The red carpet stretched out before me like a gilded path straight to my doom. Every step I took felt like dragging weights, the plush fabric mocking me with its luxurious softness. The Grand Imperial Hotel loomed ahead in all its obnoxious glory, gold-plated doors gleaming under the lights. It was the kind of place that screamed, Welcome to paradise! But only if you can afford it!
Next to me, Nyssa walked with effortless grace, her hand lightly resting on my arm. Her orange hair seemed to glow under the chandeliers, and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds. She looked like she belonged here, a queen surveying her kingdom.
Meanwhile, I felt like a prisoner being paraded to his execution. Sure, I looked great in my tailored suit, and yes, the hotel staff bowed like I was royalty, but none of it could distract me from the one truth gnawing at my soul.
Midterms.
I glanced at Nyssa. She was smiling softly, her radiant beauty almost enough to make me forget my academic doom. Almost.
As we walked into the hotel lobby, the whispers started. It wasn't loud, just a low murmur of intrigue and admiration. The kind of noise you'd hear at a zoo if someone released a rare animal into the exhibit.
"Is that Henry Novar?"
"Who's the girl with him?"
"She's stunning. But oh my gosh, he's even better looking in person!"
I straightened my back a little at that one. Of course, I'm better looking in person. This jawline doesn't photograph itself.
Beside me, Nyssa's smile was starting to look a little... tense. Her green eyes flitted around the room, narrowing slightly at every group of girls whose gaze lingered a second too long.
A cluster of young women stood near the entrance, their whispers growing louder. One of them giggled as I passed, her voice carrying just enough for me to catch. "He's probably here to party. Bet his girlfriend can't even keep up with him."
I felt Nyssa's grip tighten ever so slightly on my arm.
Oh, no.
We stepped into the elevator, its walls lined with polished gold and mirrors that reflected our every move. Nyssa crossed her arms, leaning slightly against the side, her waves of orange hair catching the golden light. She let out a soft, audible huff, her lips pursed.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she muttered, her voice low but pointed.
"What? Enjoying what?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral, though I already knew where this was going.
She rolled her eyes, gesturing vaguely toward the lobby with a flick of her hand. "The attention. You can't tell me you didn't notice how they were all staring at you."
"Well," I said, leaning casually against the wall and flashing her my best grin, "can you blame them?"
Her green eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I wondered if she was about to push me out of the elevator. "Really?"
"Okay, okay!" I raised my hands in mock surrender, trying to suppress my laughter. "I was kidding! You know I only have eyes for you, right?"
Her pout deepened for half a second before she finally relented, her lips curving into a shy smile. "You'd better. Or else..."
The elevator dinged, saving me from whatever playful threat she had in mind.
As the doors opened, I couldn't help but glance at her, her cheeks still faintly pink with jealousy. My mind wandered to all the versions of Nyssa I'd encountered: the composed Nyssa in public, the stuttering Nyssa when she talked to me, the brazen Nyssa in bed... and now, the jealous Nyssa.
What other versions of her could I unlock today?
As we strolled down the elegant hallway toward our suite, the hushed whispers from other guests were impossible to ignore. Of course, they were admiring the amazing view—yours truly. Who could blame them? My reflection in the gleaming marble walls confirmed what I already knew: I looked fantastic.
But just as I was about to bask in the glory of my self-confidence, a woman, dressed in an overly flashy gown that practically screamed look at me, stepped forward. Subtlety? Not her strong suit. She moved with the kind of exaggerated confidence that bordered on arrogance, her gaze flickering disdainfully toward Nyssa before landing squarely on me.
"Mr. Henry Novar~~," she crooned, her voice so high-pitched it felt like an assault on my eardrums. Is her voice always like this? How do her vocal cords survive?
I resisted the urge to sigh out loud, though I could practically feel Nyssa's glare heating up beside me. She didn't say anything, but the way her grip on my arm tightened spoke volumes.
"Yes, it is the Henry Novar," I said, running a hand through my perfectly styled hair out of habit. Wait, why did I do that? C'mon, Henry, don't feed the beast.
