CHAPTER 020.
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Trigger Warning: Pedophilia, Sexual Content

After escaping from Ares' clutches, it didn't take too long for the white cat's sprint to eventually reduce into a casual pace.

By the time, Fortune finally reached your room, classes were already starting. This was even further announced by a bell whose infernal chime startled him without a warning.

A hiss leaves his throat. Ears flicking back; his white fur automatically stood on its end. The cat jumped in fright, later pressing himself close to the wall as if desperately seeking for comfort and security.

Despite already gaining a position that he can deem as comfortable, his body still can't calm down. Yellow irises were still frantically flicking around. He cautiously scouted the area around him in case of danger. Hah, to see him alarmed like this was almost ironic.

Why would a cat like him be even scared? We all know that he's no ordinary cat. He has magic to fight off any intruders. Plus he didn't even seem to mind that he was treading on thin ice earlier. He even had the guts to taunt the school's bully into almost insanity.

Sure, taunting Ares might sound simple, so trivial.

Him just casually invading a mortal's mind and teasing them his capability to grant all the good lucks with ease may seem so harmless.

But in reality, it wasn't.

It would never be harmless.

With Ares just being hexed at that time, it is important to remember that any mortal's mind in such a delicate state is extremely susceptible to any kind of alteration.

And yet Fortune, despite being aware of that knowledge, still decided to play tricks with Ares.

If the cat wasn't being careful, the psychiatric invasion could have led to an extreme case of mania. It could have resulted into a manic bloody spree! Fortunately, that didn't happen ⱼᵤₛₜ yₑₜ. But in any case, since he did invade Ares's mind earlier, there was the possibility that he could have already tampered his cognition.

He might have distorted it already.

Permanently.

The poor man might as well can never gather his sanity anymore after being hexed.

ᥴꫝꪖ᥅ꪑ in itself, after all, is dangerous.

While  ᥴꫝꪖ᥅ꪑ is indeed a love spell that was meant to evoke the feelings of affection out of the essence of the afflicted being, it is very important to take note that this affection comes in a complete package.

In other words, (Y/N), the love that they have for is as p̸̢̱̠̞̲͆̽̅͊͛͋̾̚ͅủ̴̠͙̺̮̪̲̜̤̅̔̐̕̕͝͠ṛ̷̢̠͚̟͉̻̪̆̅͌͝e̴̢̬̊͌̈́͛̐̊͝ as it can get; it is everything that their poor, weak souls can muster. It is not simply a shallow attaction to your looks or personality; it is an absolute yearning for your being.

It sounds romantic.

Well, it could have been romantic. But unfortunately for you, not everyone loves like a selfless saint.

One unique trait of being a mortal is that they are their own individual: everyone has their own way in showing their love.

And yet, with their typical tainted souls, one can already expect that their expressions might not come out as pure as it should have been.

But well, that's humans for you.

Some humans might be more selfish than the rest. Some perceive love so unrealistically, that it most often blinds them. Some humans are more fierceful, more violent in expressing their seething love. While some humans find the thought of their beloved being safe and happy already fulfilling.

And yet as humans, they are also prone to change—to instability, to corruption.

Fortune thinks that their love can only shifts to a more twisted one as time went on, only perfectly epitomizing the natural deterioration of their once virtuous souls.

That's why he can never find the idea romantic.

Fortune thought that excessive is a better description for this luck you wished. With how extreme and depraved some of their love can be—if it was possible, one might even actually try to paint the Earth in dark crimson and offer it to you as their bouquet of roses.

But good thing is that they are just mortals, the cat can still sleep later in peace, with no worries and dangers to fret about.

The most extremist that they can possibly get is killing themselves, which is fine. Why should a cat care about some human's death anyways? If that was their choice, then so be it. Fortune's not so judgmental to nitpick the decision of someone else.

Besides, he's just a cat.

A cat who can grant good lucks to anyone.

Undoubtedly, ᥴꫝꪖ᥅ꪑ has the potential to drive anyone into madness. Fortune even thought that this duty does not compliment him.

He did not find this lucky at all.

It astonishes him how someone would find the idea of being swarmed by love spelled fools as lucky when this would obviously only lead to a catastrophe.

Fortune doubts that this mortal (Y/N) has enough hearts to reciprocate all their feelings back. You seem like you were about to collapse from all the stress and affections that you were suddenly flooded.

If you were desperately seeking for love, then you could have just wished for a one true love. That would have been so much easier to grant and, at the same time, way more genuine.

Rather than greedily wishing for everyone's love that was, in reality, imposed by magic. An illusion that would only satisfy you at first but never wholly. This might be even too much for you to stomach.

It's obvious that right now you actually seem to be regretting it, but how unfortunate for you, there's no turning back. With the wish uttered, it has been sealed. For life and for death.

While Fortune feels guilty at times, he had to fulfill the instructions his master bidded him. The cat can only continue to ᥴꫝꪖ᥅ꪑ more people—more people that he thinks will love you well.

The cat finally settled down from his alarmed state. He looked at the entrance to your room, and it was close.

