7. Quill
Quill
Despite the ward breach and everything that had happened over the weekend, come Monday morning, the only thing I could think about was that stupid goddamn dragon and that fucking kiss.
I’d managed to convince myself over the course of the weekend that the whole thing had been just adrenaline and proximity.
That in the heat of the moment, with the party thumping around us and my defenses lowered, my body had simply reacted to the physical stimulation without actually wanting it.
It was a convenient lie, and I’d almost believed it by the time Monday rolled around.
Almost.
But the moment I walked into Magical Theory and saw him already sprawled across his chair like some kind of scaled deity, all of that carefully constructed rationalization crumbled to dust. He was wearing a fitted black shirt that showed off the definition of his chest, and his tail was coiled around the base of the chair.
He sat there, acting like he owned the entire classroom and everyone in it was just here for his entertainment.
And the most infuriating part was that he looked fucking good doing it.
I felt my jaw clench as I took my usual seat three rows back, deliberately positioning myself so I wouldn’t have to look directly at him.
The problem was, I could still feel his presence like a weight pressing against my back.
Even without looking, I was hyperaware of every move he made, every shift in his position, and the expansion of his chest with every breath.
This was ridiculous. I’d been kissed before, and I’d managed to move on without this level of obsessive rumination.
So what if this particular kiss had been more intense?
So what if his lips had been warm and his tongue almost ended up in my mouth?
It’s not like I wanted him to do anything else with that tongue.
Or that I wanted to know what it felt like to taste his probably huge dragon—
No. Stop. This was exactly what he wanted. For me to sit here and fantasize about him like one of his groupies. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Professor Blackwood entered the classroom, and I forced myself to focus on her instead of Aeron. She was carrying a stack of papers that she set down on her desk with a sharp thump, and her expression suggested she’d had about as good a weekend as I had.
“I trust you all made it through the ward breach without incident,” she said, not bothering with pleasantries. “I’m sure the administration will have more information for us as the week progresses, but for now, we move forward.”
She began handing out papers to students in the front row, who then passed them back. When the stack reached me, I took one and passed it forward, finally allowing myself to glance toward where Aeron was sitting. He was watching me with that same infuriating smirk, and when our eyes met, he winked.
I felt heat flood my face and quickly looked away.
“These are your first group assignments,” Professor Blackwood continued, reclaiming everyone’s attention.
“You’ll be working on them in pairs. I’d like a full breakdown of magical theory applications for defensive wards, similar to the ones used on the school.
You’ll need to plan for every possibility including unwanted human interaction and animals.
The assignment is due two weeks from today. Pairs will be posted on the board.”
She turned and wrote names on the blackboard in neat, precise letters. I watched as she worked, my stomach doing an odd flip with each pair she listed and announced.
Please don’t pair me with Aeron. Please don’t pair me with Aeron. Please don’t—
“Aeron Pyre and Quill Aster,” she announced, and I felt my entire body go rigid.
No. Absolutely not. This had to be some kind of fucking joke.
“All of you can meet up after class to go over your assignments,” Professor Blackwood continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she’d just sentenced me to two weeks of torture.
I could feel Aeron’s attention snap to me like a hand pressing against the back of my head.
The weight of his gaze was almost suffocating, and I refused to turn around and acknowledge him.
Instead, I stared straight ahead at the back of the witch girl’s head in front of me, my hands clenched into fists in my lap.
This wasn’t happening. I could request a reassignment.
Professor Blackwood had said everyone was held to the same standard.
Surely that meant I could appeal the pairing if there was a conflict.
The problem was, I couldn’t exactly tell her the real reason without admitting that Aeron had kissed me without permission at a party, and I’d spent the entire weekend obsessing over it.
“I expect you all to actually work together on this assignment,” Professor Blackwood said, and I glanced up to find her looking directly at me with a knowing expression.
“Not for one person to do all the work while the other takes credit. I’ll be checking in with each of you individually to ensure equal contribution. ”
Class proceeded with excruciating slowness.
Professor Blackwood lectured about defensive ward structures and their practical applications, and I tried desperately to focus on her words instead of the way I could occasionally catch the scent of something like smoke and cinnamon drifting from Aeron’s direction.
It was maddening. Everything about him was designed to be an annoying distraction. He was probably doing it on purpose.
When class finally ended and students began gathering their things, I moved quickly, shoving my books into my bag with perhaps more force than necessary. I was halfway to the door when I heard his voice.
“Red, wait up.”
I kept walking.
“Come on, we need to figure out when we’re going to work on this project,” he called after me, and I could hear the amusement in his tone. He was enjoying this. Of course he was.
I made it into the hallway before he caught up with me, his much longer stride allowing him to fall into step beside me with infuriating ease.
“We need to talk about the assignment,” he said, not bothering with preamble.
“Send me a letter, dickhead,” I replied flatly, not slowing my pace.
“Aww, don’t be like that, Red,” he began.
“Professor Blackwood said equal contribution,” I said, cutting him off. “I’ll do my part, you do yours. No reason for us to ever see one another outside of class.”
