Pride-Niklaus's Point of View
♕︎ ♕︎ ♕︎
Strawberry, cinnamon, and a whisper of bourbon.
She smells incredible. Incredible doesn't even begin to describe it. It's like a drug, a heady, intoxicating mixture that coils around my mind, sinking deeper into me with every breath I take. It clings to the air, lingering long after she's moved, a signature scent that I can't shake. A unique blend of sweetness and spice that feels like it's been tailor-made for me, like the universe crafted it specifically for this moment—just for me to inhale. Every time I catch a whiff, it feels like I'm drowning, submerged in a tide of temptation that pulls me under, and I can't fight it. I don't want to fight it.
There's something primal about it. Something animalistic. It makes my pulse quicken, my senses sharpen. It's not just a scent—it's a force, like it has its own gravity that pulls at me, anchors me to her in ways I didn't know were possible. It's dangerous. So dangerous. But I can't escape it. I don't want to. It's the kind of intoxicating allure that once you taste it, once you breathe it in, you never want to let go.
I feel the weight of it settle inside my chest, pressing against my ribs, tightening my breath. It's almost as if it's become part of my body now, an invisible thread that binds us. Each time I catch it, it's like I'm drawn closer, helpless to resist. Her scent wraps around my senses in layers, curling in my lungs, filling my bloodstream with a heady rush. And even though it's driving me insane, I'm addicted to it. Addicted to her. It's like she's marked me without even realizing it, leaving a trail behind her that I can never escape, no matter how far I run.
It's not just the scent, though. It's everything about it—the way it lingers in the air when she's nearby, how it crawls into the crevices of my mind and clings there, like an imprint that refuses to fade. It gets into my skin, underneath my nails, etching itself into my very being. Every time I smell it, it's like a reminder that she's always there, even when she's not. I can't escape it. I can't even try to escape it.
She has a way of doing that. Without even trying, she's become an obsession. That smell, that intoxicating mixture, is a constant presence in the back of my mind. Every time I inhale, I can almost taste her on the tip of my tongue. It's maddening. It's all I think about. The way she moves, the way her scent fills every space she occupies, the way it sticks to me long after she's gone.
I feel myself slipping further, falling deeper with every passing moment. But I can't stop. I can't want to stop. Because every time I breathe her in, every time that scent floods my senses, it's like I'm being pulled closer to something I can't touch, something I shouldn't want. But I do. I want her. I need her. The scent is like a promise of something more, something dangerous, something mine.
Even though I know I'm already in too deep, it doesn't matter. It makes me crave her even more, like an addict chasing that one last high, knowing it will destroy me. But I can't resist. I can't pull away. And I don't think I ever will. Because in some sick, twisted way, I want her to have this hold over me. I want to be consumed by it. By her. By everything she is.
She's in my bones now, in my blood, in my breath. And I can't—won't—get her out.
I'll be forever grateful to Diana and Samuel for making us a pair, for whatever cosmic trickery they pulled to make this happen. Honestly, I'm convinced they fudged the pairings, bent the rules of fate, and somehow engineered it so that we'd be stuck together. There's no other explanation.
It feels too perfect—too deliberate. And as for the idea of joining our houses? Genius. An absolute stroke of brilliance. A mastermind plan executed flawlessly. It's like they knew this would be the ultimate test, the most delicious kind of chaos. I can't help but admire their scheming, their foresight. It's almost too good to be true.
And now Scarlet is stuck with me. No more running, no more avoiding me.
She can't escape.
Homework? Together. Projects? Together. Competitions? Together. Classes? Together. Our houses? Tied together in an unbreakable knot.
I can already feel the frustration building inside her every time she has to face me. Every time we cross paths, she's forced to deal with me, with the tension that always follows us. There's no getting away from me now.
To make it even better, the boys have all been paired with four of her girls, and my sister—my sister—is paired with her brother. Honestly, how perfect is that? It's like someone took all the pieces and carefully set them up for maximum irritation. There's no way this doesn't end in some kind of chaos. And every time I see her eye twitch, every time her jaw tightens in frustration, I can't help but grin.
I know it's bothering her, and that makes it all the sweeter. The more she tries to keep that mask of indifference, the more I see right through it. She's so predictable. It's almost too easy to push her buttons.
Scarlet won't be able to hide it forever. I know it. She can pretend all she wants, but there's no way she can keep up the act with me constantly around. Every day, we're forced into closer proximity, and I can see it. I can feel it. The way she looks at me sometimes… there's a hunger in her eyes, like I'm the most appetizing meal she's ever laid eyes on.
Does she even realize the way she's looking at me? The heat in her gaze? It's not just annoyance. It's something more. Something I'm going to exploit until there's nothing left to deny. So much wrath. So much angst. So much desire. So much denial. She's practically begging for it, but she's too proud to admit it. And I'm going to make her pay for that pride.
As we left the classroom, heading toward the Advanced Chemistry IX lab, I pulled my phone from my pocket, the screen lighting up with a message. I stepped off to the side, out of earshot from the others, letting them talk among themselves. The boys were already caught up in their conversations with their partners, while Nora and my sister did the same.
Scarlet, of course, had teleported straight to the lab the second Professor Ophelia's class had ended. I would've done the same, but I was enjoying this moment too much—the little space I had before the inevitable tension of the lab. I wanted her to stew for a bit longer. A little time for her thoughts to fester, for her irritation to build. It was the perfect setup.
Diana of Space: Happy?
Me: Overjoyed.
Diana of Space: Don't mess up.
Diana of Space: We shouldn't even be meddling.
Diana of Space: But you two are our favorite kids in here.
Me: heart-eyed demon sticker
Me: You are my favorite Goddess, you know that?
Diana of Space: I would be genuinely offended if I wasn't.
Me: No worries regarding that then.
Diana of Space: Be careful with her, alright?
Diana of Space: Don't cross the line.
Me: I am not Filthy Fox, darling.
Me: I may counter Scarlet's anger and mess with her back,
Me: But I will never do anything against Scarlet's will.
Me: Even the times I've stabbed her—it was only because she stabbed me first. I had to even the score. After all, I can't just let her stab me and expect everything to be fine. I might not die, but that shite hurts.
Diana of Space: giggling gif
Diana of Space: I would be worried if there was a way for you to die.
Me: If there was, she would've used it and killed me already.
Me: And if there is, she'll find it and try using it later on.
Me: But I'm not going down that easy. I'm not a pushover.
Diana of Space: She wouldn't like it if you left it for that either.
Me: mischievous grin emoji
Me: As if I didn't know that.
I couldn't help but grin to myself as I read over the messages. It was all so absurd, so perfectly set up, that I couldn't resist the amusement bubbling up inside me. Diana's warnings were amusing, sure, but I knew exactly what I was doing. I wasn't some naive fool, and I definitely wasn't Filthy Fox. I wasn't going to cross any lines, not yet anyway. I could mess with her all I wanted, poke and prod until she couldn't stand it anymore, but I wouldn't do anything to hurt her—at least, not in a way she didn't deserve.
This whole thing—this forced pairing, this constant proximity, this never-ending dance of teasing and antagonizing—it was going to be the best year of my life. I could already feel it. Scarlet was going to make me work for it, but that just made the challenge all the more delicious. I wasn't about to make it easy for her. Not when every little thing about her pulled me in, made me want to push her further, to see how much she could handle before everything came crashing down.
As much as I didn't look forward to the chemistry lab, I was almost excited. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I was going to enjoy watching her fight this, watching her struggle with the feelings she wasn't ready to admit to herself. The tension between us was practically unbearable, but I couldn't stop it. I didn't want to.