Xyrine Jean's POV
"Cuz, I'll go ahead. See you during break!" Ella called out cheerfully before disappearing into the crowded hallway. I barely acknowledged her, lost in my own thoughts.
My steps echoed lightly against the polished floor, yet my mind was weighed down by the lingering remnants of yesterday. A strange unease coiled inside me, an inexplicable pressure like the sky itself had come crashing down.
'Arg! Why did I even ask that? What was I thinking?' I clenched my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to groan aloud. 'I wish I could just pull my hair out.'
"Hey!" A voice interrupted my spiral of thoughts, followed by an arm draping itself casually over my shoulder.
I jolted. "Ren?" I shoved his arm away and turned to glare at him.
"So grumpy," he teased, unfazed. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you personally."
"For what?"
He frowned slightly, as if puzzled by my confusion. "Why are you asking as if I didn't see everything you did last time?"
A cold weight settled in my stomach. I came to an abrupt stop, my pulse thrumming in my ears.
Damn it. Would he be a problem?
"But don't worry." His voice was light, but there was an underlying sharpness to it. "I've been in the mafia industry since I was ten. Killing is just a normal thing to me. But I must admit, I was really shocked that time."
Ren halted his steps and looked at me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "But admit this one thing."
A strange foreboding crept up my spine. "What?"
"What clan are you in? Are you an Assa—"
Before he could finish, I had a double blade pressed against his throat. His breath hitched, though his lips quirked into an amused smirk. The hallway around us blurred, my focus narrowing to the steel edge hovering over his skin.
"If you're grateful, then act like you didn't see anything that day," I murmured. "Don't you dare ask anything like that again. Don't even think of uttering a word, or else..."
Ren raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, hey, that scared the crap out of me! I almost pissed myself."
I withdrew the blade, slipping it back into its concealed spot. "Quit it and get lost."
Instead of taking the hint, he continued walking beside me, pestering me all the way to Class A.
As soon as we entered, a warm voice greeted us. "Good morning."
It's Louren.
I felt a slight hitch in my breath. But this time, it wasn't the usual fluttering of my chest. It was different. Unsettling. I forced myself to smile, though I wasn't sure why. I didn't want to seem like I was avoiding him—because why would I even avoid him?
What's going on with me? A sharp pang of irritation struck me.
My gaze landed on Spade's empty seat. Where the hell is that bastard? Probably lurking around in hell.
Class went on as usual until a firm knock interrupted the lesson. The professor opened the door, and a collective hush fell over the room.
I turned toward the doorway and felt a jolt of surprise.
Sharina.
Up close, she was even more striking. Her beauty was the kind that made you question your own existence. It was almost unfair.
"The student council president is calling for Miss Xyrine Jean Guevara. May I excuse her?" Her voice was calm, graceful. Just as perfect as the rest of her.
My brain screeched to a halt. Wait, me? Student council president? Isn't that Spade? And why the hell would that weirdo summon me?
"Yes, you may. You can go now, Ms. Guevara," the professor granted.
I didn't want to go. In fact, I would rather stay and endure a boring lecture. But Spade was the student council president, and his summons weren't really requests. With an irritated sigh, I got up and followed Sharina.
As we walked through the corridors, she suddenly spoke. "So, it's you."
"Huh?"
"Spade likes you so much."
I nearly tripped over my own feet. "Pardon?"
She glanced at me with a small, unreadable smile. "You know what, this is the first time Spade's ever given his attention to anyone. I envy you."
My skin tingled, a strange discomfort crawling up my spine. Envy? Why the hell would she be envious? Isn't she his fiancée?
We arrived at the student council office. Inside, a meeting was already underway.
"So, is she the one for the role?" a bespectacled girl asked, adjusting her glasses as she eyed me skeptically.
I frowned. What role? What the hell is going on?
Spade stood up and strolled toward me, his signature smirk in place. "Ah, you've arrived."
"What the hell do you need now?" I demanded while crossing my arms.
He barely glanced at me. "Oh, you're here? My apologies, you're hardly noticeable, especially next to such a beautiful flower." He gestured toward Sharina.
My eyes twitched. Was that supposed to be an insult?
"Spade, that's too much," Sharina chided gently.
For some reason, her words made something in my chest tighten uncomfortably. I didn't like it.
I turned to leave. "If you have nothing to say, I'll—"
He grabbed my wrist to make me stop. "We're currently casting for the annual school play for the festival next week, and I want you to be a part of it."