Her gaze brightened, and she took a step closer, her dress sparkling obnoxiously under the chandelier lights. "Can I just call you Henry?" she purred, leaning in slightly to showcase a bit of her cleavage.
I didn't even flinch. I had seen heaven, held heaven, and tasted heaven, heaven had orange hair, green eyes, and a penchant for stealing my hoodies. This? This wasn't even a mildly interesting detour. Besides, her perfume was so strong I was pretty sure I could taste it.
"Sorry, but I don't kno—"
Before I could finish, she reached out and pressed a finger to my lips. I froze, utterly baffled. Is this happening?
"If you ever get tired of your... companion," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, "I'd be more than happy to keep you company."
Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell is she talking about? My gaze darted to Nyssa, who stood still beside me, her smile unwavering.
Nyssa's green eyes sparkled like emeralds, but they had a sharp, dangerous edge now. Her lips curved into a sweet smile, but I could feel the tension rolling off her in waves.
Like a guardian angel in a pressed suit, a hotel staff member appeared seemingly out of nowhere. With the precision of a professional and the demeanor of a saint, he gently placed a firm hand on the woman's shoulder.
"Madam," he said, his tone polite but unwavering, "please respect our guests' privacy. This way, if you don't mind."
"What? I wasn't—" she protested, but the staff's grip didn't waver as he expertly guided her toward the exit.
I blinked, watching as her complaints echoed faintly down the hallway. It was like watching a bad reality show in fast forward.
"Hmph, she deserved that," my heaven muttered.
Nyssa's triumphant grin stretched wide, but her tone was all innocent sweetness. "Don't look at me," she said in a sing-song voice. "It looks like this hotel has manners."
__
As we reached our suite door, something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I turned, squinting toward the end of the hallway.
There, partially hidden behind a large potted plant, were two figures dressed in laughably poor disguises—oversized sunglasses, floppy hats, and trench coats that screamed we're trying too hard. One held a pair of binoculars, while the other whispered into a walkie-talkie.
My jaw dropped. "What are they doing?"
Nyssa followed my gaze, her eyes widening before realization dawned. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying and failing to suppress her laughter.
"Are those... your parents?" she asked, her voice shaking with suppressed mirth.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Of course they are."
As if on cue, the figure with the binoculars lowered them—my mom. She gave a thumbs-up in our direction before ducking back behind the plant.
Nyssa doubled over in laughter, clutching her sides. "That's wow! Are they dressed up as spies?"
"Spies don't get caught," I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. "They're supposed to be letting us study, not running some covert operation."
"Hey," Nyssa said, still giggling as she looped her arm through mine. "At least you know they care."
"Yeah," I muttered, unlocking the suite door. "A little too much."
As we stepped inside, I couldn't help but glance back down the hallway. My dad now had the binoculars, peering toward the staircase as another staff member gently but firmly guided yet another unwanted admirer away.
The last thing I heard before the door closed was his booming voice over the walkie-talkie: "Another one down. Great work, team."
"Target neutralized," my mom said into the walkie-talkie. "Mission accomplished. Over."
"Great job, team," my dad replied. "Now let's move to phase two: ensuring they focus on studying."
As soon as the door clicked shut behind us, Nyssa turned on me with a predatory glint in her eye. Before I could process what was happening, she pressed me against the door, her lips crashing into mine with a fervor that left me breathless.
Her hands trailed down my chest, gripping my arms like I might vanish if she didn't hold me in place. She peppered kisses along my jawline and down to my neck, her soft lips working their magic until I felt my resolve crumble.
"You're mine, okay?" she murmured against my skin, her tone equal parts possessive and teasing.
My brain short-circuited. I opened my mouth to reply, but all that came out was a strangled noise as her lips moved to my chest, leaving little trails of fire in their wake.
Her nails lightly grazed my chest. I felt her lips plant kisses there too, her mouth leaving a fiery trail along the muscle before she pulled back to admire her handiwork.
"Visible enough?" she asked smugly, her green eyes twinkling as she looked at the fresh hickeys she'd left behind.
