Page 6

Chapter Six : Jell-O Peace Offering

I was the first to arrive at Theoretical Thaumaturgy 301 so I took my usual seat at the table in the back of the room by the floor-to-ceiling corner windows so I could enjoy the view.

If I stayed awake long enough to enjoy it.

Despite the ancient look of the building from the outside, the inside was just like any other school I've been told; wooden tables with chairs, chalkboards, and shelves encompassed each classroom and were filled with research materials and books.

Though I've never been to a human school, I've seen pictures online, in magazines, and in movies and television shows, and it all looked the same to me.

An overly-priced, private school for spoiled brats.

This particular subject wasn't my favorite class, but at least I shared it with Slevin so I had someone to complain about the Professor with. Mundanes still have to go through Thaumaturgy classes since we're living in a world of Thaumaturgy, and many of them are shared with Wights; Slevin missed this particular class two years ago so he's playing catch up.

Fifteen minutes before class started was just the right amount of time for a nap.

I rested my head on the table, the cool wood felt amazing against the slight swelling I had on that side of my face.

But as quickly as I dozed off, I was being snapped back to reality.

Even in sleep, my senses were still very much alert, and the fresh ambrosial-floral scent suddenly coming from the chair next to mine pulled me back to the world of the living.

"Why are you here?" I grumbled without opening my eyes.

"That is rather impressive," Prince de Babineaux commented.

"What is impressive? That I knew you were here?" I asked with a smirk.

"No, that you are conscious," he said. "Normally with the amount of drool flowing from your parted lip, I would have thought you were in a coma."

Jerk.

"Okay, that's fair," I grumbled, opening my eyes, and looked over at him. "You didn't answer my question."

His green eyes moved over me, appraisingly.

He looked good, not nearly as good as shirtless Prince de Babineaux, but it was close.

"Why did I not see you in the Healing Center?" he asked; his eyes continuing to move over my face, appraisingly.

So he's still playing evasion?! Lovely. This time with answers instead of Vyras.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore him.

"The human heart creates enough pressure to squirt blood over nine meters," I said.

"Is that a threat?" he asked.

"More of a random factoid, but next time we spar we shall see just how far I can get your blood to squirt," I warned with a smile.

"I acknowledge the warning. Why will you not answer my initial question?" he demanded, thoroughly annoyed.

I smirked. "You never answer me, so turnabout is fair play. Sucks, doesn't it?" I looked at him to gauge his response.

Prince de Babineaux looked contemplative for a moment before he nodded his agreement. "Okay, that is fair," he said, and it stole my attention; that's what I say. "Because I wanted to sit here, and I came bearing gifts."

"Huh?" I asked, sitting up a little too quickly, and winced at the sudden knot that formed in my back. "Ow."

"Again, why did I not see you at the Healing Center?" he asked, irritated.

Time to play evasion myself.

"Gifts?" I beamed, batting my lashes.

Prince de Babineaux rolled his eyes and slid a second ice pack over to me with a Jell-O cup and a plastic spoon.

"Ooh blue, my favorite!" I beamed, excited.

It wasn't an act.

I loved blue Jell-O and it was what I was craving.

"Thank you, Prince de Babineaux," I said, pulling the foil top off of the cup, exposing the simplistic hidden gem inside, tapping my toes with excitement.

"It is not thankworthy," he said. "And do not call me that. I hate it when you call me that. And I do not like to repeat myself, and yet I have done so three times now: why did you not go for healing?" he asked again, pulling the top off of a cup of strawberry Jell-O.

I watched as he spooned a bite into his mouth.

The way his full lips wrapped around the head of the spoon, how he turned it in his mouth so when he pulled it out it was upside down, it was familiar to me for some reason.

Again, déjà vu.

Watching someone as large and refined as Prince de Babineaux eating Jell-O in such a childlike manner just doesn't look right.

He looked like an adult, sounded like an adult, carried himself like an adult, and yet he looked like a little boy eating dessert.

"What?" he asked when I continued to watch him.

"It's nothing," I assured him, turning my attention back to my own Jell-O. "And to answer your repetitive question, the healing pools are designated for Royals and serious injuries. None of which apply to me."

His head tilted to the side to regard me before he pushed his falling hair from his face.

"Besides, I did it to my damn self," I reminded him. "Regardless of the grappling rings being warded against fatal and critical injury, the pain I feel now was warranted for my failure. If I had tapped out after the first hundred points were scored, like a normal person would have done, I wouldn't feel like a truck hit me right now. I'll be fine in a few days. I'll just do light training tonight before calling it an early night."

Prince de Babineaux shook his head. "You are so annoying sometimes," he complained before shoving the last bite of his Jell-O in his mouth.

I looked at him. "What? Wait, why is that..." I winched and rubbed my head. "Ow."

"Why subject yourself to such needless pain just to save face?" he asked.

"It's just a headache," I whispered, rubbing my fists against my clenched eyes. "Don't get mad if I puke on you, Prince de Babineaux."

"Do not call me that," he said again. "Call me Viggo."

I looked at him. "Wait, your name is Viggo... Oh shit, ow!" I cried out when a severe stabbing pain in my head caused me to cry out, and I struggled to keep my food down.

"Do not move," Viggo whispered, his voice suddenly coming from behind me. "And stop assaulting your eyes like that. You will damage the already bruised tissue."

I flinched when Viggo raked his fingers through my hair, applying more and more pressure as he went, massaging my scalp as his strong fingers went down to my neck before pressing against the feng chi points at the back of my head with his thumbs, and I gasped.

Softly he mumbled something under his breath that I couldn't hear over the ringing in my ears from the sudden migraine.

When Viggo activated the pressure points at the back of my head, the migraine that was flaring up instantly started to wane and the flashes of lights flooding my vision started to dissipate.

"Breathe," Viggo whispered, continuing to apply pressure that was unbelievably lovely at the moment. "Better?" he asked, pulling his thumbs down the sides of my neck, along the cervical vertebrae, and deep into the muscles along the sides. As he did that, he raked his long fingers up into my hair, massaging my scalp at the same time, and the sensation was beyond words.

Normally I would hit someone for touching me without permission.

Especially a male, a Vampire, a Vampire Prince at that!

But I couldn't.

This was exactly what I needed at the moment to keep from throwing up everything I had eaten at lunch, which was a lot. I accused Slevin of vanity being his sin of choice, but pride is mine and I would die of embarrassment if I puked all over Viggo.

When Viggo pushed his thumbs farther down between my shoulders, pressing deep into the muscle, I moaned rather loudly and my lashes fluttered as my eyes rolled back.

Instantly Viggo stopped and stepped back, away from me.

"Sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed. "Thank you for keeping me from making an even bigger ass out of myself than I already have today."

Could I make myself look any more pathetic if I tried?!

"Thank you for the Jell-O and the impromptu pressure point activations," I said, looking over my shoulder.

Viggo stood there with his hands folded together in front of him, his cape pulled around him as if for protection, his eyes wide, hair falling in his face.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

The look on his face confused me.

It wasn't the cocksure Prince that I was accustomed to seeing today, or the smug Vampire that thought rather highly of himself.

Instead, he looked sheepish and confused, like a normal teenage boy.

"Do I scare you?" I asked before spooning the rest of the blue Jell-O in my mouth.

Viggo snorted, rolling his eyes, before reclaiming the seat next to mine, dramatically flinging his cape away from him.

I chuckled. "Yup. That's what I thought," I smugly said, softly knocking into him, and he cocked an eyebrow, looking over at me.