I stared at him blankly. "Are you out of your damn mind? What made you think I'd join that willingly?"
"I'm the student council president. I can appoint anyone I see fit."
I narrowed my eyes. "Oh?"
He leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. "Shall I remind you that you're still my toy?"
I inhaled sharply, the irritation flaring. So now I'm a toy, not a mistress?
I crossed my arms. "Fine. What's my role?"
"A tree."
My jaw dropped. "A... what?"
"Yeah, a tree. You'll be one of the props."
I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him closer. He simply chuckled, completely unfazed. Damn bastard is actually enjoying this!
"You've really lost it, haven't you?" I muttered.
"Well, if you don't want to be a tree, there's another option." His voice dropped into something more serious.
"Spit it out."
He leaned in, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Like me back."
My breath hitched. My heart skipped.
Before I could even react, he burst into laughter.
"You've really got it bad," I gritted out, fists clenching. "I'm leaving."
"Wait, wait! One more thing."
I turned, annoyed. "What now?"
His next words sent my entire world tilting. "Help me court Sharina."
I froze.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
Then, before I even knew what I was saying, my lips moved.
"Deal."
Breaktime
"Cuz, are you okay?"
"Huh?"
"I knew it, you've been deep in thought. You've been twirling that pasta around since earlier."
"I'm just feeling a bit unwell."
"Help me court Sharina."
I stopped playing with the spaghetti, my fork frozen in midair as Spade's voice echoed in my head again. 'Help him court her?'
A sudden burst of laughter escaped me, uncontrollable and sharp. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
I jolted when Ella's firm grip landed on my forehead, her fingers cool against my skin. "Cuz, are you really okay?"
I was about to answer when the cafeteria erupted into noise. That could only mean one thing.
My fingers twitched as I absentmindedly twirled the spaghetti on my plate again. 'Why is this happening? I shouldn't care about them. I should avoid them, but for some reason, I can't.'
I was still toying with my food when someone placed a cellphone on the table, its presence abrupt and demanding. My gaze lifted, locking onto the person who did it. For a brief second, my heart stuttered in my chest before I quickly looked away, gripping my fork tighter.
"What's that?"
"Put your number."
"And why?"
"Don't ask, just put it."
There was no room for argument. Sighing, I tapped my number into the phone, eager for them to leave. My gaze flickered toward them as they walked away, and once again, my eyes found Sharina—standing between Louren and Spade. My breath hitched before I averted my gaze once more.
They were both amusing and pathetic. If this wasn't the worst situation, I didn't know what was.
"Why did Spade ask for your number? He could've asked me directly, so why go through you?"
I turned to Ella and rolled my eyes, but beneath my usual sarcasm, a thought gnawed at me: What would she feel if she found out that the person she liked actually liked someone else?
"You should forget about them. Don't associate with them," I said plainly.
I wasn't sure if my words were meant for Ella or for myself.
"Why?" she asked, frowning.
"You'll get hurt."
"Hahaha. That's okay. Getting hurt is part of love."
"Love?" The word snagged my attention, foreign and unexamined in my mind.
"Yes. Don't tell me you don't know what it is?"
I hesitated. "How can you say something is love?" I looked away, my fingers tightening around my fork.
"Uh, how, indeed? Maybe when your heart starts beating faster?" Her eyes sparkled with a mix of amusement and sincerity.
"Huh? My heart beats faster when I'm exercising," I deadpanned, especially when I feel bloodlust.
"Idiot, no! Does your heart race when you see a road?" I shot her a sharp look.
"What I mean is when you see someone and your heart suddenly races."
When I see my target, my heart beats faster. Is that love?!
"But love isn't just about making your heart race. It's also about making your heart ache."
I turned to her sharply. Damn, that was deep.
"What do you mean?"
"It hurts when you see the person you like with someone else." Her words struck me, leaving me momentarily stunned.
"If you feel both for one person, it means you're in love."
"What if it's for two?" I asked, my gaze darting away.
"That's impossible. It can't be for two! Maybe one is just infatuation. You might just be overwhelmed by what they do—like they're nice to you, always there, things like that. But love, it's different. It's like opposites attract. Even if you're different, when it hits you, it hits you! That's love!"
So confusing! This is more complicated than assembling a 1911 gun.
"Wait, why are you asking?" She smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes. "You're in love, aren't you? Ayyyie," she teased, poking my side.
I knew she was joking, but a nervous chill ran through me nonetheless.
As someone who knew nothing aside from killing…
IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?