Captured (A Modern Medusa Story)

EPILOGUE: AVERISTA♥️

Now here I stood, imprisoned by Athena's sight, like the first time I saw her in a university lecture hall. When all the chaos began. But I wasn't interested in recreating that chaos. I wasn't interested in poking old wounds that never seemed to heal. So I turned and looked away from her. Even though it was the most painful thing to do.

I kept my resolve.

I had, most of the time, been a sucker for the upper hand, but also secretly high-key curious if Phoebe could initiate the chase before I lost my control and, goddess forbid, went after her instead. I contemplated on having a taste of her lips again. How long would I have to wait until we're both ready? The hold-up was going to kill me.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?"

I almost forgot that Iruka existed, clinging onto me because yeah, she could get visibly emotional over a little poem while I was the mastermind of stoicism.

I hated how quickly I nodded at her question. I couldn't take it back, so I left it that way.

"I think she's . . ." Maybe it wouldn't hurt to not lie to my snake-sister for once in a lifetime, right? "She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Euryale. That's just it."

I kept my gaze on our feet, even though I could feel the lady next to me seeing right through my soul.

There was a moment of silence before Iruka opened her mouth again.

"You still think about her, don't you?"

This time, her question was low and hesitated. Like she was afraid I would snap at her if she dared ask. Which I would have if we weren't in the middle of a horde of people. Iruka and Helene both knew how much that topic triggered me. So they did their best to steer away from it.

"S-sometimes." I lied. I thought about Phoebe all the time. "But she's better off out of my mind if I care about my sanity."

Lies oh lies. I didn't give two shits about sanity if Phoebe was the case. Nothing made sense without her. My sanity belonged to her.

Phoebe's reading ended. Followed up by a storm of claps and bravos from the congress. I clapped along, and once she got down from the stage and was welcomed to a chair to sign copies for her readers, I forced my attention away from her. Iruka helped, moving me around to greet more people and even urging me to flirt with random pretty girls for fun.

In no time, Iruka had fallen into a conversation with some random dude and I was left to wander on my own. I was about to leave the damn place until—

"Professor Msafiri!" A man's voice called, and I turned around to meet an old lad. I immediately threw all other thoughts out of the window. I missed that man!

"Mr. Tritone!" I lightened up at the sight of an old teacher of mine. One of my grey-haired college lecturers that helped me graduate back then. He had too much perkiness for his age, I might say.

"Isn't it a lucky coincidence running into your smart face out here?" He chuckled, and I gave him a quick hug, which he returned.

"Best coincidence, if you ask me." I smiled.

"I didn't know you were, you know, an art person." He pointed, gesturing at the posters filled with the cover of Phoebe's gorgeous poetry book.

"Oh, I'm really not." I lied. "Just brought a friend who's a big fan of the author, that's all."

"Sweet. Speaking of the author . . ." Before I realized it, Mr. Tritone was waving to someone over from behind me. "Phoebe, sweetheart, could you spare us a second, please?

My face fell at the sight of the beautiful creature, who unhesitantly obliged to the old man with an excited sweet chuckle.
Shit. So much for avoiding her.

"Miss McQuinn, meet Professor Msafiri." Mr. Tritone introduced once Phoebe stood next to him.

There was an awkward, silent moment of me staring at Phoebe's forehead for the sake of avoiding her eyes. On Phoebe's side, she looked like she wanted the earth to swallow her whole when Mr. Tritone ushered us together eagerly.

"Miss McQuinn, as we all know, is a famous poet." Mr. Tritone continued to speak when he realized neither Phoebe nor I was going to break the ice any time soon. "And Professor Msafiri here, is one of the best herpetology lecturers from Daresm College. I'm sure you've heard of her before somewhere, right, Miss McQuinn?"

"I'm afraid not." Phoebe finally opened her mouth, not dropping her perfect poker radiant face that she showered everyone. "But isn't it lovely to meet her now?"

She dared to hold her hand out to me.

My gaze lingered on the perfectly manicured fingers, travelling up in slow motion to the tattoo of braille words on the side of her bare forearm.
'Wildflowers' it read, and my heart skipped a beat before my eyes moved up to her silver necklace, plump red lips, thin nose, and settled on her stunning orbs. The egyptian blue trapped me inside of it.

As much as I had been trying to avoid those damn eyes the entire time, looking at them felt like I had reached seventh heaven.

I shook her hand; the touch igniting a fire that vividly took both of us everything to hide under our masks of apathy. I didn't know how long we were stuck like that until Mr. Tritone cleared his throat to turn our attention away from each other.

"Uh–It's lovely to meet you too, Miss McQuinn. Always been a fan of your poetry." I gave her a similar fake smile before dropping her hand.

"So you're a fan now?" Mr. Tritone murmured much to himself, and I wished I could smack him away right there.

Phoebe bit her lips at that, holding back a genuine grin before shooting me 'So you actually read my books?' sort of glance.

"Didn't know a serious herpetologist like you could be interested in something like poetry at all, if I'm being honest. " She pointed.

So she had details about me? I pretended that I wasn't fluttered at her response.

"Everything else is just here to give us money, Miss McQuinn. But art is what we all live for, of course." I played along, though I meant every word, hands in my pants pockets.

There's something about Phoebe's expression that told me she wasn't really listening to what I was saying, anyway. She was biting her lips too hard, and it took everything in me to hold back from reaching over and stopping her from doing it. I hastily excused myself, startling Mr. Tritone at my abrupt decision. But the second I took the first step, a hand caught the back of my arm. I was sure Mr. Tritone's hands were neither that soft nor owned that type of lukewarm.

"Would you have a drink with me before you go, Professor? Please."

Her velvety voice, tender, nuzzling my eardrums. Like autumn leaves over the ground, I found myself falling for it.

But I caught myself in mid-air.

I ignored Phoebe and walked away. Because, after everything, she owned my trust.

I trusted her enough to firmly believe that she would follow me no matter where I go.

THE END

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