He blinked his eyes. It wasn't like he cannot pass through those barriers; he can; but exhaustion seems to engulfs his body after that moment of sharp vigilance and he can't help but let out a yawn.

He eventually decided to lie down and curl his body on the floor for some quick rest.

Hexing can wait; he'll rest first.

Fortune was not in a hurry to do his job. He had all the time he wanted to. Plus, he did not want to completely destroy your day by hexing all your male classmates in one go. He'll just—

Someone suddenly stops before him, and he sluggishly looks up to see a middle-aged man staring down at him quite so sternly. His glasses is slightly glinting from the artificial light that reflects on it, but it cannot conceal the light grey eyes glaring from behind.

"Meow"

And a waft of ᥴꫝꪖ᥅ꪑ was also relayed.

The man pays no heed to the strange white cat. Pushing his glasses to the bridge of his nose, he coldly turns his focus to the door and opens it and then enters.

Fortune blinks his yellow irises.

Like he didn't do anything absurb at all.

Before Fortune totally shuts his eyes for a brief nap, he somehow happens to perceive a familiar figure swiftly pass by him.

He lifts his head, lazily blinking his yellow eyes a few times, trying to process if that was actually his female counterpart, Misfortune.

However, even if that was her, he soon ended up letting the thought go since he did not really have the energy to chase after her. Plus, he was far too drowsy to confirm it anyways.

So what if that was Misfortune? It is not his business to mind at all—and besides, what could happen anyways? There's nothing wrong with letting someone experience bad luck every once in a while.

Fortune yawned again. Dropping his head again for the second time, he snuggled it close to his white tummy as he succumbed to sleep once more.

✭ ✭ ✭

When you entered your classroom, you didn't expect your classmates to suddenly flock over you. For a second, you thought that they had been hexed. It almost made you bolt yourself out of there.

But as your gaze cautiously raked over their faces, that doesn't seem to be the case. It isn't overbearing like Ares, who had aggressively invaded your personal space and sniffed your scent without a warning.

Their approach was far more subdued and considerate. Their concerns seemed genuine, as if they really were just worried for a classmate's well-being.

However, you were confused at first with their first few statement. They were asking if you're fine now and if you have recovered from the flu. But what flu?

Your brows were momentarily furrowed; but as they proceeded on with their concerns, you realized that they were never aware of you going missing.

So that's why no one on the school bus earlier made a fuss when you finally turned up. Nikki's friends didn't even bat an eye at you as they greeted your sister and conversed with her.

You're not being self-centered; you know that ignoring you is a normal occurrence, but you doubt anyone would have a dry reaction towards someone who went missing for days.

Seems like your family decided to conceal your reckless conduct from everyone's knowlege. It's clear that they didn't even bother to report you missing to the authorities.

You almost have the urge to scoff at their indifference, but you ended up letting go a sigh which your classmates have taken as an indication that you're probably still feeling unwell.

The class president who was known as Jesper gave you looks of sympathy. "(Y/N), we'll be happy to assist you to the clinic if you think that you need more rest. Don't worry about your homeworks. We can always ask the professor to be lenient with you, and we'll also share you our notes. What's more important is your complete recovery."

"Oh—uh!"

Your face warms, not used to such gestures, as you quickly try to assure them that you're completely well right now. "There's no need of doing that! But I appreciate your kind thoughts. Thank you," you stutter, awkwardly waving your hands in refusal.

"Oh, aren't you such a cutie?" A friend of the class president laughs at your flustered reaction, making you blush more. If your memory serves you right, her name is probably Rosalia.

"No need to thank us. It is only normal for us classmate to look out for each other. Now, if you need notes for all the courses you missed before, I actually uploaded mine in our class drive; and I think some of our classmates uploaded theirs as well..."

"Well, I did!" A girl suddenly raised her hand. You immediately recognize her as Holly; the timid but very responsible secretary. When she noticed your attention on her, she grinned at you but it turned sheepish when she realized something.

"Oh, uh, well, if you're planning to look over my notes, please don't mind my terrible writing. It wasn't originally like that, but I was trying my best to write everything down, so hehehe..."

You gently nod, which lights up her freckled face again. "But if you have questions, don't be afraid to ask! I'll try my best to answer."

"You can also ask us too," Jesper pipes in while Rosalia nods in agreement. "Also, don't forget to check the comprehensive guide for the test schedules and deadlines. We don't have any projects due this week, but I think there's a test coming up on Thursday."

You lower your head as if to bow in appreciation. "Thank you. Thank you," you repeat until your quiet voice gradually trails off.

You are not at all an introvert, and yet their overwhelming kindness can't help but make you feel bashful. It's so strange that even though they're not your friends, they're very happy to lend a hand.

But you don't feel sick at all nor uneasy; you know that they're not affected by anything. Besides it's not only towards you that they are like this. They have always been like this to everyone.

Your classmates right now is just one of a kind; ever since the school year started, the people in your class have been looking after each other's back, not caring if they're friends or not.

Rosalia cooed at you; her red curls bouncing as she jumps in zest. "Aw! Of ccourse, you're always welcome, cutie!" She stretches her hand and is about to reach out when someone plump pounced on you. You then found yourself suddenly engulfed in a tight bear hug.

