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You were, for lack of a better word, the most beautiful girl to ever walk the halls of Easton Academy. You walked with grace, your hair framed your features perfectly even if you didn’t brush it that morning. Your robes fit your body like they were tailored specifically for you. Your eyes, they sparkled and shined, even as you cried. Even your girlfriends said you were angelic. There was something about you, with the two curly marks going down both your cheeks, with your bright smile, your laugh that could light up a room…something people loved.
Needless to say, you dealt with your fair share of confessions, suitors, proposals, and even a couple stalkers in the three years you’ve been at the Academy. The innocent confessions did not bother you, it was boys who persisted, who pushed and pushed until you reached your limit. You never lost your temper, but you did sternly dismiss a few boys who were especially difficult.
Still, there was one boy who could never upset you. As you laid in his bed during a weekend of rest, your eyes drifted back and forth from the ceiling to his look of concentration as he studied at his desk. You felt at peace. There was nothing more soothing than being in this boy’s presence. It was your favorite pastime, your addiction, really.
Oh, Rayne Ames. How you absolutely adored him.
One of his rabbits sat on your chest as you pet it absentmindedly.
“And then- Oh, you won’t believe this! Charlotte Loo, the girl in my history class, told the professor to ‘stick it’! Can you imagine? Telling off a professor like that?” you exclaimed, “I think I would just about die!”
“Some parents never told their children about respect, it seems,” he hummed, signing off on the bottom of a piece of parchment before adding it to the couple inch high stack to the side. “Although, sometimes, a bit of disobedience could be warranted.”
“You would never.”
“If the situation called for it, perhaps I would.”
You smirked, placing a bunny onto the bed so you could roll onto your side to face him, propping your head up in your calm. “I think I’d like to see a bit of Rayne the rule breaker sometime.”
“Good luck with that.”
You pouted, tossing a bit of paper from your pocket at him, hitting it square in the forehead. His scowl was faux as he glared at you with those stunning golden eyes. He didn’t mind if you pestered him a bit. You were one of the only people he had any patience with. Everyone else annoyed him, bothered him, or just angered him. He had enough history with you that some of the more bothersome traits you had did not phase him anymore. Instead, he was almost endeared by them.
“Can we go do something fun? It’s Saturday. Surely, you can take a short break from your work?”
He sighed, placing down his pen. “Where would you suggest we go?”
You laughed nervously, fiddling with a loose string on his comforter. It wasn’t like he would be upset with you regardless of where you chose, but you always felt shy asking such things of him. It was a lot to ask him to pause work for a few hours to go do something stupid or silly, something completely unnecessary to fill your need for adventure.
“Perhaps we could stop at that coffee shop we like…and then the record store?”
He rolled his eyes. Those were your favorite places. He could have figured as much. He only liked that coffee shop because you loved it. He didn’t even like coffee all that much. Did he want to go? No, not particularly. Did he want to make you happy even if it inconvenienced him, unfortunately yes. It was no exaggeration that he would do just about anything for you short of killing someone. Even then, he would have to think about it.
He’d never let you know that though. How embarrassing that would be.
“Just this once. And only for an hour.” Just like he’s said all the other times. Yeah, right.
You clapped your hands together happily, sitting up in the bed and straightening the neckline of your dress. He had to avert his eyes, for the sake of your decency. Definitely not because it made him a little excited to see you exposed a tiny bit in your frilly blue dress that you loved to wear on the weekends when class wasn’t in session. When it was winter, you wore sweaters and tights under your skirts. In the spring, like now, you wore these adorable dresses that he found turned his ears red and heat to rise up his neck.
Fuck, you were so cute, just like one of his rabbits. It was astounding to him. He had never thought this way about another classmate. It sickened him. It excited him. It confused him to no end.
Quickly, he shook his head in an attempt to dismiss the thoughts. You stood up and went to slip on your shoes, grabbing your purse as well. Not that you would be using it; he would cover whatever expenses. You’d fight him, but he actually had a salary being a Divine Visionary. You were still a broke 17 year old from a normal peasant family, to put it bluntly.
He shuffled his unfinished paperwork into a pile before standing, going to throw on his cardigan. You were practically bouncing on your heels at the thought of going out for the day, and he couldn’t help but crack a small smile, only for a second. Not long enough for you to see. He couldn’t let on that you made him soft. As far as you knew, only rabbits could do that.
