing anything. You made me worry, and that's something I don't tolerate. I need to know that I can count on you, that you're always there, just a step behind me. It's not just about being present; it's about understanding what I need, even before I say it. You're more than just a companion; you're a part of my world, and when you step out of it, even for a moment, it disrupts everything."
"Melusine, my sweet Melusine," Raising her hand to caress Melusine’s cheek, Aurora continued. "You should never take your eyes off me. You should never, ever make me worry like you did. Do you understand how that felt, wondering where you were, what you were doing? You're supposed to be there for me, always. That's your role, isn't it? To be my guardian, my shadow. Don't forget that, Melusine. Don't forget your place."
Tears streaked Melusine's cheeks, glistening like morning dew, as she nodded in response to Aurora's words. Her emotions were a torrent, a mixture of guilt, loyalty, and a desperate need for redemption.
"Do you understand?" Aurora's voice was soft, almost hypnotic.
"Yes," Melusine whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Will you do it again?" Aurora asked, her eyes searching Melusine's.
"No," came the choked reply, a vow etched in sorrow.
"Kiss me to prove it," Aurora commanded, her tone a blend of demand and desire.
Melusine leaned in. Their lips met in a bittersweet union, sealed in the privacy of the locker room. When they parted, Aurora's expression was one of mild distaste.
"It tasted terrible. Bitter and sour because of your tears. Make sure to wipe them before next time," she commented, shaking her head.
Melusine hastily wiped her tears, her heart aching with the need for Aurora's forgiveness. "Am I redeemed?" she asked, her voice laden with hope.
Before Aurora could answer, a sudden thud from the door cut through the moment. Melusine's protective instincts surged to the forefront, her body moving before her mind had time to process. She rushed to the door, only to catch a glimpse of a retreating figure, the telltale signs of an eavesdropper hastily making their escape.
When Aurora inquired about the disturbance, Melusine turned back, her expression tense. "Someone saw us," she said.
Aurora's reaction, however, was unexpectedly nonchalant. She laughed, a sound light and carefree, and hugged Melusine from behind. Her tongue traced a playful, mischievous path along Melusine's neck.
"You're mine, always and forever. Never forget that," Aurora whispered, her breath warm against Melusine's skin.
…
Gareth hurried back to her classroom, her mind swirling with the scene she had inadvertently witnessed. The images played back in her head like a film she couldn't pause, leaving her with a sense of disarray and confusion.
As she entered the classroom, her gaze fell on her group of friends, a motley crew of outcasts and nerds, comfortably ensconced in their own world. They were in their usual spot, a corner of the room that had become their unofficial territory. Altria was there, her lunchbox open in front of her, revealing a half-burnt meal that only added to her shy, clumsy charm. Beside her, Barghest was living up to her reputation, devouring a meal that seemed enough for ten people.
Joining them today were some familiar faces: Muramasa, with a lunch that looked like it belonged in a gourmet restaurant; Grímr, munching on a half-eaten triangle sandwich filled with tuna; and Oberon, who had chosen sleep over sustenance, his head resting on the desk.
Sometimes, their group would be graced by the presence of Cnoc na Riabh, the class representative and Altria's childhood friend, or Habetrot, the school's janitor who had a soft spot for them. But today, Gareth was relieved it was just them, her core group of friends.
Upon seeing her, Altria waved, her voice tinged with concern. "Gareeeeth! Did you find your water bottle?" she asked.
"Nope... I guess it's lost..." Gareth replied, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and sadness.
"Ohh... I hope you can get a new one," Altria said, her sympathy evident.
Gareth's heart sank. She had indeed forgotten her water bottle in the locker room the previous day during PE. A water bottle that wasn't just any container – it was a limited edition, collector's item adorned with her favorite comic book character. It was a gift she had earned only after weeks of persuasion and academic achievements, a prize she treasured.
Gareth's mind raced back to the conditions under which she had received the water bottle. The three good marks that had been her ticket to earning it seemed like a distant memory now. She knew all too well that replicating that academic success was a feat she hadn't managed since, and the likelihood of getting a new one under similar circumstances was slim.
As she sat down with her friends, trying to engage in their usual lunchtime banter, Gareth couldn't help but feel a sense of loss, not just for the water bottle.
As Gareth settled into her seat, trying to shake off the heavy cloak of her thoughts, the banter among her friends offered a welcome distraction.
Grímr, always quick with a joke, was teasing Muramasa about his gourmet lunch. "Hey Muramasa, did you rob a five-star restaurant or something?" he quipped, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he took another bite of his humble tuna sandwich.
Muramasa rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "You could learn a thing or two if you stopped stuffing your face with those triangle sandwiches," he retorted, his gaze lingering on Grímr's less than stellar choice of lunch.
Altria, trying to suppress a giggle, chimed in, her voice tinged with playful sarcasm. "Maybe Grímr is onto something. A triangle sandwich diet could be the next big thing. You know, for people who love geometry and... tuna."
Grímr puffed his chest out, pretending to be offended. "Hey, don't knock the triangle sandwich! It's the perfect shape for maximum flavor efficiency. See, each bite is mathematically designed to—"
Muramasa interrupted, his laughter cutting through Grímr's explanation. "Mathematically designed? Grímr, the only math you know is how many girls you manipulated.”
Altria, always the peacemaker, chimed in with her usual shy, stuttering charm. "N-now, let's not f-fight over food. We all know that Barghest would eat anything and everything given the chance!"
The group erupted into laughter as Barghest, momentarily pausing her impressive eating display, raised her hands in surrender. "Guilty as charged!" she declared; her voice muffled by the food in her mouth.
Grímr, seizing the moment, leaned towards Altria with a conspiratorial grin. "So, Altria, how's the quest for a perfectly cooked meal going? Any more culinary disasters we should be aware of?"
Altria's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. "W-well, I'm getting better! Last night, I only burnt half of my dinner instead of the whole thing," she confessed, her embarrassment turning into a small, proud smile.
Muramasa, joining in the laughter, added, "Half a victory is still a victory, Altria. Next time, aim for a quarter burnt, and you'll be a gourmet chef in no time!"
The sound of laughter that rippled through their corner of the classroom jolted Oberon from his slumber. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light and the smiles around him, but his expression quickly shifted to one of confusion.
"Where am I?" he mumbled, scanning the room with a drowsy gaze. Without waiting for an answer, Oberon stood up, his movements languid, and strolled out of the classroom, leaving a trail of curiosity in his wake.
In the hallway, he encountered Percival, Avalon’s beloved sports star, whose presence seemed to radiate a warmth and friendliness that drew people to him. Oberon, who often found Percival's sunny disposition a bit too overwhelming, approached him with a hint of reluctance.
"What are you looking for?" Oberon inquired, his tone neutral yet tinged with a subtle undercurrent of irritation.
Percival, misinterpreting Oberon's approach as a sign of friendliness, brightened up immediately. "Hey, have you seen Melusine? I've been looking for her," he asked with an enthusiastic smile.
Oberon, displaying a rare flash of his enigmatic charm, responded with a mysterious smile of his own. "Of course, I know where she is. I'd be happy to show you," he said, his words laced with an uncharacteristic hint of eagerness.
Percival, taken aback but trusting, nodded eagerly. "That'd be great, thanks!"
As they walked down the corridor, Percival's stride was buoyant, his demeanor one of easy confidence. Oberon led the way, his steps measured, his smile never wavering.
Oberon, typically aloof and enigmatic, seemed to relish the role of guide, his usual reservedness replaced by a playful, almost mischievous air. Percival, for his part, followed with a trusting naivety, oblivious to the underlying currents of Oberon's intentions.