"(Y/N)!" the culprit affectionally squealed.

After experiencing a lot of things these past few days, your first instinct was to shove this body off of you. And you nearly pushed her away. You nearly did. But just as you were about to, she called out your name. You immediately recognize the timbre of the raspy voice to belong to one of your dearest friends, Hazel.

The discomfort you were feeling settled down. A smile tugged your lips. Your body automatically started to relax against her hold.

"Well, good morning to you too Hazel," you greet her back; your voice slightly trembling as you can't help but start to get a bit too emotional.

Her hug striking a chord within you; it gave you a sense of comfort—that somehow, everything is going to be okay at the end of the day. You close your eyes, cherishing this rare little moment, before you get pulled to reality again.

"I'm hoping that you're alright now? Your sister told me that you had a terrible flu and might be absent for the whole week. I'm glad that you're able to recover fast." Hazel is the first one to pull away, but she maintains her hold on your arms.

You bite the inside of your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at the lie your sister told her. "Oh, did she tell you that?"

She nodded.

You looked away, murmuring, "I see you've been spending time with her." Then you huff, focusing your attention on her again, as you try to smile like you weren't affected at all.

"Then it's good that I'm finally here. I can't let my sister steal you away now, can I? I'm afraid that if I stayed home for a few more days, she might as well become your new bestie."

Despite trying to pretend that those words are just sarcasm and that you're alright and unaffected, the bitterness can't help but seep out of your words.

No matter how much you try to conceal it with humor, your words had already been been tainted with green. It declares itself so openly that you think that everyone will be able to hear it, even at their first listen.

But strangely, Hazel doesn't seem to pick it up. Your words were taken but, strangely, not processed. She continued to smile like nothing was wrong. It makes you wonder if she's really that dumb to be able to ignore the obvious hints, or if feigning ignorance is truly her own choice to take.

"Freak! How'd you know that I have been spending time with your sister while you're gone? Are you a mind reader?" She laughed, but you didn't. You don't really know how to react to that.

"Well, your sister is really kind. Since you were absent, I had no one to accompany me. I was drowning in loneliness, you know. But then your sister suddenly came and took me into her friend group. At first, I was hesitant, but they were all welcoming. I couldn't help but enjoy their company."

You didn't realize that your smile had dropped; and a jealous expression had taken over your face. It only dawned on you when Hazel suddenly pinched your cheeks and pulled it upwards, forcibly tugging a smile on your lips.

"Hey, don't worry! While they're sort of my besties now, you will remain as my one and only number one bestfriend! Have I not proven to you my loyalty? We have been friends for almost five years already, and yet you still see me here sticking around."

"It's not that," you mutter.

You noticed that your classmates have already started to retreat, giving you a moment of privacy with Hazel. You decide to continue, giving her a solemn gaze.

"I'm not stopping you from making more friends, but can it be others and not Nikki and her friends? You know how I'm not comfortable with them. She—"

"It's normal for siblings to fight, but I know that Nikki truly cares for you, (Y/N)," Hazel interrupts; and at the same time, you feel a stone start to form in your throat, obstructing the words that you were about to say.

Well since you can't even say anything anyways, you resorted to just bitting your lips. You hope that this might also suppress the tears that have started to sear your eyes.

"She's just... you know." She sighs, dropping her hold over your face as she instead pats you. "You should be the one to understand her situation. She's your sister after all. But at least she's improving now, right? She's learning to control her emotions better?"

You stay quiet.

Her gaze soften; a trace of guilt in her hazel-like eyes because she didn't really want to make you feel that she's choosing your sister's side over yours. She just wants you to know Nikki's situation as well.

"Don't be mad please?"

Hazel begs, gently taking your hands in hers. "I just want you guys to be okay. Your sister have been consulting with me about you, wishing to repair the declining relationship that you guys have. I wouldn't have helped her if I felt that it was insincere. But she is. She is truly sorry for hurting you those previous years..."

"Sorry?" You silently echo, yet your tone is full of disbelief.

You push her hands away, taking yours back, as you then start to aggressively rub your eye with the back of your palm, wiping the tears away before it even start streaming down.

"If she was being sorry, then she wouldn't have treated me like crap again earlier," you scoff.

"Did she...?"

Hazel's brows furrowed. Her gaze dropping over to your wrist, but you cover those barely visible marks with your other hand.

You give her a fake smile. "What? Is there something to be surprise about? Are you not used to it?"

Hazel tries to open her mouth—tries to express her disapproval; but no words comes out. She couldn't seem to come up with any rebuttel, obviously left speechless by your series of questions. Your smile turned more bitter and yet you still waited, but she only stood there gaping at you for a few more seconds.

No humans have unlimited patience, so your patience eventually ran out after a few minutes of waiting; your resentment for her words, on the other hand, only piled up.

Realizing that interacting with her longer will only ruin your mood further for the day, you finally decide to turn your back on her.

"(Y/N)!" She tries to grab your wrist. "I'm sorry! I shouldn't have, but—"

You flick it off, without giving her any more chance to sour your mood further. "I'm gonna eat lunch alone later. If you need company, just go to Nikki and her friends. They'll probably be happy to take you in again."

