Summary: Combat training gone wrong, memories rise.
It’s entirely too early for this. Between studying and nightmares, there hasn’t been an hour left to sleep. The mats have been cleaned since yesterday. It’s a daily occurrence for others to train, which means it’s a daily occurrence for blood to dry on these mats. No one, to my utter surprise, has tried to challenge me yet. Maybe it’s because I look half dead most of the time. Maybe it’s the tattoo marking me as a ‘rebellion’ child. Who knows. The coffee this morning is warm. Bitter and sweet all at once. Another yawn slips past my lips. Sloane draws beside me, talking about wanting to challenge some chick called Violet. I’ve seen her around. She looks small, but damn if she isn’t mighty. I told her it was a bad idea. She won’t listen. She’s too stubborn.
“Are you even listening?” Sloane asks, waving a hand in view. It snaps me from the distant fog of sleep, earning a blank eyed stare. She raises a brow, looking disgusted. “You really didn’t get a lick of sleep?” She questions as though I haven’t already told her as much. I simply shake my head, taking another sip of coffee. It burns in all the right places. It warms my hands and body. Probably due to my lovely signet setting off my body temperature. I’m always cold now.
Fire is a blessing, Little Flame. Vito grumbles. Any signet is a blessing. It’s just trying to learn how to control the damn fire that likes to spike at random times. Thinning my lips, I turn back to the match taking place. All the while, his gaze slips over my skin like he can see inside my soul. Maybe he can. He’s known me long enough to know every little thing about me. Aaric Graycastle, going by some stupid code name to hide his identity, stares from across the room. Those green eyes flash with something. Cockiness? Recognition? He runs a hand through his sandy blonde hair. He’s a sight for sore eyes. That’s for sure. Even if we don’t share a good history, it’s still a comfort in this place.
It’s probably weird that we're staring at each other from across the room. Attraction, hatred, regret… It all swirls into a fiery pit in my stomach. The flames lick beneath my skin, asking for relief. Not here though. Not with so many watching. Not before I can learn to control it. Varrish would kill me. Something about the world not balancing with my new signet. Aaric’s green eyes sharpen, and his jaw sets. His fist clenches. He moves like he doesn’t have a second to spare. It’s only when teeth sink into my neck that I understand why. My eyes flash bright with pain, but my body moves before my brain fully catches up. Kicking my leg between the attackers, I hook it and grab his head. In seconds, his body twists with a sickening crunch. His teeth fall away, but not without taking a chunk of my flesh with him.
“What the fuck.” Sloane mutters, stepping away from the ordeal. Did I spill my coffee? I swear to Malek above that if that bastard made me spill my coffee, I’ll kill him if he isn’t already dead. As I turn, searching for the sweet aroma, warmth bleeds from my neck. Why on earth would someone attack by biting someone else? That makes no sense. It stings. It’s cold. A warm hand clamps over the wound, applying pressure. My body tenses, a pained gasp escaping. I don’t know how bad it is. I don’t care. Where the fuck did my coffee go?
“Love, I’ll get you another coffee.” Love. That damn name falling from his lips as though he didn’t crush us for no good reason. My eyes flash up, and I’m sure they’re glowing red. The fire crackles harshly, hissing beneath my skin that now steams. We haven’t talked since that day. Since I was forced into this damn college, and he chose to come. He said loving me would be a risk. That he couldn’t afford to see me get hurt. Ha! Whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s offering coffee. A new cup. I’ll take it. But who the hell attacked?
The man lays twists, his eyes wide open and bleeding. He isn’t familiar. I did not do that. Someone else did. Vito laughs, entertained by this whole situation. Something white and foamy drips from his lips, mixed with my blood. Fear rises so sharply, the room shifts with it. What was wrong with him, and will I become affected? Was he poisoned? Did he have rabies? Slowly, carefully, I touch the raw skin around Aaric’s hand.
“Listen to me.” Aaric orders, his voice seeping back into reality. I turn, searching those moss green eyes. “You’ll be fine.” The way he says it, the way his voice softens and his head dips to stare into my soul, eases some of the fear. His hands cradle my neck, his thumbs rubbing softly against my jaw. How strange it must look to everyone else… Aaric and I have made it almost a full year without talking once. And now he’s clamping a wound and whispering sweet reliefs as though nothing happened between us. As though we are still us. Everyone else will see him as a stranger. Just another cadet ready to die. They’ll see me as someone who can’t be trusted. Maybe they’ll wonder how this relationship came to be. Hell, they’re probably disgusted. The professor calls out, but it’s difficult to pay much attention to anything when those green eyes flicker down to my lips. The moss green shifts into a forest green like Vito’s scales. Darker. Hungrier.
You’re exes for a reason. Vito chides, protective and frustrated with the display. Sighing, I bite my lip and slowly step out of his arms. My heart cannot take another break. It’s still healing from the last time. His squared jaw clenches, and his hands, now bloodied, fall away. “I’m gonna head to the infirmary.” I call no one in particular, keeping my eyes and head down. Imogen will question me later. I know she will. And I’ll lie to keep his secret safe despite all that’s happened. Because my heart still belongs to him, as it always has.
my dog got attacked at the dog park and now I have a swollen/bloody thumb from sticking my hand in the other dogs mouth to pry it’s jaws from my baby’s neck