"Uh, Nyssa..." I tried, my voice faltering as her mouth found another spot. My biceps? Really? I mean, I've been working out, sure, but... "what are you doing?"
"Just marking my territory," she said, flashing me a playful grin.
Just as I was about to flip the script and show her, I could be just as assertive, she abruptly stepped back, leaving me leaning awkwardly against the door, still catching my breath.
"Alright, let's get started," she said brightly as if she hadn't just branded me with a collection of visible hickeys.
"Wait, what?" I blinked, completely thrown off by her sudden mood shift.
Nyssa had already moved to the center of the suite, pulling out a stack of books and uncapping a marker. "Studying, Henry. We're here to prepare for midterms, remember?"
I glanced down at myself, still very... affected by the recent events. "You can't just—how am I supposed to—"
She shot me a look over her shoulder, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Focus, Henry. You must be in the top rankings, don't you?"
"What—" I gestured helplessly to my neck, then my arms, then back to her. "You're just going to... switch gears like that?"
"Of course," she said, pulling out a marker and uncapping it with a flourish. "We've got a lot to cover, Henry. And you promised to focus if I helped."
"Nyssa, you literally—" I gestured vaguely at my neck again.
"Focus," she commanded, pointing the marker at me like a sword.
She wasn't playing fair.
Reluctantly, I moved to the table, sitting down as she pulled out a giant whiteboard from the corner of the room. She wheeled it in front of me with all the grace of a battlefield general preparing her troops.
She started writing key points from the first subject with an impressive, almost intimidating, level of enthusiasm. The squeak of the marker against the board filled the room as she rattled off concepts and terms, turning to underline certain sections with dramatic flair.
"See this?" she said, pointing to a diagram she'd drawn. "This is the foundation of what you'll need for the midterm. If you mess this part up, the rest will fall apart like a bad soufflé."
"Why does everything you say sound terrifyingly important?" I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck.
She gave me a saccharine smile, her green eyes narrowing just a bit. "Because it is. Now, pay attention."
Despite my earlier... distraction, her focus was contagious. She was so passionate about the material that I couldn't help but get drawn in. That, or the way her hair caught the light every time she moved was hypnotizing.
Hours passed in a blur of formulas, notes, and Nyssa flipping between "dedicated tutor" and "playful tease."
"Did you write that down?" she asked, tapping the board with her marker.
"Yes," I replied automatically, even though my notes looked more like chicken scratch.
She peered over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "Henry, that says 'Nyssa is cute.'"
I grinned sheepishly. "To be fair, it's true."
Her face turned pink, but she quickly covered it by turning back to the board. "Focus," she repeated sternly, though I caught the small smile tugging at her lips.
By the time we took a break, my brain felt like it had run a marathon. I leaned back in my chair, groaning.
"You're doing great," Nyssa said encouragingly, passing me a bottle of water.
"Great? I feel like my head's about to explode," I muttered, taking a long sip.
She smirked, leaning down to meet my gaze. "And yet, you're still here. Proud of you."
Her smile made the ache in my head a little more bearable. "Yeah, well, you're lucky I'm motivated by rewards."
Her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh? Keep studying, and you'll get one."
I sat up straighter, narrowing my eyes. "What kind of reward?"
She simply winked, standing up and stretching. "Guess you'll have to find out."
And just like that, I was back at the whiteboard, pen in hand, ready to conquer the next subject. Because if there's one thing I've learned about Nyssa, it's that she always makes good on her promises.
__
The clock struck nine, and the suite was enveloped in a soft golden glow from the bedside lamps. Nyssa had been in full drill-sergeant mode all day, ensuring every topic was reviewed, every formula memorized, and every note rewritten. By the time the evening rolled around, I was buried under a mountain of study materials.
"Alright," Nyssa announced, stretching her arms above her head. "I'm taking a shower. Keep going through those notes, okay?"
I looked up from the tangle of highlighters and papers, giving her a mock salute. "Yes, ma'am."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered as she grabbed her toiletries and disappeared into the bathroom. Moments later, the sound of running water and her soft humming filled the suite.