Hazel tries to call for your attention again, but the school bell rings signalling that class hours is about to start. Since Hazel and you were not classmates to begin with, she has no choice but to leave you alone.

Giving you one last apologetic look, she leaves the room. You paid no mind to her at all as you instead occupied yourself with settling down in your seat. It didn't take too long before your professor enters the room.

Registering his identity to be that terror teacher. you feel a sweat drip over your temple. Shit, it's him. You unconsciously straighten your posture; the negative feelings that you have felt earlier had been replaced with uneasiness in being in the same room with this alleged-to-be sadist man.

His white loose ponytail slightly swaying as he silently walked toward the large wooden table. The man was not careful at all as he dropped his plastic envelope on the surface. It ended up making a noise that startled a lot of your classmates out of their wits.

When they realized his presence, they were suddenly stricken with panic. Hastily, they returned to their seats, inadvertently bumping into one another and the tables as they did so.

You pressed your lips together as you nervously waited for everyone to take their seats, mentally mumbling a prayer to whomever, hoping that this fucking terror of a teacher didn't wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

Eventually, the class finally settled down.

And yet he still hadn't spoken a word.

With his palms resting near the edge of his table, he observed you guys. The light grey eyes behind his rectangular frames coldly scanned every one of your faces as if he was searching a high-profile criminal in your midst.

Soon, it settled down on you.

Your heart, which has already been beating so fast, increased tremendously. Your palms also start to sweat that you can only subtly wipe it off your pants below your desk. Why the fuck is he staring at you? Is it because of your absences? Is he mad?

Wait, no.

You squinted your eyes when you saw something change in his expression. It was so small, almost imperceptible. But you had been staring, staring so hard at him that you couldn't help but notice how the corner of his lip just suddenly quirked.

What the fuck. Did he just smirk?

But before you could even dwell longer on that, the trace of that suspicious smirk faded. He looked stony again, and his attention had already turned elsewhere.

It was so quick that you almost thought that you were imagining things—that maybe you were starting to become delusional again and thought that another had been hexed by that fucking cat.

Which is impossible right? The cat is not even here with you. And they're surely not that stupid to also involve a teacher in your fuck luck. Right?

Right?!

Especially this fucking professor! Mr. Hyde is a well-known sadist in the campus; and while he still looks hot for a thirties, there's just no way he'll qualify as a perfect lover.

God, he loves failing his students; and you are not even an exception. Your grade in his subject can only be compared to someone that is hanging on a cliff for his dear life.

There's just no way...

You blink, and your gaze suddenly met his again.

There was that smirk again, but this time around you weren't able to detect it because you are now internally panicking.

Because can you just fucking believe it? That annoying professor had the fucking audacity to suddenly announce a surprised pop-quiz out of the blue.

"—No erasure. No correction tape on the paper. I will not accept anything that looks awful to my eyesight, so better make sure that your writing looks neat and legible. If I didn't accept your paper, then there's nothing we can do. You know my rules."

You raise your hand.

He perceives that, but he doesn't say a word. Strangely, he just stares at you.

I mean, being stared at by him is normal as he always does that to intimidate his students and yet, for some reason, you couldn't help but feel that there's something off with his stares this morning.

It was as if he was also absorbing every detail of you at the same time, from your eyes to your expression and right down to the blemishes on your face. You feel so conscious, so anxious...

But despite the uneasiness you're feeling from his stares, you didn't falter your gaze. You also stare back, even daring to look at the little pimples that he had just below his hairline. It's barely visible from your position though because you're seated in the second row, and your vision isn't really that perfect. But it's enough to distract you from pissing yourself in fright.

When you're so close to dropping your hand, it was at that moment that he finally gives a nod; a cue to urge you to proceed with your inquiries. You stand up. You then muster all your courage to be able to speak, but your voice still ends up shaking.

"Mr. Hyde, about that, I was absent the past few days. Can I be excused from this qu—"

"No," he just sharply cuts in, jolting you. "I don't care if you're absent or what. If you don't pass your papers to me by the end of this period, you will receive a zero from me. There are no exceptions."

What. The. Fuck?

He really is a fucking sadist, isn't he?! There are no exceptions? He knew that you were absent! How in the fuck are you going to take his test when you know nothing. You gape at him, just looking so confused and distressed.
"Understand?"

No, I fucking don't.

Contrary to your thoughts, you can only humble yourself before him. Despite hating it, you can only accept their words. Your life had always been like this anyways. You always yielding as they pushed you around; it was as if it was ingrained in you.

"—I understand," you softly mumble as you take your seat, hiding the middle finger from his line of sight.

But hey, despite being treated shit by him like this, this was, at least, able to relieve you and assure you that he wasn't hexed by that crazy cat.

✭ 𝕿𝖎𝖒𝖊 𝕾𝖐𝖎𝖕 ✭

Great, great, he's really fucking great!

Thirty minutes in, and your paper is barely filled. In fact the only words you were able to write down are your name, date, and section.