The two of you walked the halls silently, but it was a comfortable silence. Your flats tapping softly on the stone floors, the only disturbance being other students walking by momentarily. When a boy walked by, their eyes would draw onto you. They usually did, especially if they were first or second years. You were cute, but you were his, and they needed to know that.
He would glare at them, so deeply and intensely that they would usually scurry away with their tails between their legs. You were not dating, but he refused to share you. He was so selfish; acted so entitled for something that did not belong to him.
As far as he knew, you didn’t notice his glares. Your head was focused on the destination, and the sweet vanilla latte you would order, complete with a slice of banana cake. Always the same, but you acted like it was your first time discovering something so delicious.
He opened the door to the cafe for you when you got there, a little brass bell ringing out to signal someone had arrived. The usual waitress waved with a bright white grin, motioning the two of you to take your regular seats in the round booth by the corner window. He always let you in first, sliding in beside you when you’d settled in with your purse resting on the spot beside you. That only left a little space between the two of you, about six inches, but it was enough that your elbows brushed when you shifted in your seat.
He loved that.
“The usual?” the waitress asked, and you nodded.
“Extra sugar, please,” you’d chime, despite everyone there knowing about your tastes for sugar cubes. It was because of how sweet you were, he thought. Sugar for his sugar, Max would tease him when they were alone in their dorm at night. He would groan and roll over to face the wall, but secretly, his heart skipped a beat.
“And for you, Mister Ames?” Because he always got something different.
“Can I get a Matcha latte today? And a slice of carrot cake?” She wrote the order on her little notepad before strolling behind the counter and telling the barista what to prepare. His brows raised when he heard your little voice giggling beside him. When he looked at you, your hand was covering your mouth, but your eyes showed that you were smiling. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re just like your rabbits. A grass latte and a cake made of carrots. So adorable,” you told him, and despite his calm demeanor, he was burning up inside. Him? Adorable? You had to be under some kind of spell.
The food was out shortly, and you cheered, “So yummy.” You took a sip of your latte first, and then a bite of your banana cake. He never tried it, but he had to admit, it looked good, albeit very very sweet. Bananas, caramel, cake, and buttercream. An addictive combination.
After seeing him eye down your dessert, you scooped up a hefty portion on your spoon and held it out to him. Rayne looked at you as if you had two heads. You just ate off that spoon. He couldn’t possibly do the same. It was scandalous. Embarrassing. Almost intimate…
“Come on,” you urged, that sickly sweet, sugary smile on your soft lips. “I know you want to try it.”
“Y/N,” he started, but once he opened his mouth, you pushed the spoon between his lips. He saw the look of glee and anticipation on your face while you waited for him to give you his opinion. He was just too shaken by the thought of your spoon in his mouth to say anything immediately. He averted his eyes and swallowed thickly, choking down his embarrassment. It was like you kissed him. Indirectly, of course, but even so…He couldn’t handle it.
He could even taste a little bit of strawberry lip gloss. Fucking hell.
“It’s just so delicious! Don’t you agree?”
It was good. He could admit that much even in his shock. “Yes, very good.”
“Do you mind if I try a little bit of your carrot cake? I won’t take much, I promise.”
He would give you his entire cake if you asked for it. Hell, he would give you his entire person, you just had to say the word.
“Go ahead.”
You used the same damn spoon and took a tiny bit of his cake for yourself. Your eyes lit up so bright at the taste and you squealed. “Soooo good. You have amazing taste, R-Rayne.” Now you were all in his mouth and on his cake, and he felt himself wanting to drift away to avoid his emotions.
Little did he know, you were freaking out. You totally took an indirect kiss from him on purpose. You got him to eat off your spoon and then you had some of his cake with the same spoon! His spoon! And, oh boy, you felt so high you might just be flying. You worried he might hear your heart beating so fast in your chest, or the way your voice faltered just a bit when you praised his taste in cake flavors.
In your imagination, you pretended this was a date between two lovers. Sharing desserts, sitting so close that you could just lean over and kiss him if you wanted. You were even wearing your nicest clothes and shiny, glittery lip gloss just in case the occasion arose.
“Thanks,” he muttered as he took a slip of his matcha, trying to calm down a bit so you didn’t notice anything amiss. You two sat and talked casually for a while as you finished your drinks and cakes, about anything from his work to your gossip. Apparently a boy in Orca kissed his roommate, they were dating now, and it was some big news around the school. You said he must be deaf if he hadn’t heard about it, but he only thought about three things: work, rabbits, and you.
