Cigarette smoke was all over the air.
There was anything but light, so much for the lamp turned on but was dimly lit. Clothes are all over the floor and the bed was humping, metals are squeaking loudly all over the room.
While Wayne was humping his hips hard and fast to the girl under him, he was enjoying the sensational pleasure he's feeling while at the same time he's trying to forget what he saw of the Lord's act of suicide.
Wayne didn't care about not winning the position anyway, but he wanted to make it clear that who he had chosen was out of his league, and so was others-secretively. He wanted to point to the Lord that Jean wasn't meant to be The Lord.
He was walking to his office and tried to open the big doors of his room but it won't budge. He closes his eyes and the lock click, he immediately opens the door.
Only to find out that he saw the Lord at the terrace, arms wide open and he was wet with rain. He just realized what was happening until Wayne saw the Lord fall by himself, committing suicide.
Wayne shouted and ran to him, trying-even it's impossible to save him, but it was too late. And he stops short.
Wayne walked to the terrace, grasps the barrier of the terrace, looking at the ground and he saw the body of Lewis. That was not the worst scenario he saw in his whole lifetime.
He shouted in pain and pleasure when the girl under him scratched his back with one hand and his butt on the other. He fucked her again until he's feeling she was about to climax. Then he let out his thing and climax.
He fell to the side of the girl and get a stick of cigarette to light up and breathes smoke and let it out long. He was still breathing hard from what he did like he had run a marathon. He was a hard asshole.
The girl's head was on his sweaty chest. He felt' nothing to the girl but disgusted and shame. Number one because later he will forget her forever and would never see her again and second, he committed something that is so grave, he wanted to rip his heart out to die from guilt.
"So, when will we do this again?" The girl or rather, the slut said.
This is a one night stand. For this night he needed companionship. Sure he has the companion of the students from the academy, but he needs a companionship that wouldn't give him some bias statement, which most of them always give to them. He prefers to be alone, but he knew he had the students to lean on.
Wayne lied down the bed to finish his stick until it burns his fingertips and he threw it somewhere. Then he stood immediately and remove the rubber sheathe from his, and also threw them somewhere. He looks around the room to search for his clothes, only to see the real ambiance of the room. The room was entirely dark and old and crappy. There wasn't much furniture in it except the classic-style mirror table, a table, and chair that could accommodate two, a small refrigerator, a small kitchen, the bedside table, the bed, and a small frame of a portrait of horses running. He saw the bed where the slut was lying and it was like about to fall down. They were fucking in a shithole. And he deserves it.
"Leaving already?" The slut whined.
He hated hearing her whine. Actually, he hated her. He saw the slut flashing the cleavage of her fake boobs as soon as he went to some club at the dirty streets. He would not want to fuck her, but she was giving an offer he could not resist, so he took it. And God should damn him because he promised not to do it again but he did it again. He wished for the lightning to struck at him and kill him to finish all these miseries. All of his lives he was living in misery, and fucking a slut would maybe forget everything.
For that, he did not answer. He wanted to get away already. He didn't even bother to talk to the girl anymore because he wasn't in the mood to talk.
He gets his wallet from his pants and fishes out a couple of dollars and throws them at the slut, which she accepted giddily.
"Thanks, hon," he heard her say.
He got his pants, be he can't seem to find his boxers and can't find his shirt. He puts his pants on without the boxers and zips up. The slut pulled him and trail her fingers to his abdomen until the shape of his deep V.
"Wow, you got a great body. I'm actually getting wet again. And I'm giving it to you for free," the slut said sexily and was about to remove his pants again.
Even if his cock twitch, he resisted. He wanted to go back to school and have a nice cup of coffee and talk to some people there.
"A Siren wouldn't keep me. I might get HIV if we did it again." He said as he buttons his pants again. His eyes crossed to see his shirt, only to see that it's been ripped into two. This girl is such an animal, he thought. That leaves him no choice but to get to school half-naked.
The girl covers herself and pouts, "Come on honey buns. I can't have HIV or Aids or even cancer. There is something you don't know about me. I'm a dangerous creature. A sexy goddamn,"-she stands and continues to speak huskily,-"fucking, and dangerous creature."
He sighed and puts his hands up the air, "I don't need this. You got what you want so we better just forget." He said as he goes to the door.
"Okay fine. You've given a chance and you…" He heard her stopped talking. He already got out when he froze her.
It will take a minute or so for the slut to be unfrozen. Annoying bitch, he thought.
-
Roberto Alfonso York or Rob as most people call him is the real Lord of the Hewlett Academy. Rob was actually to handle the academy for so long but he was always indisposed, so he came back to make his ways right. Rob had some jobs to finish.
As he got down from his limousine, he felt his luggage dropped at his side, thanking the driver for his assistance without looking at him. When he was brought in the academy, he was in awe with the style of the house that can adapt to the modern style of many mansions these days.
The mansion looks nothing but exquisite, classical, strong, and white, and light green was perfectly painted in the very details of the mansion. The lawn is very green and the fountain statue of a woman holding a jar, pouring water on the closed surface stands perfectly still at the center of the lawn, and it's always clean.
The bushes are perfectly cut and was complimenting the whole garden as it is. Rob doesn't what to say this but, he felt like it's good to be home.
He walks up the porch and opened the door without touching it and made his way in the mansion. Rob felt a rush of power going through him and breathe the familiar scent of the house. The place was never better than before. Most of the portraits of the last Lords who handled the academy remained on their last spots. Most of them were mostly women from the 1870s but in the 1900s, men started to enroll in the academy, and it had now male Lords. By the 1910s, Richard Anderson Domenici was the first male Lord of the academy, followed by another male Lord named William Cardinal in 1946. Lewis Hewlett Fitzgerald, the son of Abelard Fitzgerald and Georgia Hewlett, was third in the line, and he was elected as the Lord partially because he inherits the name of the first Lord in the academy named, Madame Constantin Josefina Hewlett. Lewis became a Lord in 1964 and left his position in 1999 to turn over the position to his adoptive son, and that is Robert Alfonso York.