It's stupid, but there's a very very very small part of you—a dot part of you—that almost wished that he was hexed in the first place. Maybe you wouldn't be suffering like this if he gave you his goodwill.

Despite knowing that it's not exactly your fault, you still couldn't help but be ashamed by it. Being compared with your sister several times, there is already a pre-existing insecurity lingering inside of you, gnawing at you whenever and right now.

It eventually pushed you to place your arms over the table, concealing the paper from the eyes of any people, most especially that ruthless professor!

Mr. Hyde really did you dirty because not only did he force a test on you without having any idea about its coverage, you couldn't even bullshit your way out of the questions.

Because... surprise—surprise! His startling pop-up quiz just has to be an essay type.

Skimming over the paper, you felt like you were even on the verge of spilling nosebleeds. No matter how hard you stare at the questions, no matter how hard you ponder the probabilities, you can't come up with anything that might make sense.

In the end, you could only comfort yourself.

You're not dumb; you're not dumb, (Y/N), you repetitively whisper to yourself while your soul slowly breaks down from the stress of everything. If this was only a personal essay, then you could have bullshit your way; but this was too specific for you to answer.

You sniff.

Then you look up from your paper for one second, wishing to see the situation around you, trying to see if anyone can also sympathize. However, just as you ripped your attention away from the paper, it was again instantaneously taken by his light grey eyes.

Your heart jumps. Your lips press. You tighten the grip on your pen. But unlike earlier, you didn't stiffen. Mr. Hyde had been staring at you without fail since earlier, that it didn't surprise you anymore to catch his gaze again for the seventh time.

However, that doesn't mean that you're not weirded out by it anymore. In fact, you're not even weirded out by him—you are completely creeped out by him. Who would want people to stare at them anyways, especially a teacher? Who cares if they're hot, but this is just going overboard. Not to mention, creepy!

Why is he even staring at you to begin with? Have you done something to offend him? Have you somehow become his new target and now made his mission to fail you in his subject?

Despite your eyes on him, he was not shameful at all for being caught staring. Never once did it falter, he just continued to brazenly look at you with his—as always—cold expression. Strangely though, despite him looking so aloof, you couldn't help but sense a feeling of smugness radiating off his figure.

... or are you just overthinking things?

Who knows. But you were already aware of the fact that Mr. Hyde is an evil sadist, so yes, there can be a slight truth to that intuition. Knowing that you have zero knowledge of his test coverage due to your recent absences, he's probably enjoying every second of your current misery.

With his glasses unconsciously slipping off again, he makes another attempt to lift it to the bridge of his nose. The lens glint, temporarily hiding his pale grey eyes from your sight. You press back the instinct to sigh, and you look down.

Despite drowning in misery right now, you don't want to give him the satisfaction of letting him personally witness my breaking state. So you clutch your pen and start to write down balderdash, making a show that you actually know something about the test.

You know that you're going to fail anyways, but at least you were able to deceive him for a little bit and crush his callous delight for at least temporarily.

As expected that perked Mr. Hyde's interest. For the first time since he distributed the papers, his expression had a deviation. His eyes narrowed. His thick brows furrowed. His foot even stopped tapping. He found himself taken aback when you started writing.

You looked so serious, so concentrated in an instant. It was a sudden change of countenance that it startled him and made him blink, losing his calm composure for a moment. His head even felt light; that he had to grab the edge of his table to make sure that he won't lose his balance and fall.

What is this feeling?

While he did adore your baffled reaction, he couldn't help but get completely dazzled by your confident expression. Aroused even, at the sight of your pretty features slightly scrunching as your pen scribbles on and on. Is this even possible—for him to find you even more attractive than earlier when he never really noticed your existence before?

It's as if Cupid suddenly decided to aim for his heart and the tip of his arrow landed right at the moment when his eyes met yours. The world suddenly shifted in his eyes, and for the first time in his teaching career he didn't feel repulsed by a student.

No... Instead, he was attracted to you.

Yes, you. (L/N). His student. Someone who has a ten year gap with him. Someone whose grades is even dangling in his subject. Someone whose first name he didn't even recall.

Ridiculous. How utterly ridiculous!

He already had the reputation of being known as deranged by the students of this institution, and he just had to prove it further by being attracted to someone he shouldn't have and is even beneath him by age, by status, and even by intellect.

And yet his hormones rage for you—is raging for you. Despite his current age being considered at the state of maturity, it was only just now that something awakened in him; and he wanted to carry you and smash you on his bed and see if you can maintain that confidence as he punish you for failing his class.

His body went rigid as he felt it twitch.

The man touched his glasses' bridge then shook his head to himself. He is insane—definitely insane. To react like this for someone who barely even bloomed, he should be disgusted with himself. He should be, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop the corner of his lip from lifting. He was far too amused by this feeling.

And so what if you are his student?

You are h̶̢̛͇͖͔̰̺͔͖̝̙͐̆̈̂̆̕͠í̶̥̯̟͖̮̳̞͌̾̈s̸͇̞̹̠̗̪͆̇̂͂ student.

His.

