Luther walked slowly down the hallway toward the room assigned to his group, feeling the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. All he wanted at that moment was a place to lie down and close his eyes. But when he opened the door, he was greeted by the mocking laughter of Marcus and the other members of the group.
The air in the room was suffocating, charged with an invisible tension that clung to everything. Luther immediately noticed the disdainful looks directed at him, accompanied by whispers and malicious chuckles. Marcus was lounging on a bed, grinning smugly.
"Well, if it isn't the princess's favorite," Marcus said with dripping sarcasm, prompting more laughter from the others.
Ignoring the comments, Luther began walking around the room, looking for an empty bed. However, every bed was occupied, and the boys pretended not to notice his presence. Finally, his eyes landed on the bed that was supposed to be his—only to find that the mattress was missing, leaving behind nothing but the cold, hard wooden frame.
The group erupted into laughter. Marcus, still grinning mockingly, got up from his bed and approached Luther. "Oh, sorry about that, Luther. It was like this when we got here," he said with a feigned look of apology before bursting into laughter along with the others.
Luther stared at the wooden frame for a few moments, feeling the anger boiling inside him. His jaw tightened, and his fists clenched. Marcus's laughter echoed in his head, and in an instant, Luther's patience snapped.
Without warning, Luther stepped forward and grabbed Marcus by the neck with one hand, lifting him off the ground with a strength that shocked everyone in the room. Marcus, caught completely off guard, flailed helplessly, gasping for air.
Luther brought his face close to Marcus's ear and, in a cold, threatening voice, whispered, "I'm letting this slide because I have patience, and I don't like causing trouble. But if you keep pushing me... you'll regret it."
Luther's eyes burned with a murderous intensity, and his voice was icy. As he tightened his grip, Marcus started slapping at Luther's arm, desperately trying to breathe.
"Let him go, you idiot!" one of the boys shouted as the others scrambled off their beds in alarm. "You're going to kill him!"
Luther, his eyes still locked on Marcus, turned his head slightly toward the others. His expression was one of pure contempt and defiance, and the click of his tongue against his teeth echoed in the tense silence.
Finally, Luther released Marcus, who collapsed to the floor, coughing and gasping for air. His face was red, and tears welled in his eyes as he struggled to breathe.
Luther glared at the others with disdain. "Pussy ass bitches," he spat before turning and leaving the room, slamming the door behind him with a resounding crash.
As he walked away, the room fell into an uneasy silence. Marcus, still sprawled on the floor, breathed heavily, his face twisted in pure hatred. Clenching his fists, he slammed one into the ground in a fit of rage, shouting, "I'll kill him! I swear I'll kill him!"
His screams echoed through the room as the others watched with discomfort and fear. No one dared say anything, but it was clear that Marcus wouldn't let this slide.
Luther continued down the hallways of the building, searching for a room where he could find some refuge for the night. But after checking door after door, it became evident that the only available spaces were with the groups—and he had no intention of returning to Marcus and his lackeys. Frustrated, he sighed and decided to head outside to the courtyard.
The cool night air greeted him like a soothing balm. He wandered toward a fountain in the center of the courtyard, its gentle murmurs offering a momentary sense of peace. Removing his cloak, he folded it carefully, placing it beside him as a makeshift pillow. Leaning against the base of the fountain, he gazed up at the starry sky for a moment before closing his eyes, hoping to find some rest.
He had barely begun to drift off when the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears. His body tensed instinctively, thinking it might be a guard. Quickly opening his eyes, he prepared to explain himself, but what he saw surprised him.
Standing before him, bathed in the soft glow of torchlight, was the silhouette of a petite woman with an undeniably enchanting presence. Her black hair fell in gentle waves, and her bright green eyes glimmered with curiosity. She had a delicate figure, with curves that didn't go unnoticed by Luther, but it was her calm and confident aura that intrigued him most.
"What are you doing out here?" she asked, tilting her head slightly as she regarded him with interest.
Still wary, Luther propped himself up on his elbows. "Nothing special. Just… looking for a place to sleep," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Elise narrowed her eyes slightly, picking up on the defensive tone in his voice. "Looking for a place to sleep? Why aren't you in your group's room?"
Luther hesitated for a moment before sighing in defeat. "There wasn't any space. And I didn't feel like dealing with them."
Elise clicked her tongue in disapproval, crossing her arms over her chest. "Let me guess… Marcus."
Luther raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You know him?"
Elise sat on the edge of the fountain with a sigh. "Unfortunately, yes. We're from the same world. Our families are… well-known. Our fathers own major companies, and in their infinite wisdom, they tried to push us into being friends. Even suggested a relationship for the 'good of the company.'"
Luther let out a dry laugh. "Let me guess: it didn't work."
Elise smirked. "Not at all. Marcus has always been the same: arrogant and immature. I couldn't stand him then, and I certainly can't stand him now."
Luther chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Sounds like you've got him pegged. It's like you read my mind."
The two of them laughed quietly, and as the conversation continued, the tension of the night began to fade. They shared anecdotes and fragments of their past lives, finding unexpected common ground despite their different backgrounds. Their shared struggles to adapt to this new world formed a bond neither of them had anticipated.
Elise recounted a story about Marcus trying to impress her once, only to fall into a lake on her family's estate. She laughed, looking up at the starry sky. "It's late," she said with a smile before turning back to Luther. "You can't stay out here all night."
Luther raised an eyebrow. "And where exactly am I supposed to go? My group clearly doesn't want me there."
Elise clicked her tongue again and stood. "Follow me. There's space in my room. Don't worry, it won't cause any problems."
Luther hesitated, glancing at his makeshift cloak pillow. "Are you sure? I don't want to get you in trouble."
Elise rolled her eyes, motioning for him to follow. "Not at all. Trust me."
Reluctantly, Luther picked up his cloak and followed her, feeling an unexpected sense of gratitude for her company.