He paid for the meal when you ran off to use the bathroom. The waitress smiled warmly when she handed him the check. “You’re such a gentleman. Y/N’s so lucky to have you.”
He blushed, shaking his head firmly. ‘We’re only friends.”
“Regardless, you two are very fortunate to have found each other. I wish someone loved me as much as you two love each other.”
He paid her what was owed without saying anything else. He was too flustered, too overwhelmed. Did it seem like the two of you loved each other? Sure, you were great friends, but love? It was out of the question. You had boys fall to their knees everyday just for your attention. He was the lucky one getting any attention from you at all, much less excursions out to town on the weekends, dinners in the hall together, and late night talks in his dorm.
As you walked back and saw him gathering up your things to leave, you pouted. With your hands on your hips, you whined, “But Rayne, you always pay the bill!”
And I will continue to do so, he thought.
“Let’s go to the record store. They’re going to close in 45 minutes, you know.”
You jumped at that, following him out the cafe doors and down the cobblestone road to the tiny little music store you frequented. He held the door open for you again, watching as you rushed in and ran to the section that he learned to be your favorite.
The owner of the store smiled and greeted you both, his black mustache curled at the edges into a smile in itself.
You flipped through the dozens of records in the cardboard boxes in front of you, looking for something but nothing. You always told him when he asked that you knew what music you wanted only when you found it, never before.
He hovered behind you with his hands in his pockets, observing the people in the room. Mostly older folks, but a couple younger people there. No one from Easton that he recognized.
“What do you think between these two? Can’t quite decide,” you asked him over your shoulder, holding up two records. He had no clue. “One is a bit somber, but the other is more upbeat.”
“Well, you usually choose upbeat, so maybe something different this time.”
“You know what? You’re right. Let’s go with this one for today. Give me a second to pay and then we will head back to school, okay?”
“I’ll be outside.”
He left the store to let you pay and probably have a short conversation with the owner about the album you picked today. Rayne didn’t know too much about music so he couldn’t really discuss that hobby with you. He wandered down the street a little ways to look into the windows of a bookstore with some magic textbooks he hadn’t seen before. He didn’t notice the time that went by before an older woman’s shout interrupted his thoughts.
“Now you boys leave that poor girl alone!” she exclaimed, and his eyes immediately left the window to meet the scene only fifteen yards away.
You, his Y/N, stood with your wand raised at a group of older guys, your back pressed against the wall of the store while these-these barbarians surrounded you like wolves to their prey. The older woman with her cane and hunched back stood outside of her fruit stall, waving the end of her cane at the commotion.
It took about a second for him to approach. You were out of breath, cheeks flushed and hair falling from your ponytail.
“Now listen, I don’t want to hurt any of you, but you better leave me the hell alone. I won’t argue any longer,” you warned, but you were shaking and hesitant. Rayne knew you. He knew you would never hurt anyone, not unless they really warranted it. You were so desperate to see the good in everyone, so desperate for peace and happiness that you forgot that some people are bad. Downright despicable and dirty.
One of the guys, supposedly the leader considering he was in the front, swatted your wand from your hand and it clattered to the ground out of your reach.
“What are you gonna do now, bitch? Last time you were here, you led my brother Tobias on with your tits out and-”
“Three Percent Partition.” And suddenly, three golden swords sliced through the group of boys, narrowly avoiding them. They screamed and jumped away, running for their lives into the street. Eyes turned to Rayne, standing there with his wand pointed clearly at them, a cold stare reaching each one of them with a malice you rarely saw from him. Sometimes, you forgot why your friend was a Divine Visionary, why he was so scary to everyone but a select few.
“Man, what the fuck? You didn’t tell us a Divine Visionary was here,” One of the delinquents yelled out at you, and you winced, shrinking further into yourself against the wall. You were happy he saved you, but really just wanted this to be over. For them to leave, and for you to never hear their voices again.
“This is bullshit. Let’s get out of here.” With that, they took off down the street.
The older lady called out to the two of you. “My, my. What disgusting young men. You take care now, girl. Make sure she gets home safe, Mister Ames.”
With slumped shoulders, you grabbed for your wand, which was now cracked from being thrown so hard. So much for that wand, you thought to yourself. You would have to go buy another one tomorrow when the shops opened and before school started back up on Monday.
