The Academy: Ensnared

17. Costumes, Bondages, and Scenes, Oh My

A/N//: Look who updated on time. Be proud of me. I swear. It wouldn't have happened without my beautiful, wonderful, awesome silent flower beta reader who literally grammar checks me to Timbuktu and back. And without the beautiful, wonderful, awesome beta reader Sam who is my idea-man, motivator, and comic relief. *Author bow* Okay.

Real reason for this author's note. There is another *Asterisk* in this chapter for a photo at the end. Helps with the visuals.

Also. This chapter is late cause Sam forgot to send me the maps she drew for me for this chapter. They are posted at the end if you want to scroll there and look at the basic map for the Academy and the apartment layout. Our skills are subpar at best, but we were trying to

Have fun reading.

Amelia

"Please?" Amelia asked, her pressing a sultry and seductive smile onto her lips. Her grey eyes raked over his relaxed form as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen.

"No." Christopher's voice came back strong and resolute.

"You didn't even consider it."

"I know."

"But..." she said as she lowered her face toward the ground. She lifted her eyes to look up at him through her lashes. She fixed him with the saddest pout that she could muster on such short notice. "Please? I had no idea you didn't like it."

"That's beside the point."

She frowned. He wasn't budging. Hell, he was completely unphased. His facial expression was flat and stony. He wasn't even giving her one of his signature smirks.

Wow. Cold.

"C'mooon," she begged, switching gears yet again.

"No."

She walked forward, placing her hands on his hips. She continued to look at him through her lashes. "Please? I'll do anything."

This earned her a smirk, but not the smirk she wanted. "You already do everything for me, 'Melia. What else can I ask you to do."

"No," she quickly interjected. "You cook. I don't."

He snorted, placing his own hands on her hips. He pushed her a step back gently. "I don't want you to cook. You're terrible at it."

"I am not!"

"Amelia, you boiled vegetable oil," he said in a deadpan. "You released toxic fumes into the apartment. We couldn't sleep here for two days."

"That is beside the point."

"I think it's incredibly valid."

Amelia frowned at him. She put on her most convincing voice. "Please Daddy?"

Christopher's face went blank for the briefest moment before his own lips turned down into a frown. "That's not fair, 'Melia."

She smiled devilishly. "Yes, it is. If you're going to hold burnt oil over my head, then I most certainly can do that," she said.

"You almost killed us."

She rolled her eyes, something that two and a half months earlier would have earned her a rather stern punishment. "Please? Will you?"

A long groan ensued from him. He was putting on a show of frustration, but deep down, she knew that he couldn't resist her. "Fine. I'll wear the damn Halloween costume."

She clapped her hands once in happiness before she turned to the table and grabbed a paper bag from it. She shoved it into his hands.

"Here. Get ready. I want to leave soon," she said as she started toward the archway of the kitchen. "We have a long day ahead of us."