Persephone's Point of View
♕︎ ♕︎ ♕︎
Pride-Niklaus' voice dropped to a low whisper, just loud enough for me to catch every single word. His proximity was so close that I could feel his breath on my skin, and his deep, raspy tone seemed to weave its way into me, seeping through the air and wrapping around me like a suffocating fog. It was all I could do not to tense up at the nearness, his words practically vibrating against my chest.
"There won't be any group works this year, Scarlet," he started, his amethyst eyes locking onto mine with such intensity that my breath hitched. The weight of his gaze was like a physical force, pressing down on me. "It'll all be in these set duos, with the trio in the back being the only exception. They'll also be testing us in a completely different manner this year, with two steps: first, on pairs, and then individually. So," he continued, leaning in just a fraction closer, his tone sharpening with that familiar arrogance, "we'll have to suck this animosity up and try to work together. Because I have no intention of losing my top spot in the Academy ranking, and I'm pretty sure you don't want that for yourself either, right? Got it, Scarlet?"
What in the absolute hell were the headmasters thinking? This entire situation, this forced pairing, was beyond absurd. I could barely process the words as they swirled in my mind. The idea of having to work with him—the person I despised more than anyone else in the room—was preposterous.
I clenched my jaw so tightly that my teeth creaked, my hands twitching as if they might reach out and shove him. "This is absurd," I muttered under my breath, my voice low but cutting through the tension that hung in the air. The words felt like a blade in the stillness. As I glanced over at Professor Ophelia, who was still droning on at the front of the class, blissfully unaware of the disaster unfolding in the back row, my rage only deepened. "Ab-fucking-surd," I repeated, unable to stop myself from emphasizing just how insane this entire setup was.
"You really are addicted to that word, aren't you, Scarlet?" Pride-Niklaus' voice cut through my thoughts, smug and taunting. He sounded so pleased with himself, the kind of satisfaction that made my skin crawl, and I hated it. His lips twisted into that infuriating grin of his, like he had just scored a point in some silent game we were both playing without my consent.
I shot him a sideways glare, my patience wearing thinner by the second. "Excuse me?" I snapped, my voice sharp and dripping with annoyance, my every word heavy with the frustration I was desperately trying to control.
He leaned in slightly closer, lowering his voice to a near-conspiratorial whisper, like he was about to reveal some great, dark secret. "Fucking," he murmured, and the way the word rolled off his tongue sounded almost too unholy coming from him. There was something dangerously seductive in the way he said it—slow, deliberate, and far too sensual for comfort. The sound of it sent a rush of heat to my face, a burn that I could not control, no matter how much I wanted to. It infuriated me. "You say that a lot, you know. Fuck and fucker, especially when you talk to me. Why is that? Is it some kind of cryptic message for me or something?"
I could barely believe what was happening right now. This was not the conversation I wanted to have with _him_. Ever. I swallowed my irritation, trying to keep my voice steady despite the surge of anger building inside me. "I simply cannot help but curse at you," I shot back, my words tight, biting. "Nothing cryptic, alright? And I wonder why you're asking. Are you trying to tell me something with all these questions, or is this just some weird game of yours?"
His pupils widened, darkened, and the mischievous glint in his eyes sharpened, if that was even possible. His lips curled into a smirk as he inhaled deeply, his breath exhaling in a low, almost hypnotic whisper. "You're not ready for the answer," he purred, and those words… those words had such weight to them that they sent a shiver down my spine. I couldn't look away, my heart pounding as I wondered just what the hell he meant by that.
What did he mean by 'not read'? I frowned, my mind racing to make sense of it all. "Even if I were ready for it," I said, my voice strained, "I'd prefer you not tell me anything about it." I turned my head, my gaze slipping away from his intense stare as if physically distancing myself could somehow make this nightmare less real. "Ever."
He chuckled darkly, the sound rolling out of him like a low rumble of thunder. It was the kind of laugh that made you think something was terribly wrong with the world, that something dangerous was looming just beneath the surface. "Keep telling yourself that, Scarlet," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Maybe, just maybe, you'll convince yourself of it." His tone was smooth, confident, like he knew something I didn't—and I hated it.
I gritted my teeth so hard I thought my jaw might snap, my body tensing as I fought the urge to do something reckless—like throwing myself at him, or strangling him with my bare hands. He had this way of getting under my skin, of controlling the atmosphere with nothing more than his voice and his presence. This entire situation was a damn nightmare. And somehow, I was stuck in the middle of it.
His voice, still dripping with sarcasm and amusement, sliced through my thoughts like a knife. "Regardless of anything, we are stuck together for the rest of the year, whether you like it or not," he continued, his words oozing with smug satisfaction. "We'll have to work on everything academically together. So you better get your pretty head out of your pretty arse and focus on what's important for you."
I blinked, processing his words, and then my mind reeled at the casual, almost insultingly confident way he'd said that. Did he seriously just compliment me? What the hell was wrong with him? Was he really looking at me like that? With some sort of… admiration?
My stomach twisted at the thought, and I immediately regretted even entertaining it. "I do not need you to tell me what to do, Pride-Niklaus," I snapped, my voice rising a bit more than I intended. I wasn't about to let him push me around, not even a little bit. Not now. Not ever.
I could feel him smirking at me without even having to look. Of course, he was. This was exactly the kind of power struggle he thrived on, and I was more than happy to resist. At least, I told myself that.
"There's one more thing they told us Captains, Scarlet," he purred, his voice dripping with that smug amusement that had started to drive me insane.
I didn't want to know what other nonsense he was about to reveal, but the words slipped out of me before I could stop them. "What is it now?" I hissed, my voice sharp with frustration. I had a sinking feeling that whatever he was about to say, it was just going to make this entire ordeal even worse.
"As the Captains are now academically tied to their pair," he said, clearly enjoying the chaos that was unfolding in front of him, "the houses will also be paired this year and will have to work together for all the festivals, competitions, and anything house-related." He paused for effect, locking eyes with me as his grin grew wider with every passing second. "Sounds fun, doesn't it?"
The sick feeling in my stomach twisted even further as I processed what he had said. The idea of my house being forced to work with a full male house—especially with him—was terrifying. I couldn't even put into words how uncomfortable that made me feel. Just thinking about it sent a cold shiver down my spine. "Fuck," I muttered, my breath sharp and ragged. The last thing I needed was to be paired with him for every academic and house-related event, especially after what he'd already said.
"The pairs are Inferno and Tartarus, Elysium and Jotunheim, Paradise and Olympus, Themyscira and Atlantis," he continued, his voice almost giddy as he listed off the pairings. "And Asgard and Valhalla were left, so they're paired together. Even though Heimdall and Freya aren't officially paired, this ensures it's a fair competition."
"Fair," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "As much as I loathe the idea of pairing with the likes of you, when we work together, we're literally invincible. I almost feel bad for the other houses. Almost. If none of the girls were paired with me or none of the boys with you, we'd wipe the floor with every single one of them. Tartarus is still the strongest house, after all. We keep winning, even though I have fewer members, and all of my girls are in this class. We're practically like Slytherin in Hogwarts—minus the whole 'Dark Lord' vibe."
His lips curled into an even more infuriating grin. "Gryffindor is usually the winner, though," he said with a mock-thoughtful expression, clearly enjoying pushing my buttons.
I narrowed my eyes at him, my patience completely gone. "That's a plot hole," I muttered darkly, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared at him. He was going to be the death of me, I just knew it.