You wouldn’t look at Rayne, instead, your eyes trailed to the ground, focusing on the toes of your white shoes, which were now scuffed with dirt.
“Y/N, why didn’t you call for me. I was right down the street-” he started to say, but was cut off by your broken voice, cracking on the verge of a sob.
“I swear, Rayne. I promise, I wasn’t here leading on that guy’s brother. I-I would never, ever act like that,” you cried, “Please, don’t think less of me.”
And for probably the first time that day, was he truly stunned into complete silence. That is what you were upset over? That is why you were crying and wouldn’t look at him? You pressed your palms to your eyes to hide the tears that were falling so rapidly down your cheeks and you took in shallow breaths to hide your whimpering.
He felt like a monster. He felt like the worst friend in the world as he stood there watching you shiver and sob.
Did you really think he would judge you? Why would he ever believe some losers that would gang up on a teenage girl in the street all alone over you, an actual angelic being who he was utterly infatuated with? If that’s what you thought of him, he would never forgive himself for his past actions, whatever might have led you to believe he would ever judge you like that.
“Y/N,” he paused, thinking about how he wanted to say this, “Come here.”
You shook your head, refusing to move, to even lift your eyes to look at him. You just cried. “Rayne, I-I swear-”
Before you could say anything else, beg to him like you were some sort of dog being scolded, he grabbed your cheeks in his hands and lifted your head so you were forced to look at him. Your eyes, the ones that sparkled and shined so brightly were dull, soaked and red from salty tears. His heart continued to break when your eyes met his and they were filled with a furious storm of fear, shame, and guilt.
“Y/N, I could never think less of you. I’d be a fool to believe the words of some low lives such as them,” he told you quietly, but firmly enough that you felt inclined to believe him completely.
Your bottom lip quivered as you looked up at him, so vulnerable and weak in his strong hands. “Are you sure?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been. You are perfect to me.” Perfect for me, he almost said, but kept that to himself. This wasn’t the time. Not the moment to let it slip exactly how much he wanted you, craved you in a way he thought was inhuman.
“Oh, Rayne,” you sobbed, falling into his arms, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist while your tears soaked into his white shirt. He hugged you back, like you were going to be stolen away from him if he ever let go.
He wanted to tell you everything: how he loved you, how he would die for you, how he needed you like he needed water to drink and air to breathe.
He refrained. Ignoring what the waitress said to him earlier, or how Max taunted him about how you fit together like pieces of a puzzle, or how a million people could tell him right now to confess to you, he just couldn’t take the leap.
Rayne Ames was scared.
_________
It was another one of those days, when a particular boy would not leave you alone. This time it was an Orca student. He had insisted on walking you to and from your classes all day. He spent his time talking about how his ex-girlfriend was nothing compared to you. How she, a girl you happened to know and actually like, was annoying and bitchy while you were perfect.
It irritated you to no end, the way these men felt like putting down other women would somehow cause you to swoon. If he was so willing to talk about other girls that way, what’s to say he would ever respect you? If he would talk badly about you if you so graciously gave him a chance?
“Stephen,” you started, stopping midway through the hall to your dorm, finally having had enough of this nonsense. “You need to turn around and go back to your dorm.”
“What? I thought we were going to dinner together! Come on, it’ll be fun, yeah?”
You tried to smile, as that was something that came naturally to you. You hated to frown, you hated to scowl or scoff. It didn’t feel right. You wanted nothing more than to be content and happy, kind to everyone.
“Like I told you before, I’m having dinner with my friends-”
“Are you saying I’m not your friend?” he laughed, “I know you wanna be more than friends, but I’d think a girl like you would wanna take it slow, heh.” His greasy hair fell into his face and he brushed it away haphazardly. “I like ‘em a little slutty, though.”
You nearly gagged at his words. So bold today, you thought to yourself, wondering where he found his audacity.
Before you could say anything else, you felt an arm wrap loosely around your shoulders, warm and comforting unlike the hungry and cold gaze of Stephen. Immediately, you watched that smirk on the boy’s face turn down into a straight line, a grimace of sorts.
“Hey, Y/N. You’re late to supper. Rayne and I were worried about you,” the sweet, gentle voice of your friend, Max Land, rang out through the nearly empty hallway. You peered up at the brunette at your side, your smile contrasting the annoyance and anger in your tired eyes.