I tried to focus, really, I did. But her voice—sweet and melodic—was impossible to ignore. My brain, traitor that it was, kept conjuring images of Nyssa, steam swirling around her... Nope. Stop.
The suite was quiet, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the room as I absently wandered around, trying to distract myself from the relentless studying. My eyes landed on a small pile of neatly wrapped boxes on the coffee table.
I frowned, stepping closer. "What's this?" I muttered, picking up the top box. It was heavier than I expected, and a note taped to the lid immediately caught my attention:
To Henry and Nyssa—From Mom and Dad.
My stomach dropped. This was already bad news.
I didn't even need to open it to know. "Oh no," I groaned, holding it like it might explode. "This can't be good. This is never good."
Peeling back the wrapping paper with the kind of caution reserved for bomb squads, I opened the lid. My breath hitched.
Inside was a fully designed marriage certificate, complete with gold-embossed lettering, elegant borders, and—oh God—the names Henry Novar and Nyssa Albright already filled in. Fake signatures adorned the bottom like the punchline to a very cruel joke.
"What the—" I yelped, snapping the lid shut as if the thing had sprouted fangs. My heart pounded as my mind tried to process what I'd just seen.
Marriage?! Already?! Are they insane?!
I stumbled back and dropped into the nearest chair, the box still clutched in my hands. My brain betrayed me as a vivid daydream took hold.
Nyssa stood at the end of a long, flower-strewn aisle, bathed in golden sunlight. Her orange hair glimmered like a fiery halo, her green eyes locking onto mine with a softness that stole my breath. She wore a stunning white gown that hugged her figure before flaring out like a dream.
The crowd faded into a blur, and all I could see was her as she walked toward me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms sweating as I stood at the altar, nervously straightening my tie.
My heart raced at the image of her smile, warm and radiant, as she reached me. The audience blurred into an indistinct crowd; all I could see was her.
Would she tease me, even on our wedding day? I imagined her leaning in, whispering something witty about how nervous I looked, just to make me laugh.
But then the daydream shifted, as daydreams often do. The priest asked, "Do you, Henry Novar, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"
"I do," I said, voice steady.
"And do you, Nyssa Albright, take this man?"
Her grin turned mischievous as she leaned into the microphone. "I guess I'll take him. He's decent enough."
I shook my head violently, snapping myself out of the fantasy. "Get a grip, Henry!" I muttered to myself, setting the box aside like it was radioactive. "What's wrong with you?!"
Still reeling, I reached for the second box, praying it would be less mortifying. The contents rattled ominously as I carried it over to the couch.
With a deep breath, I opened the lid.
The first box had been mortifying, this one was downright catastrophic. Inside was a neatly arranged box of condoms and a pack of birth control pills.
Right on top were two notes, as if my parents wanted to make absolutely sure their message wasn't lost on me.
The first was in my dad's bold handwriting:
"Always use protection and keep safe. We want a grandchild, but not yet."
The second was unmistakably my mom's, written in loopy, cheerful script:
"Proud of you, honey. Just don't rush into things!"
I froze, staring at the items like they were some kind of alien artifact.
"What the hell is wrong with them?!" I whispered harshly, running a hand down my face. My parents were officially out of their minds.
I clapped the lid shut, heart pounding, but my brain refused to let it go. Birth control? Condoms? Are they seriously planning our—our...
I couldn't even finish the thought.
Before I could shove the box of horrors into the deepest corner of the suite, the bathroom door creaked open.
I froze.
There she was—Nyssa, stepping out like a goddess descending from the heavens, damp hair cascading over her shoulders, a towel loosely draped around her. Water droplets clung to her skin, catching the soft light, and she looked absolutely radiant.
Her green eyes found mine immediately, then drifted down to the box in my hands.
"What's that?" she asked, tilting her head, a playful smile already forming on her lips.
Panic shot through me. "N-nothing!" I stammered, fumbling with the lid in a desperate attempt to close it. Of course, in my haste, the box slipped from my hands, and its mortifying contents spilled across the floor like a bad omen.