He was the one, after all, assigned to have complete a̵̢̦͙̱̙̣̾͜ṵ̷̢̧̹̺̜͙̻̻̰̃̑̀t̵̥̰̻̪̳͖̭̀̌͒̀͋̈́̓͐̄̕ḩ̸̮̹͙̩̞̈́̾̋̓̓́͊͘̕ơ̷̳̺̪͖̻̼̹͌̀̓̿̒̔̈́͘͝r̸̩͍̋͊͌̐͊̏̽̉͜͝ḯ̶̬̦̓̽̐̈́̓̓̀̕ţ̶̛̺͂̀̓͑̊̓͆̈́y̸̰͚͓̌̍ over you. Not others. But him. So they don't have exactly the right to dictate his actions. After all, you are put under his care. It is mandated. And it would be stupid to doubt the decision, since the administrators knows what they are doing—they know that he is your best option to straighten you up.

And yes, he'll be happy to take the offer. He'll be happy to take care of you. It was really careless of him anyways to overlook such an important matter. You were under his wing for months, but he only just noticed you now. You nearly became a disappointment.

But no worries, no worries...

From now on, his eyes will be set on you.

He'll train you to be his teacher's pet.

Aren't you so lucky, (L/N)?

Not everyone has the opportunity to be treated so kindly by him. He'll even take you in as his pet. After all, who doesn't want to be a teacher's pet? With all the benefits that one can get, who knows maybe he can give you the grade you wanted so much.

Or maybe not.

He strides towards you before halting by your desk. He tries to peek at your essay, but you were quick with your preventive measures. Resting your head over your arm, you made sure that the bastard won't be having any clues of your answers during this period.

Mr. Hyde frowns.

Ȉ̸̡̧̥̩̣͖̏f̴̡̪̳̪̎͂͊̾̈́̔ͅ ̸̙̇͑̏̂o̸̢͎̤͎̦̪̝̝͆̂͌͜n̶̝͚̗̲͊̎̄̑̊̄̄̊͘l̴̛̖̜̠͙͂̆͊͛͊ͅÿ̷͚̼̀͐̆̾̔́́͘͘ ̸̨͉̼̺͖͇͚͍̂̊́͝ḩ̵̢͇͕̤̙̰̈́ȇ̴͇̞͙͇̿͐́̉ ̶̨͕̫̣̳̗͖͕̯̗̑̋̔̉̂̋͝c̵̼͎̘̹̣̬͚̀a̴̺̦̰̣͕̼̳̞̼͓̎͑̆̽n̵̟̓̓̃̉̐͆͆̕͘ ̴̥̍p̸̸̷̷̶̴̶̶̸̷̶̶̷̧̡̡̧̧̛̦̰͖̬̖̫̝͈̠̜̘̜̮͖̪̝̼̗̫͙̟̼̫͚͈̲̖̲̗͙͖͖̠̭̮͈͈̳͉̠̦͔̤͖͎̜͕̤͙̳̙̟̥̮̺̎̉̑̍́̎͋̎̒̀̇̿̆̌̽͛̀̆͋̈́͒̔̉̎̈̎̅̉͐͑̂͆̅̿̈́͒̈͑̒̆̇̾̓̈́̀͆̋͐͊̿͋͘̕͘̕̚̕͘͜͜͝͝͠͝͠͝͠ͅͅư̸̸̴̸̵̷̶̶̶̶̵̴̢̢̡̨̡̡̡̧̡̢̛͉̝̦̘͔̳͖̱̣̩̜̝̩͓̰͖̩̟͇͓̹̹̪̳̟̲̰̺̗̩͔͈͈͉̯͈̻͍̭̣̹̰̲͕̦͍̟͓̹̞͈͉͉̤̠̩͉̣̰̤̙̺̓̃̾͒͋͑̈͌͌̑̂̋̋̌͛̄͊̈́̉̔͋̃̉͆̐͊͒̊̿̈́̏͂͗̏̓̂͐̐̉̐̾̽̇̈́̈͐̎̅̓̄̂̓͆̈́̋͑̉͘͘͘̚̚̕̚͜͠͠ͅͅͅn̷̸̷̷̶̷̴̶̸̶̸̶̷̸̵̶̵̶̶̸̢̢̡̡̛̛̟̦̩̫̫̜̫̰̙̰̤̭̺̖̥̮̺̣̩̮̬͉̱͚̱̦͚̣̭̰͎͚͈͇͓̰̬̞̣̩̫̥̭͕̼̱̙̼̤̰͈͉̺̘̼̦̦̹̝͔̼͕͇̮̭̳͎̪̥͔̲͈̦̹͈͓̼̪͖͔̹͎͖͕̞̱̦͚̱̻̬̰̲̱͈͉̬͇͙͍͎̔̅̇͐̓̄̃̑̇͒̿̐̅͗͗͐̐̽̽͋͋̅̎́̾̅͂̏̂̈́͂̎̈́̀͗͆̔̇͂̿̆͆͛̀̀̉̈́̌̌̓̒̎̈̑́͆̏̓̇́̎̆̌̒̃̈̐̔̔̄̈́͂̄̄̅͒͋͒͂̊͋̈̽͒̚͘͘̚͘͘͘͘̕͜͜͜͠͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅi̵̸̸̶̸̴̴̴̸̶̶̧̡̧̛͔̙͖̹̼̦͓̖͙͉̘̗̬̟̣͚̣͉̘̮͇̝̮͚͖͖̬̺̱̘̞͎̰̼̩͕͚͎̟̬͔̳̭̻͎̺̯͙̟̗͂̽̐̽͊͊̀̑͂̂̃͗̈́͋̏̉̓͛̌͋́̀̄̏͋̒̎͋̉͆̒̏̽́̓̽̾̋̓̉͗̔̃̿̀̓̈́͌̈́̓͆́̈̚͘͜͝͝ͅŝ̵̷̸̵̵̶̷̢̡̡̧̛̛͓̥̲͓̼͍̝̯͍̞̱̩̣͍͍̳̥̟͚̦̮̻̬͍̦̫̖̥̏͆͂̍̿̍͒̈́̈̊̀̊͒̿̅͊̄̍̃̐̍̀͗͋̅̓̏̔̇̐̅̕͘͘͠͝h̴̷̸̶̸̵̷̷̷̴̸̡̢̡̛̛͈͎̗̟͎̟̫̣̝͖̦͓͉̤̼͍̻̳͍̘̲͍̲͚̫̭̺͉͙̠̞̜̰̹̤̻͇͎̻̟̗̝̺̘̭͍̔͂̾̐̈́̃̊̄͐̈̏̑̎̑̋͊̿́̔̿̑̏̅̇́̋̈́͆̈̈͛̽̀̽̉̋͊̌̅̈̑̓͆̽̄̑͗̈͐̋̔̓̑́̅͐̃̅͊͛̕͘͘͜͜͠͠͝͝͠ͅͅ ̸̢̯̪̯̫̤̲̣̊̕ỹ̸̢͎̗͊̄̓̈́́͂͗͗̋o̶̯͈̍ų̸͑͝ ̸̧̡̛͇̮͓͈̗͖̍̋͊̎̌̕r̶̨̨̥̗͎͉̹̭̓̐͋̒̀̋̃̈́͝ȉ̶̫͔̉̓̔̕ͅͅg̴̡̹̪̳͛̀͝͝h̸͓̄͗̌͘t̶͙͓͎̰̖͉̽͐͐͒͒̀̚̚ ̸̢̱͓̭̼̭͖͔̦́̅́̿̉̂̈͒̈n̴̡̜͙͉̠̺͇̋̚ǫ̶͙̱͍̩͇̾w̶͔̠̤̠͙͛͆́̓̉.̷̖͇̗́͌̂