That was one thing you had on your side. A divine Visionary and his best friend to save you when you didn’t quite feel like making a scene. Max was particularly good at being casual, spotting when a situation was making you uncomfortable and swooping in to save the day. The same could not be said for Rayne, who would send glares that felt like daggers into the pesky underclassmen bothering you, and tell them to run before he used his Partition on them.
“Max! I was just finishing up talking to Stephen here before heading to the dining hall. Isn’t that right?” you chirped to the black haired boy in front of you two. His cheeks turned red and he nodded sheepishly. “Let’s get going. I’m starving!”
The two of you turned and started in the direction of the dorms so you could drop off your heavy bags then head to the dining hall to eat something no doubt magically delicious. Max let his arm fall from your shoulders, preferring to shove his hand deep into his pockets and stroll. A sigh of relief left your lips and you bumped your shoulder against his.
“Thanks back there. He had been bothering me all day! I swear, they never get the hint.”
He nodded, but there was a bit of concern in his expression as he furrowed his brows and the smile never quite lifted on the edges of his lips. “What was that last thing he was saying to you? About you not taking it slow? The, uh, slut thing?”
“Typical boy talk. They always think girls will just fall over themselves for a date.”
“It’s condescending. I get what Rayne says about you dealing with so much bullshit,” he put it bluntly, something you always danced around. You didn’t want to believe that people could be so shallow or so rude. It was human nature, yes, especially around a bunch of hormonal teenage boys, but you didn’t want to lose your faith in your classmates. Perhaps you lived in denial, but it was blissful ignorance.
You hugged your bag strap closer to your chest, and sighed, biting your lip. Your eyes trailed up to one of your closest friends, and silently you pleaded through them. “Don’t mention this to Rayne. He doesn’t need to worry about me anymore. After that incident in town, I don’t know what he’d do.”
You always worried about the older Ames brother and how he would step out of line to defend you. Yet, you were a two marker. You didn’t need his protection. You yourself had obtained a gold coin, not enough to warrant you participate in the selection exam, but enough to prove you were strong. Stronger than most would assume, in fact.
Still, the second he got wind of you being stalked or harassed, he would become…frightening.
Max rolled his eyes. “You know that Rayne will find out whether you or I want him to or not.”
You both stopped at your dorm, where you unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding up a finger to assure you would only be a minute.
Once you entered your room, you threw your bag onto your bed before grabbing both your cheeks with your hands. You wanted to scream. Every time Rayne worried about you, it took away time from his important work at a Bureau that he was always talking about. It made you feel so guilty, and your heart ached at the thought of him finding out about such crude talk about you yet again.
Maybe you felt bad taking up his time, but maybe you just felt ashamed having those rumors about you running about. That you were supposedly easy, that you would flatter any guy no matter who, that you had numerous side pieces. What did Rayne really think?
Did it gross him out? The thought of you talking to other guys? The thought of you flirting indiscriminately with trash? He assured you that he didn’t heed any mind to the rumors, but how many does one person hear before you start to believe it at least a little bit.
You shook your head. Rayne was a good guy. He would never shame you, much less for silly rumors such as these. He was your friend, your best friend. If he didn’t like you, he would have said so long ago. He was always so blunt, after all.
Quickly in the mirror, you brushed down your locks with your fingers to look somewhat presentable, straightened your robes, and smeared some gloss over your lips.
Yes, you did want to look cute. Not just for anyone though. Only the subject of your anxiety at the moment.
Why you always subconsciously make yourself look better for him wasn’t much of a mystery. He was the first guy, out of hundreds you’d come across, out of the dozens and dozens to ask you out, that you actually liked. How could you not?
At first, you did think he was just a normal magic user, albeit very strong. When second year rolled around, you found yourself adjusting your clothes around him, pinching your cheeks to bring color to your skin tone, wearing mascara and lip gloss to classes you had with him. It was absurd, really. Yet, third year continues to roll by and you still try so hard to impress him.
He never says anything about your looks. That’s not like him. You just hope, deep down, he notices. He says your magic is improving. It’s even impressive, he will say. He’ll compliment your test scores and your coins and your broom skills. He’ll compliment the way you pet his rabbits so gently, almost like you're touching a cloud.
Yet, it’s like he doesn’t actually see you.
