Hendrix ✓

12 ★ Mercy

"Yeah, like you don't have enough of those things in the first place." I close my mouth, because she's not wrong, and I don't feel like arguing with her. Or talking to her.

Savannah gathers the cameras, keeping busy with the mess while she continues to glance at me. She arrests for a moment, crouched on her feet while her light eyes run over me. My second in command is looking me up and down, and I don't like how observant she's being.

"What's your deal?" She wonders out loud. At first, I don't respond because it's really none of her business, but my stubborn friend continues to press me for information. "You look constipated."

I glare at her words, knowing full well that she's trying to rile me up. It's not going to work, not this time. Because for once I actually have something to look forward to.

"I'm tutoring my mate today." I inform her, holding my scowl in place to show her my disapproval of this conversation. It's not amusing to me when my Beta tries to interrogate me for information. I'm the one in charge, not her, and sometimes she forgets that. She needs to remember her place.

Her face falls slightly, all traces of humor vanishing. A sudden look of vulnerability comes over her before she rushes to cover it up with narrowed eyes and a smirk. How strange.

"She really must be your mate if you're acting like this. You never act like this." She tells me over her shoulder as she returns to pick up the cameras and shove them into her bag with little to no regard. They are broken after all I suppose.

"Acting like what, exactly?" I ask in mild frustration.

Savannah turns to glance at me with a sad smile that I don't quite understand.

"Isn't it obvious? You're holding your breath, Veiler."

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Hendrix POV

I fiddle with my pencil restlessly as I flick my gaze over to Cedric for the 100th time. I've only been sitting here for 10 minutes and I still can't focus on a single thing except for him and his stupidly beautiful face. Why does he have to be so handsome? Can't he see I'm trying to be a good pupil and learn my stuff.

He brought a stack of old books, much to my chagrin. I've never been much of a reader. Of course, I've done required reading for school and all that, somehow I forced myself through those. Reading for fun, however? Never my thing. I've been too busy memorizing every word of every song by Prince to do that.

"I'm sure you'll like this one. Most young girls do." He holds out a copy of Pride and Prejudice with a sly grin that always makes me a bit light headed.

I don't need a man. I don't need a man. I don't need a man.

As I continue to chant in my head, I take the brick sized book, looking down at it dubiously before shifting my attention to my Professor who stands in front of my desk like a rugged biker in his leather jacket and dark jeans.

"This is a romance novel, right? How can a book about romance change literature as a whole?" I ask him, because I would honestly like to know. It makes no sense to me, but I can't say I know much about literature.