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RAVEN
Iblink my eyes open, confusion clouding my vision for a brief second as I figure out where I am… in my room. There’s not a dead body in sight, and I heave a sigh of relief.
“Dove, you’re awake,” Zane murmurs, pulling my gaze to his where he lies beside me. A soft smile turns the corners of his mouth up as he rolls to his side, propping his cheek on his palm while he strokes a hand down the side of my face. “You were starting to make me worry.”
“I’m getting pretty good at that,” I reply with a smirk, and he shakes his head at me.
“I’m going to add it to the housemate handbook; no more making me worry.” My heart warms and a sense of calmness washes over me. Although, it doesn’t seem to ease the ache that has my limbs heavy and lethargic at my sides.
Refusing to let the tiredness get the better of me, I press my palms into the sheets beneath me and push up to a sitting position. I instantly feel lightheaded and my stomach clenches.
“Oh fuck,” I groan, fighting harder against the ache in my muscles and bones to stagger to my feet and rush to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before bile burns up the back of my throat, and I vomit.
Heave after heave; it’s never-ending. Watery eyes distort my vision as I wretch, and I’m suddenly aware of a hand at my back. Small circles are drawn against my academy shirt as I cling to the porcelain. Only when I’m certain nothing else is going to come up do I take the towel that’s at my side and wipe my mouth. Even then, I can’t bring myself to look behind me.
“This is so embarrassing,” I mumble, not wanting to open my eyes.
“Dove.” The palm at my back continues to draw circles as another hand cups my cheek. “I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what the fuck you have to be embarrassed about.”
Of course he wouldn’t.
“My insides just left me and you witnessed it. I need a minute to gather myself, brush my teeth, and get over the cringy feeling clawing at my chest,” I admit, which somehow earns me a chuckle.
“Open your eyes, Dove.” I shake my head, even as he taps his fingertip at my temple. “Open up.”
“No.”
“Come on, Raven. It’s just me.” Doesn’t he understand that’s my whole point? I don’t need any of these guys seeing me like this. “Don’t make me get the others in here and force us to pry your eyes open,” he threatens, and my eyes ping open so I can glare at him, earning myself another chuckle.
Fucker.
“Now, can I have a minute?” I grumble, and he shakes his head.
“You’re beautiful, Raven. When you’re in your sexy dresses with your hair and makeup done. You’re beautiful when you’re bare-faced and sleeping. And you’re beautiful when you’re exhausted with magic strain and vomiting into the toilet.” I roll my eyes, but he grips my chin, trying to cement the truth on his tongue. “You want me to kiss you right now to prove it?”
I balk, eyes wide as I try to lean back. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Don’t hide from me, Dove, not even with this, because I’ll continue to push until you see yourself the way I do. Your magic was depleted from reviving all of those students, your body is tired, and the fact that all you’ve done is vomit is impressive if you ask me.”
He’s insane. He has to be.
Pleased that he’s pleaded his case, he releases his hold on me and rises to his feet with his hand extended for me to take. Relenting, I place my palm in his and let him tug me to my feet. Chest to chest, I breathe him in as he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead.
After a moment, I take a step back and turn to the vanity, catching sight of myself in the mirror. I’ve definitely seen better days. Speaking of…
“How long was I out?” I ask, curious if I’ve lost more time than I think.
“A few hours. We’re still on the same day if that makes you feel any better,” Zane answers with a soft smile.
Exhaling, I turn on the faucet and splash water on my face before brushing my teeth the mundane way. Even then, they don't feel clean enough, so I do it again. Once I’m satisfied, I take in my reflection again and notice more patches of black hair twisted in with the pink in my ponytail. Letting the ends down, the pink cascades over the darkness as I stare at myself.
Damn.
There are definitely more than two strands now. Channeling my magic, I try to turn them pink again, but just like last time, nothing happens. Zane offers me a reassuring smile in the mirror as I brace my hands on the vanity. I don’t even need to ask what he thinks about the black strands. He’ll probably declare black his new favorite color in honor of them.
The reality is, it’s clearly not going anywhere, so I can either get mad about it or embrace the hell out of it. They’re only noticeable when my hair is up; when it’s down like this, the pink does a pretty good job of hiding it.
With my mind made up, I pull my hair back and secure a hair tie at the top of my head so the swirl of pink and black is fully on display.