Half an hour later, and it is already time to pass the papers. Flutters of papers can already be heard as you sit up from your resting position. You blink your eyes, tired and sleepy. Before you can even get to process it, a hand was extended out to you. Slowly looking up, you saw your professor staring down at you.

Then to the paper.

Before flicking his gaze again at you. "Are you not going to give your paper, Miss (L/N)?"

You suppress a groan.

What does he want from you? What did you do for him to treat you like this. Your inner thoughts were all screaming, protesting; and yet your outward self fake a smile, hiding all the anger away, not wanting to provide Mr. Hyde more reasons to target you.

"Uh, yes. Sorry!"

You reluctantly take your paper and flip it to its back as a last attempt of concealment, before slowly handing it out to him. "Here you go."

For a moment, your fingers touched; and his hand suddenly trembled from the spark of electricity that shot through his veins and to his whole body.

The forbidden feeling was further ignited, and it turbulently boiled within him, triggering fantasies that he never thought he could have.

One instance; he even saw you tearfully bending before him. Like a female cat in heat, you have your peaches up in the air, offering him to take a bite from it. And since it was so ripe, so full of flesh, he couldn't resist your temptation. He took a chunk of it; a huge chunk of it. He couldn't tear it though, so he bit on it and sucked on it, leaving trails of red and drool from the fine dining experience.

His actions would also naturally coax out beautiful screams from your little mouth. It wasn't a question for him though if those screams were from pain or desire or both; his reasons had gone the moment he heard those sounds.

He only wanted to hear those more, and more louder as he took it as a nod that you wanted his vicious love, his fiendish soul, this intimate pain that he was willing to subject you into.

And you know what he did to make you scream more, he grabbed a fistful of your (H/C) hair and pulled it hard. He didn't even care if you were bleeding from your scalps.

You'll understand it, right? You'll understand his love?

For a second, he even wished that he brought chains with him, so that he can adore you with those beautiful silver necklace, so that he can gift you the collar that would show everyone that he's your master, and so that he can pull you by the neck and make you scream harder until your vocal cords broke.

From the shock, he lost grip of not only your paper but the others as well. The pile of paper crash to the ground, making quite a terrible mess—and yet the man remains rooted to his place, still and dazed.

The fuck? Is he okay?

Your forehead slightly creases as you, along with your classmates, start to clean up the mess for him.

Mr. Hyde had been acting weird since earlier. And you swear that it's not just the stares as he also didn't seem so calm and composed like he usually would be. He looked out of it, to be honest—like he couldn't stay in reality for too long as he kept getting swept away by whatever is distracting him.

