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I don’t bother standing, choosing to wait until everyone leaves before exiting myself. They’ve tripped me enough times for me to learn a little self-preservation.
The class is almost empty by the time I pack up my things, but a few students still mill about. Someone stands at the front of the class, talking animatedly with the professor while Temperance approaches me.
“How does it feel to know that even God would have gotten rid of you? The great creator himself would have deemed you dangerous. Maybe once the Archangels learn of you, they’ll come to remove you themselves.” Her voice is sweet, almost charming. A perfect contrast to the venomous words escaping her lips.
“If I truly am spawned from demons, shouldn’t you be worried? From what I hear, they can easily rip an angel apart with their bare hands.” I stare down at my fingers, flexing them before jabbing my hand forward. She jumps back, though I wasn’t even close to touching her.
“G-get away from me.”
Grabbing a piece of paper and pen from my bag, I draw a random shape with thick black lines, like the one I saw in Zeke’s research last week, while spewing gibberish. I have no problems playing the demonic creature everyone thinks I am.
Temperance hasn’t moved, but her eyes have turned from stuck-up bitch to wary bitch as I put the last touches on the symbol and toss the paper at her. She jumps back to avoid any piece of it touching her, but still she doesn’t leave.
It’s time to have a little fun.
With jerky movements, I contort my body at weird angles, letting creepy sucking sounds escape my throat before I lurch toward her.
She damn near trips over a desk on her way out of the classroom.
A little shot of victory shoots through me, even if that might not have been my smartest move. But what am I supposed to do? Their tormenting hasn’t stopped. It hasn’t lessened either. So maybe if I lean in to it a little, they’ll leave me alone.
As the adrenaline eases from my body, I realize how fried my nerves are. Midterms are fast approaching, and classes are only getting harder. It doesn’t help that this school is filled with assholes, so I rarely get a break from their bullshit. Even Zeke, who appears to be my now-constant partner in combat, hasn’t taken the stick out of his ass. The only bright spots in my life are my three friends. I spend as much time with them as possible outside of classes. The curfew hasn’t helped, but Dina and I spend most of our evenings studying together in one of our rooms.
Raphael has agreed to help me study for our Angelic Powers midterm today. I had hoped the disadvantages of growing up with two Fallen parents wouldn’t hinder my progress here, but it appears I was wrong. I’ve gotten the hang of telepathy, at least with him, but it’s doing that with the telekinesis bit that I’m struggling with.
To be honest, I’ve always had a hard time focusing on two things at once, so it’s no surprise I need a little extra tutoring in this area. Though, I’m questioning if maybe I should have requested someone else’s help for this. I have a feeling Raphael is going to be too distracting a tutor.
Once I’m back in my room, I change out of the school uniform and into some sweatpants, paired with a plain gray tank top and SCU zip-up hoodie. If I’m going to melt my brain by studying all afternoon, I may as well be comfortable.
Raphael asked me to meet him by the statues near his house since we’ll be studying in his room. Theo was originally supposed to join us, but the news of another demon attack left him preoccupied and withdrawn. We tried to convince him it would be a good way to keep his mind off it, but he said he’d rather see if he could learn anything helpful instead of worrying about school. Not that he has much to worry about. That guy is already far smarter than I am.
With him busy, that leaves Raphael and me alone. It feels too weird to ask him to change study locations now that it’s just the two of us. Part of me is grateful that we won’t have an audience. I get shit on by the other students enough that I really don’t want them to know how hard I’m struggling. But the other part of me wonders if being alone with him is such a good idea.
I find him standing near the angel statue in a near identical pose, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Anyone ever tell you that you look like him?” I ask as I land on my feet.
“You’d be the first, though I haven’t exactly posed for anyone else. Besides, I’m pretty sure my wingspan is bigger.” In a flash, his wings are out and spread wide, just like the statue.
Well shit, he might be right, though I’ll never tell him that. His wings are beautiful, appearing both bright and colorless at the same time. The sun reflects off the white feathers until they almost shimmer like a thousand diamonds. It’s hard to look away from.
“Do you like what you see, sunshine?” he asks, his voice teasing and abruptly shaking me out of my daze.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I reply with a wink before walking past him toward the house of Power.
I only get so far before he calls out, “Come on, let’s fly instead.” He holds out his hand, and I take it without hesitation.
We fly around the building toward a balcony that faces the trees. It’s really quite stunning from up here, almost like a private forest just for him.
Using his wing, he unlocks his door before turning to gesture me inside. His room is a similar size to mine, though he’s on a lower floor than I am. Likely because of the sheer number of Pure students that attend SCU, but it wouldn’t surprise me if the Fallen dorms were just smaller. We are Fallen, after all.
There’s a large, king-sized bed in the corner. It’s low to the ground, which is odd to see compared to how high my bed is. But maybe this is what all the dorms are like here. On the opposite side of the room sit two leather barrel chairs. The navy coloring matches well with the other accents within the room.
It’s neater than I expected, but more like my room.Messier than Zeke’s, I think. I instantly regret that thought, and hope Raphael can’t read any of it on my face. Who the hell compares guys’ bedrooms, anyway? Only fucking weirdos, apparently.
I bring my things to one of the navy chairs before sitting and rummaging through my bag to find my slate. My hands are clammy when I pull it out and set it on the table. I fidget with my shirt, looking everywhere but at Raphael as he sits in the chair across from me.
“You’re nervous. Why?”
