Heavens Whisper | K.TH

Pools of Green

WHITE

Thankfully the marks hadn't shown up yet.

But one thing I really, really wasn't thankful about was the fact that V was currently burning holes into my face with a gaze full of shock and anger.

"You must be joking." He whispers, his hands white as it tightens on the top of the desk. "You did what?!"

"I told you." Dragging out the answer as best as I could, I twist my fingers together in anxiety. "She's going to set us up against each other. In the Trials."

"Why?!"

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" I exclaim frustratingly, my expression slowly matching his. "Just let you die with whatever that black thing was?

He sighs, a deep breath from his throat.

"She's turned her sights from me to you, demoiselle." V states, his arms crossed thoughtfully. "You have no idea what that means for you."

"Probably something bad." I retort, my voice coming out sharper than I'd expected. His green eyes slash to my face, and I feel my anger slowly sinking at his cool gaze. "But—"

"I'm sorry."

His eyes narrow.

"Which one?"

That makes me wince all the way down to my core, and I see a ghost of a smile on his tightened lips as I rub my fingertips together.

"For you know, everything." I confess, leaning into the wall. "But for doing that. The, um— just a few hours ago, yeah? Sorry, I was so—"

I'm stuttering like a mentally challenged idiot.

And I look like one too, with the flash of heat turning my cheeks to a light blush of scarlet. I can still remember the feeling of his skin against my lips, and all of a sudden I regret even pulling up this topic in the first place.

I regret coming here.

"I get what you're talking about, demoiselle."

"You do?" The blush comes up warmer, and I find myself nodding for the eighth time before stopping. "I mean, of course you do. I just wanted to say I was sorry— I was really angry so I didn't really think straight."

"It's also my fault." He says coolly, and I'm surprised for a second at his apology before he adds quickly. "But I should've known that you couldn't take something like that."

When I flop back limply on his bed and release a deep sigh, he shoots me a sharp glance.

"Get up. What are you doing?"

"Why would I bother practicing anymore?" Trying to hide the bitterness in my voice, I spread myself out on the bed. "I'm going to die in a week or two."

"White, you're not going to die." He hisses, seeming impatient. "Control. Sit down."

"I honestly don't see the point of this."

But this time, different from the countless times I'd been ordered by him to sit on his floor, I feel that something is wrong. It's not the usual silent boringness when I close my eyes, but a shiver that runs down my spine.