The condoms. The pills. The notes. All of it.
Nyssa blinked, her gaze shifting between the items and my horrified face.
"It's not what it looks like!" I blurted, my voice cracking. My hands flailed uselessly as I scrambled to explain. "I swear! My parents—they left it here—I didn't—this wasn't—"
Her lips curved into a smirk, and I swear the room's temperature rose ten degrees.
Nyssa knelt gracefully, picking up the scattered items with an infuriating calmness. She examined the pills first, turning them over in her hands like she was inspecting a rare artifact.
"Birth control, huh?" she mused, her tone light but teasing.
I felt my face heat up as if I'd stuck my head in an oven. "I swear it's not my idea!" I sputtered, my words tumbling over themselves. "I didn't even know—"
She stood, cutting off my frantic babbling with a soft laugh. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement as she casually tucked the pills into her bag. "Just in case," she said, her voice so calm and composed that it only made my flustered state worse.
Then she picked up the box of condoms.
Oh no.
Her expression turned coy as she stepped closer, holding the box between her fingers like it was a secret weapon. My brain screamed at me to do something, but my body was frozen.
"You know..." she began, leaning in until her breath was warm against my ear. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure she could hear it. "This will be your reward if you get into the top ranking."
My brain short-circuited.
"W-wait, Nyssa—" I managed to choke out, my voice barely audible.
She held the box as she slowly uncovers herself in the towel but covering her nipples with the box. How? She's being too unfair, my manhood aching at her sight.
She winked, stepping back with the box still in her hands. "Better study hard, Henry," she said, her tone playful yet commanding.
I stood there, stunned, as she walked away with all the poise and confidence of someone who had just won a game, I didn't know we were playing. Her damp orange hair swayed with each step, and her smug smile lingered like a victorious flag planted in my psyche.
I clutched at my chest, my mind reeling. Wasn't she supposed to be the flustered one in this relationship? How did this happen?
But then her parting words echoed in my head: Top ranking.
I clenched my fists, a new wave of determination surging through me. This wasn't just about studying anymore. This was about pride, about proving myself, and, okay, maybe about the potential reward.
"Alright," I muttered under my breath, narrowing my eyes. "Let's do this."
The knock on the hotel suite's door echoed like a savior and a curse simultaneously. My brain was fried from the endless formulas, and the whiteboard in front of me, once pristine, now looked like a battlefield of diagrams and annotations. Nyssa stood beside me, her orange hair tied back in a loose ponytail as she tapped a marker against her lip, deep in thought.
"Who could that be?" I muttered, massaging my temples.
Nyssa perked up and walked over to the door. As it swung open, the warm, rich aroma of something heavenly hit me before I even saw who it was.
"Surprise!" my mom's voice chimed brightly, and I knew instantly—there was no escape.
Both my parents entered like they owned the place. My mom carried a tray that wouldn't have looked out of place at a royal banquet, while my dad followed, balancing another tray with a smirk so smug it made me want to hide under the couch.
"We thought you two might appreciate some real food after all that studying!" my mom said, setting the tray down with the flourish of a magician revealing their final trick.
I slumped into the couch, already sensing my dad's smugness radiating off him. "We've been eating just fine," I said, though my stomach betrayed me with a grumble.
"Oh really?" my dad said, raising an eyebrow as he placed his tray next to my mom's. "You didn't look like you've been eating well the last time we saw you." His eyes darted to me, then Nyssa, with a knowing twinkle. "Besides, we just wanted to check in... to make sure you two aren't slacking off."
"Slacking off?" I shot back, trying to keep my composure. "We've been studying nonstop."
"Oh, is that so?" He leaned against the back of the chair, arms crossed and smirking like he was in on a joke I didn't understand yet. "Not even taking a little... break to use the gifts we left you?"
I felt my ears go hot as my neck flushed red. "Dad!" I hissed, shooting him a warning glare, but his grin only widened.
"What gifts?" Nyssa asked, glancing up from arranging plates on the table. She's pretending at this point too, just to see my reaction damn it.