“That’s not going to work and you know it,” he said through his smile. “We need to actually meet up and plan this thing out.”
I finally stopped walking and turned to face him, aware that we were attracting attention from passing students. “Can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”
He puffed up his chest, lavishing in my irritation. “You like me, Red. Just admit it. You can help yourself. Nobody can.”
“Actually, I fucking hate you,” I shot back, not backing down. “And if you ever touch me again without my permission, I will report you. I don’t give a flying fuck who your grandfather is or that you’re a dragon. You can go fuck yourself for all I care.”
His expression shifted, something darker crossing his scaled features. For a moment, I thought he might actually get angry, might show some crack in that infuriating facade. But instead, he just smiled wider, like I’d said something that amused him rather than insulted him.
“You know what I think, Red?” he said, stepping closer. “I think you’re scared. Not of me, but of what you felt when I kissed you. And that terrifies you so much that you’re lashing out like a cornered animal.”
“You’re delusional,” I spat, but even as the words left my mouth, I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. Goddamn it.
“Am I?” He tilted his head, and his horns caught the light streaming through the hallway windows.
“Because your body’s telling me something completely different right now.
Your pupils are dilated. Your breathing’s gotten faster.
And unless I’m very much mistaken, you’ve got a pretty significant tent forming in those jeans of yours. ”
I felt my face flush crimson and immediately turned away, crossing my arms over my crotch. “Fuck you.”
“That can be arranged,” he said smoothly. “But first, we have an assignment to work on. My dorm room tonight at seven. Don’t be late, Red.”
Before I could respond, he was already walking away, his tail swishing behind him. Students pressed themselves against the walls to let him pass, their eyes following him with obvious interest and desire.
I stood there in the middle of the hallway, my chest heaving, my mind a complete fucking mess.
The worst part was that some treacherous part of me was already calculating whether I’d actually show up.
Whether I’d actually walk into his dorm room at seven o’clock and let him torture me with his presence for however long it took to plan this stupid assignment.
No. Absolutely not. I would request a reassignment. I would go to Professor Blackwood right now and tell her there was a conflict and that I couldn’t work with him. I would figure out something.
But even as I made that decision, I knew I wouldn’t follow through.
Because he was right about one thing. I was scared.
Not of him, but of the fact that he was right about me.
That I’d spent the entire weekend thinking about that kiss.
That I secretly, no matter how much I tried to deny it, wanted it to happen again, and that even the ward breach hadn’t been able to drive it from my mine.
I made my way to my next class on autopilot, my mind still spinning.
By the time lunch rolled around, I’d managed to convince myself that I absolutely would not go to his room tonight.
I would tell him some excuse. I would say that I had cross country practice or a meet that I couldn’t miss.
That would have to be good enough for him, because despite whatever latent feelings I might have, I was not going to listen to them.
As soon as I sat down in the cafeteria, I took out a piece of paper and my pencil and began to write.
I drafted a message to Aeron explaining that I had a mandatory team dinner tonight and couldn’t make it.
It was a lie, but a believable one. Lysander, who had suddenly appeared at my side like he always seemed to do, was chattering away about something that had happened during the ward breach, but I wasn’t listening to him.
My focus was entirely on the piece of paper in front of me, on crafting an excuse that would sound plausible enough that he couldn’t call me out on it.
“Quill? Are you even listening to me?” Lysander asked, waving his hand in front of my face.
“Yeah, sorry,” I muttered, folding up the note. “What were you saying?”
“I was saying that the breach was probably just some random people trying to test the wards. Nothing actually got through, so it’s not like we’re in any real danger. It probably wasn’t even the Purity Front. Why would they bother?”
I nodded absently, already planning how I’d slip the note under Aeron’s door before seven o’clock. That way he’d see it in time and wouldn’t show up at my dorm looking for me. He couldn’t drag me to his room if I wasn’t there to be dragged.
The plan made sense. It was solid. It was the right thing to do.
So why did I feel like I was making a mistake?
“What do you think breached the wards?” Lysander asked, pulling me away from my thoughts once more. “Any theories?”
It took me a second to switch gears. “I… I don’t know,” I shrugged.
“Like you said, it could’ve been anyone.
Maybe it was the Elder Council testing their own wards so they could basically run a fire drill on the whole emergency thing.
You know, make sure everything is working like it should and that the students respond correctly. ”
“Oh…” Lysander nodded. “That’s actually a really good theory.” He grinned, giving me a nudge on the shoulder. “You’re smart, Quill. That’s kinda hot.”
“Don’t even start with me,” I sighed, pushing him away. “I’m not interested in your dick.”
“Oh? Got someone else’s on your mind?”
I shot him a dirty look before jamming the note into my bag and laying into my food. “No. I’m here to learn, remember? Not to fuck around.”
“Fine, fine,” he huffed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re such a buzzkill.”
“That’s me,” I grumbled. “Not sure why you insist on hanging out with me all the time.”
“You’re my roomie. And you’re cute.”
“As cute as your werewolf guy? Or what about the skinny dude?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Jealous?”
“Fuck off.”