2/2
2:37 pm
How Not To Fall For A Dragon
Chapter 90 90- Never Let Him Touch Your Face Like That
BLAKE
I am bored. Not mildly restless. Not slightly inconvenienced. Bored. I’ve been bored all week, and more than a little antsy. The walls of this room feel smaller than they used to. I want to go out. Move. Fly. Feel wind under my wings instead of stale air. And more than anything, I want to go check on my main hoard. Being away from it this long makes something in my chest feel hollow. It’s not logical. I know it’s safe. No one would dare touch it. But dragons aren’t built for prolonged separation from what’s theirs. And it is mine. Still, I promised Lexi. Aside from meals and walking her to class, I would stay in my room. I think it reassures her somehow, seeing me suffer the consequences of my actions. Watching me comply. Watching me restrained. Personally, I don’t care about the suspension. The rules are arbitrary. The punishment is temporary. But it bothers her to see someone hurt others without consequence. So I’m going along with it. And yes, it’s uncomfortable. But mostly, it’s just dull. I’ve been reading. Researching different types of shifters again, even though I’ve already gone through most of the material twice. I’ve been cross–referencing obscure transformation anomalies, early–onset magical triggers, delayed shifts. I’ve started sketching anatomical variations just in case something sparks. I’ve also just been drawing. That part is for me. Relaxation. Control. And of course, I have made sure to walk Lexi to every single class. She says no one has been bothering her, which is good. But I don’t trust that completely. Fear
fades. Memory dulls. I think the visual reminder, that I’m still here, that I still care about her, is important. Even if she keeps her distance. Yesterday I hinted, casually, that technically there’s no rule preventing her from coming to my room. The suspension applies to me. Not to her. I would very much like
another movie night. We haven’t had one all week. She pretended she didn’t hear me. Or maybe she did and she’s just waiting for my ‘punishment‘ to be
over before resuming normal behaviour. But when we walk together, she hasn’t been taking my arm. That is not accidental. I know she will forgive me
eventually. I know her. But I may have miscalculated how long that would take. I assumed proximity would accelerate the process. Instead, I’ve limited it.
And it doesn’t help that I haven’t been spending time with her beyond necessary moments. I can tell she’s lonely. I see it in the way her eyes linger on
groups of people who aren’t speaking to her. I hear it in the way she talks to the Academy under her breath when she thinks no one is listening. It’s beyond
frustrating. I am halfway through another sketch. Lexi again. It’s not the first attempt this week. Every time I try, something is wrong. The lines are correct.
The proportions accurate. The hair falls the right way. But her expression never comes out right. It’s the way she’s been looking at me lately. Measured and
careful. Not afraid, but not open either. I don’t want to draw that version. I want the one who laughs mid–sentence and doesn’t realise she’s doing it. I’m
staring at the page, trying to decide how to change the curve of her mouth without lying entirely, when my door slams open. The sound is violent. I’m on
my feet before I consciously register moving, the chair scraping back hard against the floor. My magic flares instinctively. Territory. I am ready to defend.
But there’s no one there. The hallway is empty.
.
“Was that you?” I ask the air. The Academy doesn’t interact with me the way it does with Lexi. It tolerates me. Sometimes responds when directly addressed.
It has opinions about me, I suspect. The door opens a little wider. That’s answer enough. There is only one reason the Academy would call me anywhere. It
doesn’t care what I do. But it cares about Lexi. She is in potions, I don’t hesitate. I run.
1 reach Lexi’s classroom and even from outside I can hear raised voices. Not casual noise. Not normal classroom chatter. Sharp exclamations. The scrape of
chairs. Something heavy hitting the floor. I don’t slow down. I shove the door open and charge inside, then stop dead. The room is chaos. Tables are
overturned. Ingredients are scattered across the floor. A cauldron has split in half. Students are pressed back against the walls like they’re trying to become
part of them. There are scorch marks on the stone floor, not fire damage. I know fire damage. This isn’t that. This looks like a blast of pure magic. Raw.