Once you're done picking the papers, you face him. Clearly his soul had not made its return to his body yet with the distant look in his eyes still remaining. And just like earlier, it was also directed at you—only you and through you.

Really? you want to loudly exclaim at him, protest at him, and make complaints of his unbecoming behavior; but on the outside, you feign ignorance and push the papers to his form.

"Mr. Hyde?"

He doesn't respond; he just stares.

You press your lips. Having no idea what you're going to do with this body, you look over to one of your classmates who had also kindly aided you in gathering the fallen test papers.

It was the class secretary. Sky. Someone who can actually be considered a reliable classmate. But unfortunately, just like you, he had no idea what to do, so he just awkwardly shrugged when you asked his help with your gaze.

You look at Mr. Hyde and then at him again. "... can you tap him?" You point at the teacher. "Maybe that will wake him up from his daydreams."

"Won't you?" he asks.

You shake your head but do not explain yourself further. You don't want to voice out loud how you were feeling so uncomfortable right now with the old man, even more so with the idea of touching him.

Thankfully, Sky seems to read the mood. He breathed in, as if preparing for the terrible future, before poking at the man's arm. "Mr. Hyde, we have the papers here already. What should we do with it?"

His light grey eyes blinked—and for a moment, you thought that you caught his vacant expression flashing pure disgust while he retreat from your classmate. But you couldn't really be sure because the moment was so quick, and Sky seemed to have no reaction to prove that that actually did happen.

"I will be taking this back," he finally said after a long while of staying still. His voice was cold as ice, complimenting the frigid expression that he always wears. Without even waiting for Sky's response, he took the papers back and returned to his table.

With the other papers still in your hand, you gave Sky a puzzled look.

"Just give it to him...?" the boy advised, but he sounded so unsure with his words too. You bit the inside of your cheeks.

You honestly wanted to ask another favor from him, but you thought that would be too much. Plus, you're not even that close with him. Asking such a request might lead him to think that you're weak and timid, and you don't want that.

And so, since going to Mr. Hyde yourself seemed to be your only option available, you steeled your heart and trailed after the cold man.

You stopped before his table.

Fortunately for you, he wasn't giving you those disconcerting stares anymore, as he was too occupied with examining someone's paper. You were a bit relieved for a while, until you remember that you have to call his attention again.

... or should you?

He seemed so busy right now with his eyes attentively skimming the answers before him. I mean, you can just leave papers on his table. He'll probably take notice of it later.

And so, that's what you did.

Slipping it under his plastic envelope, you turn around and start returning to your seat. By this time, majority of your classmates have pulled out their books to confirm the answers they wrote earlier on the test. You are planning to do that as well because you're also curious to know the real answer.

But seriously...

Life won't even let you give a second to breathe.

You heard a strange sound of laughter behind you, and you immediately feel the hair behind your neck rise from the eeriness.

Honestly, the laugh didn't sound so bad. Just weird. You turn around; your face expressing bewilderment and horror. It just sounded so weird coming out from him, your teacher, who was known for his coldness.

Mr. Hyde laughed, and the atmosphere in the room seemed to even drop further. He was laughing so hard that the hands placed over his lips couldn't even repress the sounds.

He noticed your gaze on him.

Laughter eventually ceasing; he dropped his hand. Your breathing slightly hitched at the sight of the smirk over his straight thin lips.

"(Y/N)," you heard your name from him for the first time, and it doesn't feel pleasant at all; it made your stomach churn in discomfort.

"Yes?"

"Meet me in the teacher's room once your class is done." He suddenly informed. There seemed to be an ambiguous tone wrapped around his serious words when perceiving him say those with a smirk.

You stare at him, blankly.

How about a fucking no?

But, despite feeling beyond creep out by the man before you, in the end, you nod. What can you do anyways? What are you supposed to do?! He is your teacher. He must have read your essay already and wanted to confront you of your stupid answers. While you want to refuse him, you'll probably risk getting a zero if you offend him any further.

You sigh.

Seeing your dispirited self, Mr. Hyde has the urge to laugh again upon remembering your gibberish answers to his questions.

Oh, my (Y/N), you are making me want to ravish you even more, he filthily thinks.

And the first time and forever, the man also had the impulse to skip his classes and prioritize his needs. His need to—

Mr. Hyde gave you one more single glance, and is it even possible that it became even more rigid from seeing you in misery. It didn't help that those fantasies were already imprinted in his mind, almost permanently. It brought out an excitement within him that he couldn't wait to itch.

A groan escaped his throat from the restless feeling. And once he finally couldn't take it, he decided to walk out with your paper in hand.

"Class, you are dismissed," Mr. Hyde muttered, dazed, as he completely ignored the curious stares that followed him out to the door.

As he walked through the door, he noticed the white cat still sleeping outside the room. He ignored it yet again, just proceeding on, while Fortune let out a soft whiny sigh in his sleep, completely oblivious to the perverse actions that his recent victim is just about to make for the sake of venting passion.

Oh, Fortune, why did you have to do that?

i remembered being disgusted while writing this. im sorry. he's NOT a love interest.