Furiously, you pat your cheeks and glare at yourself in the mirror. You can do this. It’s just Rayne. Your friend. Nothing more nothing less, even if you kind of sort of loved him. Not to mention Max would be there to dispel any awkwardness you might cause.
With a manufactured smile, to hide the nervousness you felt, you stepped out into the hall again. Max was leaning against the wall patiently, and his eyes lifted from the floor to meet yours.
“What’s wrong, Y/N? That guy? If you want, I can-”
You waved away his words, averting your eyes to the floor. “He’s irrelevant, really. It’s um, personal problems, I guess.”
“You wanna talk about it?”
It was like you were fighting with yourself. You didn’t want to say anything, to reveal your most personal thoughts and feelings to Max, even if he was a good friend, a trustworthy friend. Having a crush, it felt so pathetic. Pathetic to sit around for years waiting with no progress in sight.
Yet, you felt yourself bursting at the seams wanting to get your worries off your chest, to tell someone, anyone, what you felt, how it was ruining your life.
“Rayne.”
His brow quirked, attention completely on you at the mention of their elusive mutual friend. “What about Rayne?”
“Does he…Has he ever had a crush on-fuck, I don’t know-a girl or something?” A girl or something ? You cursed yourself for speaking so ineloquently when in the heat of emotion. You felt the heat burning your cheeks and your throat was closing up from being so impulsive. “You’re his best friend, Max, and you’re a guy. Surely he’s mentioned someone to you.”
“Rayne would kill me if I said anything. You know him,” he mumbled nervously, a quiet chuckle under his breath. “But, uh, yeah, he talks. A lot.”
A lot , you screamed in your head. Rayne Ames, the emotionless, serious, forever single Divine Visionary, talked about someone. He liked someone.
Oh God, you felt yourself growing light headed.
“You’re kidding.”
“No. He likes this one girl…a fuck ton. Like, you wouldn’t even believe.”
Your stomach lurched violently, and despite not having dinner, you felt vomit rise in your throat from a meal hours ago. Quickly, you pressed your hand to your mouth before dashing into your dorm. Once you made it into the bathroom, your stomach emptied into the toilet.
Max ran in after you, crouching down beside you. He gathered your hair in his hands and held it away from your face as you retched into the porcelain bowl over and over again until your throat was sore and your chest ached.
“Hell, Y/N, are you alright?”
“I-I must have gotten a stomach bug or something, damn,” you obviously lied. You knew he knew that you were lying, but you were not going to admit that the thought of Rayne with someone else made you sick like that. Such a visceral reaction because of a simple crush? How silly could you be?
He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course,” he said calmly. You stood at the sink now, rinsing off your mouth and swishing water around to get rid of the bitter taste covering your teeth. “Let’s skip dinner tonight. You’re not in the right state to uh,” be around Rayne, “eat a hearty meal.”
Until your roommate came back from dinner, he sat beside your bed while you curled up in a ball facing the wall, not wanting to talk much. Your mind was on other things. How could Rayne like someone else? You spent so much time together. He protected you. He followed you around no matter what ridiculous stuff you wanted to do. He ate off your spoon. He let you play with his rabbits and pick out his day clothes when you went out together. He bought you lunch every weekend. He helped you pick your records and you wore makeup for him. He let you hug him and he cradled your face in his hands like you were precious to him.
He called you perfect.
And he liked someone else.
Max wished he could tell you the more specific truth, but he had sworn not to. He couldn’t betray Rayne like that. With time, Rayne would come around to accepting and confessing his feelings to you, and it was absolutely not his roommate’s place to take that upon himself.
He felt terrible for saying anything in the first place, but he honestly did not expect this sort of reaction from you. It legitimately scared him. He was scared that heartbreak was going to make you throw up your lungs.
“Y/N, are you gonna be okay if I go back to my dorm for the night?” he asked when your roommate entered the room, a quizzical look on her face seeing a boy in her room so late. You just nodded slightly and curled further in on yourself, clutching the blanket over your chest to ease the burn in your heart.
For someone so graceful and “perfect”, you sure were a disaster.
_____________
“Where were you? Where was Y/N?”
Not even a second after slipping through the door to his dorm did that accusatory voice ring out through the room. Max cringed. How was he going to deal with this? Y/N was simple. A hug and a few kind words and she was stable at least. Rayne, on the other hand, took a bit of work.
“She’s sick. Too sick for dinner. I stayed with her until her roommate came back,” he said, which was the truth. He wasn’t lying about that part.
