Page 11

TEN

LUCIUS

When you leave someone behind, you leave a piece of yourself with them. And I was leaving a piece of me here. I was leaving my Little Star.

My mind refused to calm. Images of her spun endlessly in my head, and seeing her last night had only made it worse.

The gas mask still lay on the table, reeking of burned plastic, its edges warped from contact with my skin. Yet even that couldn’t mask the obsession I had for her.

I paused, staring at it, watching how it blended into the black iron table. Soon, this industrial place would be replaced by the towering stone walls of Blackthorn, and my peace and the luxury of being alone would be shattered by three thousand students, eighty percent of whom were spoiled brats whose parents had bought their way in.

When I was younger, I never understood how Blackthorn only accepted five students yearly. Five golden tickets—yet every class held thirty. Now I knew the truth. The rest were shipped off by parents who preferred their children out of sight, surrendered willingly into the care of the Dean of Blackthorn. Only five students were truly chosen and awarded full scholarships and privileges that set them apart. Most carried the legacy of the school’s founders in their veins, but sometimes an outsider slipped through, someone whose past intertwined deeply with Blackthorn’s own. The bloodlines had almost gone now.

I stepped toward the open closet, hands in my pockets, scanning the contrast inside. Its two distinct halves stood in contrast. On the left, white shirts, beige and black pants, vests, blazers, two formal suits—polished, composed. On the right, two worn leather jackets, black jeans, black t-shirts I wore almost daily—unpolished, unfiltered. Two lives crammed into one space. And at the bottom, the leather bag that had to contain both of them.

I walked into the bathroom and caught my reflection in the mirror. Reaching up, I removed my lenses, vision blurring the moment my fingertip brushed the surface. On the shelf sat my glasses with gold and dark brown frames, lenses cut in a half-round shape. I slid them on. I already looked like a professor.

I never liked wearing them. They irritated me when I drove. But in class, they made things easier and kept my eyes from drying out.

With a quiet breath, I turned back to the closet, grabbed the bag, and started packing.

“Knock, knock.” Cass appeared from behind, his bag slung over his shoulder. “I came to make sure you’re not late.”

“What a friend you are,” I said with a laugh, walking toward him and bumping my fist against his.

“Glasses, huh?” He leaned against the chair. “Really leaning into the professor look.”

“I take my job seriously,” I said, crossing my arms.

“So,” he turned slightly, “I heard Luna is teaching this year.”

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered. “You good?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled nervously. “She hasn’t spoken to us in years. Wonder why she’s coming back now.”

“Are you planning to talk to her?” I asked, heading into the kitchen. I reached into the cabinet, pulling out two whiskey glasses and a bottle.

“She’s about to become Head of Arachnis House,” he said, approaching as I poured. “Not like I have a choice.” He took his glass and downed it in one go.

“That bad, huh?” I smirked, sipping mine slowly.

“You wouldn’t believe,” he muttered, crossing his arms tightly.

“She was our best friend,” I reminded him, placing my glass on the counter. “We owe her at least some peace.” A grin broke across my face. “Besides, we’re both heads of houses now. Imagine that. We even get to have pets.”

He snorted bitterly. “You realize they stuck a massive python in my room, right? I’m too terrified to even look at it, let alone care for it all year.”

Laughter burst from me, so intense I grabbed onto the countertop to steady myself. “And I get to see the Venom.”

He shook his head slowly. “Venom’s dead, man. They’re on Venom number five already.”

“No.” I stared at him, eyes wide open. “They wouldn’t.”

“Oh, they definitely would,” he replied, arching an eyebrow.

“Remember when we used to scare Luna with that spider?” he chuckled. “Now she’s stuck caring for a tarantula named Princess Nara.” He called out the name mockingly, mimicking Luna’s voice.

“She’s never going to sleep again,” I said, a wicked smile tugging at my lips.

“Guess who’s running Corvus House now?” he asked, pouring himself another whiskey and downing it quicker than before.

“Who?”

“That prick Nikolai,” he scoffed. “Acts like he owns the school just because his father’s in Bratva.” He laughed darkly. “Over my dead body.”

“So, worst year yet?” I asked, raising my glass toward him.