Robert was born in 1970. He was adopted by Lewis Fitzgerald because somehow, his real parents didn't obviously love him because he has gift-which Lewis called it, but a curse-which Robert calls it. Robert was left on the porch of the academy when he was just a newborn baby. Robert despises his parents, his real parents more than whatever gift he has. As he grows into a young handsome child, he was taught how to fight, but nevertheless, he was scared to fight just because he didn't want to scare anyone. He wanted everyone to like him. Much to his decision on not to fight, he was bullied by some male witches.
Robert looked to other rooms, familiarizing the place that was once his home until he smelled a familiar scent. A woman's scent. And he knew who wears the smell.
He goes to the Headmistress's office and opens the big two doors of her office, only to find her working in her office table, writing something and wearing the same glasses he always sees when she was working.
"Do you have any Scotch here? If you don't, you might as well give me a kiss," Rob said loudly that his voice echoed the whole room.
Clementine got shocked when she heard the voice of her husband. Well, ex-husband to be exact. She stops what she's doing and stood up from her office chair and gave him a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Hello there, Mr. York," she clasped her hand and move around her table.
Rob look around to find that the big room which backs in 1985 when he was a teenager, used to be as the dance room. But then he was happy that Clementine has this room, "Nice place you got here. It smells lemon and lavender." He addresses.
Clementine goes to the table where her Scotch was sitting on and pours a glass for her visitor, "The staffs in this mansion clean this house three times a day. Before we wake up after we eat lunch and before we got to sleep. They disinfect this house so that this house can be avoided by the pest." She moves near him and gives the glass of Scotch whiskey to him. "And by unwanted animals."
Like you, she wanted to say. Clementine took a seat and look at her ex-husband. When they got married, he was beautiful and when they got divorced, he was still beautiful. He looks exactly the same when they first met.
Rob gives Clementine a wave of his finger, "you know I can hear your thoughts, love. But nevertheless, you still surprise me." Rob is still pleased with her smart mouth. And her red lips.
Clementine watches the sophisticated, graceful, and handsome ex-husband of hers sit across the sofa she chose from an antique shop. The whole living room set to be exact. But though the set was made to compliment the living room, set let the truck men put the whole set in her office. Thus far her office is used to be a meeting place exclusively for the Lord, Headmistress, The Council, and any other people who have a title plated on their name, considering The Lord.
She watches him look around her office. The office was before a dance room, where the party always happen in this room. But as student admissions tend to shrink more than ever, year by year, her father made her use the room as her office. At first, Clementine didn't want to have an office that was almost half of the lawn outside the mansion and wanted to give it to her father, but Lewis insisted, did not want a big office either because he was too old to walk centimeters large just to get his Scotch and walk again back to his seat and stare at the fierce fire dancing under the fireplace.
Rob looks at Lewis's portrait hanging above the fireplace. It was painted using oil pastels in each detail. The portrait looks like a picture taken from an advanced technology camera. "Dad's hanging out there." Rob smiled and looked to Clementine but when he looks at her, he saw passiveness, which made him a little bit uncomfortable, so he avoided her eyes and looked back at Lewis's portrait, "looks like he's been enjoying himself. Got younger at that picture."
"I called a professional artist to make that portrait, thank you very much. It seems that I need to call Leonardo Da Vinci back from the dead for you."
Rob faced her, "It would be much better if you called Leonardo Da Vinci back from the dead, hon." He looked at the portrait again and back to Clementine, "but he would make dad's smile mysterious like Mona Lisa's and we would think of what dad was feeling when he's being drawn. He looks happy now."
"He just had his dialysis when he was painted. I thought that for his last time I could give him something that would elapse his worry about last minutes. His worry about you Rob."
Rob sat silent, and drink his scotch, keeping his eyes at her.
"You know what Robert? I told myself that even if you come back to this academy, I wouldn't allow even the slightest point of your toe in this house, and I told myself not to dare talk to you even a letter. But because of dad, I force myself to let you in this mansion. Should you wish a happy birthday to yourself?"
Rob was still silent, feeling the tension around.
"So tell me about your trip in, where is it? Rome?" Clementine says while fishing out a stick of cigarette from the cigarette case on the table and put the cigarette to her mouth and light it up with a lighter. She breathes out smoke.
"You smoke?" Rob was surprised.
"Answer my question."
"China. The beautiful place there. We should go there-"
"We?" She snorts, "why should we travel together?"
His eyes meet hers, and they felt a familiar connection with each other. Clementine avoided his look and finishes her smoke and flick it somewhere.
"You know, if you're going to smoke you should finish it, or you're just making yourself look bad to my eyes."
"I'm not an addict like everyone you know who smokes, and why do you care anyway?"
"I want us to travel together to take terms. And I want to propose-"
Clementine stood up and wave her hand, moving back to her desk, "I am not interested in your terms. And I am not interested in your proposal whatsoever."
"You know, if you want us to reconcile, you might as well do not mind that and let your legs walk by itself to go away since you cannot do it you're on way." She turns back and walks away.
He told himself he's a failure. A bastard of his own kind. "Don't I have any chance?" Rob said, hurt is obvious in his voice.
She sits on her leather chair and scatters the papers for her work. "I still have work to do, Mr. York. Make yourself out."
He did not follow, but he was controlled by Clementine's mind control. So without his permission, he walks himself out, doesn't know where he will go.