“Sick? And you didn’t take her to the infirmary?” Rayne asked, as if it were the most incredulous thing anyone had ever said to him. “She’s in her dorm? I’m going there-”
Max reached out his hand and stopped his friend from leaving the dorm. “Rayne, man, just stop. You’re not gonna help the situation, trust me.”
Rayne couldn’t understand. Why couldn’t he go make sure you were better, or take you to the infirmary for treatment? He could even give you his handkerchief to heal any ailments you might have. He tried to push against his friend’s hand, but Max wasn’t budging this time. He stared down the brunette, silently commanding him to explain what he meant by his words.
“Look, it’s been a long night. When I found her, things weren’t going well and I kind of fucked it up even more. She’s not actually sick, just really, really upset,” he explained.
He didn’t want to say what actually happened. Not only would he have to preface with what that guy said to you, but then he would have to reveal that he is the real reason you didn’t come to dinner, that you were throwing up for 20 minutes, and now catatonic in your bed.
“What happened? Tell me now, Land.”
“Rayne.”
“I won’t hesitate-”
“Fine, fine, but don’t yell at me, alright? I did my best here,” he sighed, finally going to sink down on the edge of his bed, his hands clasped in his lap. “When I found her, this guy from Orca house was really bothering her. He was saying some nasty stuff about her being slutty or whatever.” He could now feel the rage pooling in the room, and it only felt more tense when he continued with the story. “I kind of steered her away from the conversation and brought her to her dorm to drop off her stuff.”
“That guy will pay for what he said. Making her upset like this-”
“Actually, uh, she didn’t really care about that too much. It was um, what we talked about after.”
It was silent for a long moment, giving Max the nod to keep going, no matter how nervous he was becoming.
“She went into her room for a minute and then when she came back out, she asked me something weird. You probably don’t want to hear it-”
“I do.”
“Well, she asked me if you ever talked about, ahem, crushes on anyone. If you liked any girls here at Easton. And you see, I didn’t want to tell her your secret because bro code, you know, so I just told her you like someone. That you talk about this girl a lot and stuff. I didn’t say it was her, I promise. I didn’t even hint at it.”
“Max, are you stupid or something?”
“I thought it would be fine, but then she ran into her room and just puked for like 20 minutes! She said she was sick with a bug, but you know she’s a terrible liar.”
It was quiet for a moment, but the tension was so thick, you could slice it with a knife. Rayne paced through the room, running a hand through his hair anxiously, worriedly. What was he to make of this? Why would you be so sick from finding out a stupid thing like he had a crush. He wanted to gag at the thought of himself falling prey to a crush, but he couldn’t deny it was very true.
He had very strong feelings for you. You were perfect. Smart, talented, gentle, kind, thoughtful, independent, and geez, were you the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. You ticked every single box, and yet, you exceeded his every expectation. He found himself weak in the knees when you smiled at him, a real smile, or when you laughed at his dry humor and it felt like he’d received the most precious gift in the entire world.
He was rightfully obsessed with you, as was every other guy at the school, but he was down bad . So bad, he actually talked about you nightly to Max. So bad he nearly shit himself when someone as pretty and hypnotizing as you approached him in first year asking about the life cycle of the average pet rabbit.
“Why would she get so sick because of that?”
“Rayne, she was jealous. She thinks you’re in love with some random girl, but she clearly wants you for herself.”
He hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. You reciprocating his feelings? You were completely unobtainable in his eyes, just a friend never more. The tips of his ears began turning red, and he covered his eyes with his hand. “Max, how sure of this are you?”
“I’d say like 99 percent. The other one percent is that she’s a lesbian.”
The thought of you being a lesbian seemed better than you ever marrying some other guy. But this was no time for jokes. If you really loved him, he had to come up with a plan to confess to you. He didn’t care about taking a step away from his responsibilities if it meant finally having you all to himself. He would make it work. No matter how busy he was, he would make it work if it meant having you to hold and touch and…God, maybe kiss if he was lucky.
“I am going to give her the night to rest, but tomorrow, I’ll fix this.”
“Oh boy.”
___________
And…you were avoiding him. According to your sassy roommate, you didn’t want to see him and, in her opinion, he should leave you alone forever and “don’t even dare think about her, Ames”. A bit dramatic of her, but she most likely thought she was doing what was best for you. During class, you refused to look at him, even when he stared at you for half of it. During lunch, you ate in a classroom alone where he couldn’t find you.