“Nah,” he said with a defiant smirk. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

His eyes shifted to the table, lingering on the gas mask. “Don’t tell me they force you to wear that thing in class.”

“Yep,” I sighed heavily, staring at it. “Not everyone gets the privilege of teaching Political Science and Diplomacy.”

“Blackthorn never fails to entertain,” he chuckled as I was stepping toward the closet.

“Anyway, let’s start packing black.”

“Dude,” he scoffed, “ninety-five percent of your closet is black.”

I gave a half-smirk, but he wasn’t wrong.

“You’re not exactly helping,” I said, pulling shirts off their hangers and folding them neatly into the leather bag.

LUCIUS- 18 years old

I couldn’t sleep. Each time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Adeline—her carved smile, the bathtub filling with blood, water spilling onto the bathroom floor. My eyes burned, I was exhausted, and my stomach twisted at even the thought of blood. Her scent was still on me, the metallic tang of blood still touching the tip of my nose.

Luna stayed by my side through the night, sharing my tears. Perhaps hers flowed for different reasons, but grief felt lighter when carried together. At some point, she made coffee, placed a steaming cup gently beside me, and sat close.

“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice cracking.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answered.

“The students are scared,” she whispered. “Everyone keeps saying she was depressed—that she did it herself.”

I turned sharply toward the wall. “Her eyes were open, Luna. Someone sliced her lips from ear to ear. Someone evil did that. Adeline wasn’t evil.”

Luna’s breath caught, a soft sob escaping. “You wouldn’t...?”

I knew exactly what she meant.

Sitting up abruptly, I met her gaze head-on. “Luna,” I snapped, “you seriously think I—?”

“No,” she interrupted immediately, cupping my face. “God, no.”

“Let’s just stop talking about it,” I said, gently pushing her hands away. “I need time.”

Maybe she did, too, because rather than pushing further, she quietly laid beside me, her head resting against my chest. We stayed that way for a long while, wrapped together in silence.

PRESENT DAY

I zipped up my bag and dropped it by the door. Cassius lay sprawled on the couch, already passed out from nearly finishing an entire bottle of whiskey, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Pulling out my phone, I stared at my recent calls. Her number blurred slightly, but I knew it by heart now. My fingers hovered, hesitant, before I switched to our messages and typed:

“I wonder… if I plucked you from the sky, would you scream or sigh? -L”

Silence stretched.

My jaw tightened. Keys in hand, I was seconds away from driving over to her place and forcing an answer, but then, three dots appeared.

That’s right. Show me what you really want.

Her reply finally came through.

“I don’t want to know the answer to that.”

You’re no fun, Little Star.

“Liar. You’re just scared you’ll like the answer.”

“You think I’ll like the answer? Careful, Little Star might bite back.”

A quiet laugh slipped out.

Cass groaned, throwing a pillow toward me. “Shut up.”

I ignored him, typing quickly:

“Oh, I’m counting on it, Little Star. A bite only makes it more fun.”

“I am not scared anymore.”

“How cute.”

“I don’t know why I’m still talking to you.”

I tossed my phone onto the table, heading to the kitchen to pour whatever whiskey Cass had left behind. The liquid barely filled the glass. As I drank, Cass staggered upright, dragging himself towards me. His shirt hung open, beige pants slipping low on his hips. His shoulder-length hair stuck out wildly in every direction. With a yawn, he stretched his arms overhead, collapsing into a chair pulled awkwardly away from the table.

My phone lay face-up between us, screen still lit. Cass glanced down from the corner of his eye, his mouth opening briefly as if about to say something, but instead, he just looked up at me with his arms crossed, silently judging.

“What?” I asked, downing the last drops from the glass.

“So, you’re texting now?” he inquired, his brow raising.

“Maybe,” I said, placing the empty glass on the counter.

“Alright,” said Cass gently, picking up my phone from the table.

“What are you doing?” I approached Cass, attempting to retrieve my phone from him, but he jumped to his feet, ran to the balcony, and slammed the glass door. I could see his hands racing across the screen through the glass. When he looked up at me, his grin widened, irritating me. But instead of sending anything, he simply opened the door and let me onto the balcony.

