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“Then?” I press and cross one leg over the other as I lift my small bag and place it on the desk.
“No one sits there.”
I move my gaze away until it lands on the culprit of the voice, a short girl with purple hair. She seems pretty normal aside from the dark purple locks, but her gaze is odd to me.
Out of place. Not really there. Looney even.
“Because?” I’m still not following what the problem is.
“No one sits next to me.”
The room grows silent. The stillness in the atmosphere is only more noticeable as I turn my head to Hades. He looks completely calm, his red eyes all but on me. I don’t feel a spec of fear sitting next to him, so I’m confused as to what the problem is.
“What?” I just want him to repeat himself.
Because this sounds ridiculous.
“No one sits next to me,” he repeats.
“Because?”
He doesn’t answer, and everyone else is too afraid to speak up.
I’m sure Asher would tell me, but if he’s keeping quiet, that means it’s information he wants me to pull from the source.
The way a bubble of laughter escapes me has everyone staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. Leaning farther back in my chair, I lift my legs up so my feet are on the desk, cross one over the other, and sigh in annoyance.
“Great,” I declare, noticing Professor North is at the door. We share a look, one that gives me a glimpse into those dusk-colored eyes that show a speck of worry for my sanity. “I’m your new best friend, Hades.”
I can smell the aroma of fear in the air.
“Get used to me sitting next to you from now.”
“Hisssss,” Ophira agrees,
I can feel Hades’ lingering stare, even as I’m more interested in the chalkboard that only has one written thing on it.
Survival.
“You’re a rarity, Guinevere,” he admits.
“If that’s your way of saying I’m weird, I’ll take it as a compliment,” I conclude. I’m more relieved that my heartbeat has calmed down.
“Good morning, Professor North.” I decide it’s my duty to put my ‘Teacher’s Pet’ title to good use.
“Miss Guinevere,” he greets as he walks into the classroom and scans his audience with emotionless eyes.
Those dusk-colored spheres really remind me of a black vortex that will suck your soul with no warning or remorse.
I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who feels that way, seeing as the tension in the room spikes the moment his eyes trail across the room.
He reaches the middle of the room to the single black desk and stands in front of it. He has no books, pens, clipboards, or anything in his grasp. Just him, standing there, looking hot as fuck now that he’s wearing his black ensemble—black dress shirt with three buttons open, black dress pants, classy black dress shoes, and his black hair tied into a little ponytail.
The key pieces I notice that have me fighting not to drool are the single magic circle earring dangling from his left ear and the thick black glasses sitting on his face.
He wasn’t wearing glasses earlier.
When he’s finished taking in the entire space, his eyes land back on me.