He finally cornered you during study period, when you dropped your books in the hallway and stopped to pick them up. He grabbed your textbook and clutched it closely to his chest, not letting you get it without acknowledging him.
“Rayne, please, can I have my book?” you asked quietly, your eyes never quite reaching his.
“No.”
“No?”
“Not until we talk about what Max told you last night.”
You audibly gulped, feeling your palms beginning to sweat. He was intimidating in a way that didn’t allow you to run away, even if you were scared for your life with him staring you down like a rabbit does a carrot. In an effort to comfort yourself, you hugged your cloak around yourself, like wrapping yourself in a blanket.
You did the only thing you could think of. Beg for mercy. “Rayne, please don’t make me.” Your words were pathetically desperate, seeking an easy way out from this terrible conversation to come.
“What Max told you last night, about me having a…crush, is true. I am in love.”
Tears bubbled up so quickly in your eyes that you couldn’t blink them away. They dripped down your cheeks suddenly, hot and burning against your soft cheeks. With eyes squeezed shut, you held your breath to keep from sobbing.
He loved someone else. Rayne Ames, the boy you always thought was untouchable for anyone, was in love. He gushed to his friend about a girl and never told you a thing about it. It felt unfair. You felt disgusting. Was it because of the rumors about you? The boys that called you names and teased you and taunted you? Had they turned Rayne off from ever loving you?
A wonderful man like Rayne would never be interested in someone like you. You were stupid for ever thinking he might.
“Stop it, Rayne. You’re breaking my heart. Don’t be so cruel.”
“Wait-”
“Wait for what? For you to tell me about this girl you love and how you could never love me? I-I don’t want to hear it,” you sobbed. “My heart can’t handle it. Keep the book, I have to go.”
He grabbed your waist and pulled you back to stand in front of him. Your waist felt like it was lit on fire from his intimate touch, but he didn’t pull away. His hand shook subtly from nerves, and he had to swallow down his hesitancy to spill his feelings for you. He couldn’t possibly let you run away. Not now. Not ever.
“How can you be so beautiful even when you cry?” he whispered, his head tilted down to gaze at your face. Your eyes sparkled with tears, cheeks stained with wet lines all the way down to your chin. Your lips quivered. Your brows were furrowed so deeply, he swore he’d never seen you look so broken as he has this past week. Yet, you were still mesmerizing.
Your mouth fell open at his words, too surprised to comprehend what was happening, what he meant by that question. No words came out, only quiet gasps to catch your breath. Still, his cheeks were beginning to turn pink, and his eyes were so gentle, so sweet and caring it nearly made you melt.
“I-I don’t know,” was the only thing you could manage to say.
“I’ve never been in love before, Y/N. Forgive me for my mistakes.”
And in that moment, it started to click for you. Max was talking about you. It was you the whole time.
You breathed, “I’ll always forgive you.”
“I suppose this is the moment, I tell you how desperately in love with you I am,” he confessed. “Perhaps I’m just one in a million men to tell you that, but I hope you give me a chance.”
“Rayne Ames, I am going to kiss you, okay?”
“Please.”
Your hands went to his neck, cradling him in both hands while you leaned up to gingerly press your lips to his. He was warm against you, so warm and so gentle. So perfect. The hand he had on your waist tugged you closer, pressing your chest to his. He let the book he was holding drop to the floor with a thud so he could bring his other hand up to cradle your jaw.
Rayne, he’d never kissed anyone before. You had, but this was completely different. You’d never loved a boy, never experienced kissing him with all the love and passion you had to offer. Softly, you parted your lips and deepened the kiss, wringing your hands through his blond and black hair, pulling him closer until your nose pressed to his cheek.
He sighed softly into your mouth, and you smiled. With a final peck to his lips, you pulled away and looked up through your lashes at him. His eyes were still shut and his cheeks were a tomato red. “I love you, too,” you whispered so quietly only he could hear.
“I fear you’re my affliction, Y/N,” he mumbled, intoxicated by the kiss. His thumb ran down your jaw like a feather on the skin. His eyes met yours and he smiled, a real one complete with small freckles that matched his brothers doting his rosy cheeks. You giggled, so happy you felt you might float away.
You were late for study hall, but that didn’t matter. You just pulled him down once more and melted into a kiss well worth two years of pining.