Uncontrolled. And in the centre of the room… A unicorn. Pearlescent white, her coat catching the light like polished marble. A gold mane and tail spill down
in soft waves, shimmering faintly as if threaded with sunlight. Gold hooves. A bright white horn that seems almost too luminous to look at directly, the air
around it subtly vibrating. And the eyes… Bright blue, familiar, and absolutely terrified.
“Lexi?” I say, though it isn’t really a question. Of course it’s her. The eyes are hers. The mane is the exact shade of her hair. The colour of her coat matches the dress the Academy gave her for the dance, pale, luminous, almost glowing. She’s standing in the middle of the wreckage on shaking legs. Behind her, a girl lies on the floor, unconscious but breathing. Everyone else looks like they’re one second away from bolting. I glance at the professor
“There was an incident. Poisoning. She… Shifted. The poison is gone.” He manages, voice strained. He looks stunned Like he witnessed a miracle and buan caught up yet. Unicorn. Of course. I step toward her slowly. Her eyes lock onto mine immediately Wide and searching
“Hey.” I say evenly, lowering my voice instinctively.
“You’re okay. You shifted. Turns out you’re a unicorn.” I allow the faintest smile.
“You’re gorgeous, by the way.” I add. She doesn’t calm. Her sides are heaving. Her muscles are trembling. The magic in the ait is still buzzing faintly, like
1/2
2:37 pm P Ppp.
Chapter 90 90- Never Let Him Touch Your Face Like That
static after lightning. I step closer and extend a hand. I don’t know if she’ll allow it. Not after this week. Not after Aaron. For the first time, I feel something uncomfortably close to regret. Not because I feel bad for him or because I think my actions were wrong, I don’t, but because if she trusted me fully right now, this would be easier for her. And that matters. The girl behind her groans. Lexi’s ears twitch toward the sound. Her eyes dart back. She tries to turn too quickly, her hooves slipping slightly on the smooth stone. Her legs buckle. She collapses forward, clumsy and uncoordinated, hitting the floor harder than she should. I’m beside her instantly. A few students edge closer, curiosity overriding fear. I turn my head and let just enough of my magic show in my eyes.
They stop.
“Get out. Now.” I say calmly. It isn’t shouted. It doesn’t need to be. There’s a beat of hesitation, then one by one, they file out. The professor stays. The girl on the floor behind Lexi is conscious now, dazed but upright, leaning weakly against a table. I kneel beside Lexi again. This time, when I reach out, she doesn’t hesitate. She presses her head into my palm. The contact is warm. Softer than I expected. Her coat is impossibly smooth under my fingers. I stroke along the line of her face slowly, deliberately. With my other hand, I run my fingers through her mane. It feels like silk. Her breathing slows a fraction.
“You’re okay, Lexi. You’re safe.” I murmur.
“And hey, you can shift. You did it perfectly. I suppose I failed at figuring it out. That’s a little annoying.” I let out a quiet huff of amusement.
“But there isn’t really anything I can do about that, huh?” I tell her. Lexi’s eyes soften slightly. Not fully calm, but not spiralling.
“I promise I’ll keep you safe.” I continue.
“You can turn back whenever you’re ready. I’m sure you’re exhausted after shifting for the first time. As soon as you turn back, I’ll take you somewhere quiet to rest.” i suggest. She opens her eyes fully and looks up at me. There’s something sheepish in the look. And something else. I frown.
“You don’t know how to change back… Do you?” I ask. She gives the tiniest, weakest nod. I inhale slowly. Okay.
“Alright.” I say, steady and certain,
“That’s fine. That’s completely fine. I’ll talk you through it.” I tell her. I shift slightly so I’m directly in front of her, making sure she can focus on me and
not the wrecked classroom.
“This is natural for you. It’s not something you learned. It’s something you are. You don’t need instructions, you just need to remember how it feels to be haman.” I assure her as I hold her gaze,
“You will be fine.” I promise.
Comments
R Visitor
FINALLY!!!! 444
7 days ago
42
SHARE
9 Comments >
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