Snatching the phone from his grasp, I glanced at the unsent message:

“I will pierce my dick for you so you can see real stars, baby.”

I looked at him, deleting every idiotic word before slapping him lightly across the back of his head. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Come on, you know that would’ve been original,” he laughed, following me back inside. “Admit it.”

“You need help,” I muttered, turning the phone off.

“Me?” he snorted, pointing an accusing finger. “I’m not the one twisting some poor girl around my psycho little finger.”

“Shut up.” I gently pushed him away, went inside the bedroom, and collapsed onto the bed. With my hand on my chest, I stared blankly at the ceiling, tracing patterns in the white spots cast on it from the lamp.

The mattress dipped as Cass settled beside me. After a quiet pause, he asked, “Why her? You could have any girl you wanted. But you got obsessed with the one girl who couldn’t care less.”

“There’s something about her,” I said quietly, still staring upwards. “The second I saw her, I was just… drawn in.” My voice trailed off. “I can’t even explain it.”

Cass stayed silent, then finally chuckled. “You just need to get laid.”

He patted my shoulder, rising to his feet. “Come on, we have to leave. We need to reach Blackthorn before dark.”

“This is Scotland,” I said dryly, pushing myself up onto my elbows. “It’s always dark. Anyway, I was planning to ride the Harley Davidson. Might need it over the weekend.”

“I know,” Cass said casually, shrugging. “That’s why I rented a Chevy Silverado truck.“ He grinned broadly. “We just need to find a YouTube tutorial on loading your beast onto it.”

I blinked at him twice, dramatically placing a hand over my heart. “You traded your Aston Martin for a Chevy Silverado ? I’m genuinely touched.”

Cass rolled his eyes, heading for the shower. “We seriously have to get going.”

“Fine,” I sighed, finally dragging myself off the bed.

For someone who kept rushing me, Cassius sure took his sweet time getting ready. His “quick” shower turned out to be an hour-long affair, and by the time he finally got ready, the apartment reeked entirely of his cologne. While he went through his lengthy ritual, I managed to watch three YouTube videos on how to load a motorcycle into a truck without wrecking it.

Eventually, Princess Cassius stood by the door, fully dressed and perfectly groomed. “Ready?”

Rolling my eyes, I closed my laptop and slid it into my bag. I glanced around my apartment and double-checked that everything was locked and off, although I’d already done so before sitting down.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing my leather bag from off the floor and slinging it over my shoulder as I stepped outside. After Cass had joined me, I flipped off the last light and closed the door.

Each time I left this place, I believed I would never be back—though this always turned out to be a lie. Outside was a big black Chevy Silverado parked along the curb. We loaded our bags in the back seat and went around to set up the truck bed for the Harley.

Luckily, the truck already had reinforced bars to support the tailgate from folding in under the Harley’s weight and a rugged metal ramp to wheel it up.

Cass waited by the truck as I approached the Harley, starting the engine before carefully easing it toward the ramp. Cass hopped up into the bed, ready to receive it. I climbed off, pushing the motorcycle steadily forward until he grabbed hold and pulled it safely in.

“That was easier than I thought,” I admitted, climbing into the bed.

Cass folded up the ramp and began adjusting the metal bars securing the tailgate. We grabbed all the ropes we had, tying them around the bike’s frame from multiple angles to ensure it wouldn’t fly off mid-drive.

Ready, we both jumped down and slammed the tailgate shut.

“This is why we should hang out more often,” Cass said, dusting off his hands. “Our brains combined actually get shit done.”

I chuckled. “Sometimes.”

We climbed into the truck, ready for the two-hour drive ahead. Cass took the driver’s seat while I sat in the passenger side. I was ready to leave this part of Glasgow behind, but part of me stayed, thinking of Freya. I knew she’d be waiting for me tonight, and she’d probably be searching for me already. But maybe some things were better when you had to wait. Waiting made you appreciate them more deeply when they finally became yours, even if only from a distance.

I knew, deep down, I was fucked up enough to just take her and lock her away for myself. But before I did anything that extreme, I needed to be certain she’d fall as hard for me as I was falling for her.

I hated the world, but for some twisted reason, I wanted her in it. Hell, maybe I wanted her to be it.