"Nothing!" I blurted, louder than I intended. My dad chuckled like a villain in a Saturday morning cartoon.
"Relax, son," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Just making sure you're... prepared."
"Victor, stop teasing him," my mom said, though she wasn't entirely innocent herself. She handed Nyssa a plate with a generous slice of pie and smiled warmly. "You're both working so hard. I'm so proud of you two."
Nyssa accepted the plate, her green eyes lighting up. "Thank you, Mrs. Novar. This looks amazing!"
"Please, call me Eleanor," my mom said, brushing off the formality with a wave. "We're practically family now."
Nyssa blushed, her cheeks pink as she glanced over at me. "That's very kind of you."
While they bonded over dessert, my dad sat beside me and nudged my shoulder. "She's a good one, isn't she?"
I glanced at Nyssa, who was nodding enthusiastically as my mom explained her secret for perfectly fluffed pie crust. Her laugh filled the room, light and genuine.
"Yeah," I said softly, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. "She is."
My dad's smirk softened into something more sincere. "You're lucky, kid. Don't screw it up."
"Trust me," I said, leaning back against the couch, "I don't plan to."
For the first time in a long while, the chaos of my life didn't seem so bad. My parents adored Nyssa, and watching her fit so seamlessly into my family made me realize just how much better this timeline was turning out to be.
The suite felt like a bubble of silence after my parents left, their chaotic energy replaced by the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the faint scratching of pens on paper. The remnants of their visit lingered in the air—a warm coziness mixed with the scent of the feast they brought. Nyssa and I had settled back into our study routine, her focus sharp as ever while I struggled to keep my eyes from drifting toward her instead of the whiteboard.
As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Nyssa stretched, her arms rising above her head, making her orange hair cascade like a fiery waterfall. "I think that's enough for tonight," she said, closing her notebook with an air of finality.
I nodded, even though my brain felt like a wrung-out sponge. "Yeah, I guess," I muttered, though a part of me wanted to keep going just to hear her explain things in that calm, patient tone.
Before I could blink, Nyssa walked over and cupped my face with her hands, her green eyes locking onto mine. "Uh, Nyssa?" I began, but her mischievous smirk silenced me. That look always meant trouble—and by trouble, I meant my complete inability to say no to her.
She leaned in, and the world stopped spinning for a moment. Her kiss was soft, lingering, and completely devastating. My brain short-circuited as my heart hammered against my ribs like a marching band in overdrive.
When she pulled away, I managed a weak, "Nyssa…" my voice barely a whisper.
She stepped back, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but her eyes sparkled with the kind of confidence that made me both adore and fear her. "Just a little encouragement," she teased, her lips curling into a playful smile as she twirled a lock of her hair.
Before I could recover, she hooked her fingers under the hem of her sweater and lifted it ever so slightly. My eyes widened as she revealed a glimpse of a deep red lace lingerie set that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
I swallowed hard, trying—and failing—to play it cool. "You're killing me. Literally. This is murder."
Her smirk widened. "Oh, I'm just giving you something to look forward to. You'll get a proper taste... if you make it into the rankings."
She turned away, clearly satisfied with my dumbfounded expression. As if to twist the knife further, she pulled a folding divider out of nowhere and set it squarely in the middle of the bed. "Consider this your final test of self-control," she said, her tone dripping with playful authority. "If you can't manage this, how will you focus tomorrow?"
I groaned, flopping onto the bed with the grace of a defeated walrus but keeping firmly on my side of the divider. "You're evil. Pure evil."
Nyssa's laugh was light and teasing as she climbed into bed on her side. "Goodnight, Henry. And good luck tomorrow. Just think of the feast waiting for you."
A feast. Right. As I lay there staring at the ceiling, my thoughts ran wild. Was this a study reward system or some twisted psychological torture? My brain replayed her words—and her smug little smirk—on a loop that made sleep feel like a distant dream.
"She's worth it," I whispered to myself. But seriously, how did she expect me to sleep when my heart felt like it had just run a marathon, and my resolve was hanging by a thread?
If nothing else, tomorrow's exam was going to be the least of my challenges.