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The professor is kissing me.
I'm on my back on his office couch, and the professor is half on top of me. His lips are welded to mine, his breath hot, and his grip on my arms punishingly fierce.
The! Professor! Is! Kissing! Me!
The truth of this finally penetrates my mind, and I gasp out loud...which proves to be a huge mistake as it allows his tongue to slip inside my mouth, and something between us ignites.
No!
I shove him off, and his fingers instantly loosen.
Shit, shit, shit!
I scramble to sit up as soon as he moves back, my mind still in disarray, my heart in shambles. A shadow falls over me as the professor straightens to his full height, and I can't help but shrink away.
Even if it's only his damn shadow, it's still a part of him, and after what just happened...
It just feels all sorts of wrong to have any connection with him. The kiss may have only lasted for a few seconds, but they're still a few seconds more than there should've been, and guilt starts to eat me alive.
"Halyna..."
The sound of my name on his lips is the audio embodiment of torment. It sounds right and wrong at the same time, and after what just happened—-
His tongue!
In my mouth!
I find myself taking the coward's way out, and I hastily shake my head. "I don't want to talk about it."
The professor frowns. "Why not?"
"Because there's no point," I growl. "It's just a stupid kiss, and..." I see the professor arch a brow, and my voice trails off.
Shit.
I think I've misunderstood him.
"Stupid, is it?"
The silkiness of his tone makes me cringe. I definitely misunderstood him, and I quickly bow my head low in apology. "Sas zitó tapiná signómi ya to láthos mu." The formal apology translates to 'I humbly apologize for my mistake', and I mean every word as well.
Pre-3rd folks used to believe Charles Perrault wrote a PC version of Sleeping Beauty because of moral considerations. It's only when we started studying magic that divine Post-3rd educators revealed one little-known truth: kisses, when "performed" with the appropriate ritual, can make the most effective conduit for magic.
As for the French author, Charles' writing was inspired by his own experience: he himself had actually fallen victim to a curse, but a kind-hearted goddess (who he mistook for a fairy, by the by) had saved him with a kiss.
It's kinda like how the professor saved me, only instead of honoring him with a fairy tale, I kinda acted like I'm about to file a police report on him?
The thought is enough to make me squirm in my seat, and when I take a peek at the professor, it's as if he was waiting for our gazes to meet just so he can see me wilt in embarrassment as he says ever so gently, "May we move on to the more serious topic at hand, Ms. Mariposa?"
Heat floods my cheeks at the way he makes it sound like I'm so hung up by our kiss, but I just nod and determinedly remind myself it's my penance to bear, after virtually accusing him of sexual harassment.
"Tell me everything you can remember and leave nothing out." The professor's tone is brisk, and I straighten up as the mood in the room abruptly changes.
"He was hopping." I don't bother with the physical details of my captor-slash-attacker. Since Henry and Alice are his contacts, I won't be surprised if the professor got his copy of the killer's composite sketch way before I did.
"You also mentioned about him molting."
I close my eyes in an effort to remember everything as vividly and accurately as I can. "There were patches on his right arm and neck."
"What do the patches look like?"
"Like excess skin you can peel off," I say after a moment. "And..." My brows furrow, and I find myself squeezing my eyes shut once more. There's something else, something that has to do with him chewing and chewing...oh!
"He had it all around his mouth," I gasp out.
"It?"
"Excess skin," I clarify in a rush. "At first, I thought it was some kind of allergy. Or just something stupid like he might've forgotten to wipe his mouth after eating. But the more I think about it now—-" I feel my body tensing up as I allow myself to voice my thoughts out loud. "He was chewing all the time, professor, and there were dried flakes of skin all around his mouth. Doesn't that make him—-"
"You're thinking he's a cannibal."
"Is he?"
The professor shakes his head, his mouth tight. "While it's safe to conclude at this point the killer has enough divine blood to shapeshift, the evidence doesn't point to cannibalism."
"But I know what I saw! He was chewing—-"
"Amphibians are known to eat their own skin after molting."
Bile rises to my throat when I realize what the professor is saying, and I have to fight against the urge to throw up.
All that time I saw him chewing—-
It was the killer chewing and eating his own skin...just like the red-eyed frog he can shapeshift into.
****
THE PROFESSOR TELLS me he's been asked by my god to walk me back, and because he's actually dared to use the G-word, I find myself unable to do anything but say yes.
For a long time, both of us are quiet, but the silence is far from unwelcomed. There's just so much death for me to process that terror has resumed eating me up from the inside. I can't believe Myrrha's dead, and I don't even know what to feel or how I should feel about it.
And all those other people he killed. Who were they? Why did he kill them? And why, for fuck's sake - why did he have to torture them?
I'm so tired and frightened I can't even summon the anger I felt when I was in the memory world. Right now I just wish it to be all over. Right now, I just want to do what it takes to find him before he finds my parents.
Rain starts to drizzle all of a sudden, and I'm about to tell the professor we should make a run for it when I see him pull something out from his pocket.
"Seriously?"
Am I truly the only one in Rosethorne who forgets to bring her school-issued umbrella?
The professor raises a brow at me from under the dark shelter of his umbrella. "Well? What are you waiting for?" He already has his fingers around my wrist before I can even think of refusing, and a memory of the professor's tongue thrusting inside of my mouth flashes in my mind as he yanks me close.
Shit, shit, shit.
I quickly mutter an apology as I jerk away, and I determinedly pin my gaze straight ahead as we resume walking.
"Are you alright?"
"Why shouldn't I be?" I ask airily just as our shoulders brush against each other, and it's all I can do not to recoil from the contact.
O Bella of Forks, help me!
I hate the way my body seems hyper-aware of the professor's nearness, but more than that I'm ashamed of it, and I just wish there's a way for me to get rid of this crazy connection I seem to have with him.
When I finally catch a glimpse of Dark Rose House, I nearly sigh in relief, but this quickly turns into dismay when the professor doesn't show any signs of slowing down. It takes me a while to realize where he's taking me, and my unease grows. How high up is the professor in the order that he's also aware about the location of the god's hidden cabin?
The moment I see the wall of mist that magically keeps the god's property from view, I nod jerkily at the professor and mutter an awkward goodbye under my breath. The less we have to do with each other, the better...but the professor clearly believes otherwise as he suddenly captures my wrist and prevents me from leaving.
"Leave him, Halyna."
The harshly spoken words come out of nowhere, and it takes me a moment before I can recover from my shock and try yanking my wrist out of his hold. "I don't think—-"
"Leave him." The professor's grip tightens. "Leave him, and choose me. Be with me. Relationships between humans and gods rarely work—-"
"Hades and Ever—-"
"Is an exception," he bites out. "A one-in-a-fucking-trillion exception, and do you really think you and our god are that? Choose me, Halyna. With me, your life will be normal. And if you're worried about how he would react, I can tell him myself—-"
It's this last phrase that wakes me up, and I quickly yank myself free from the professor's hold. "Are you crazy?" I hiss under my breath. "Have you forgotten he's a god—-"
"I don't give a fuck—-"
"Then you should!"
The professor has always been coolly rational and composed, so I don't get why he's suddenly proving to be insanely unreasonable at this moment?
Our god is my lover.
A full-blooded ancient god who's starting to make Olympians look like teenagers. And the professor surely knows this, too...so why is he saying things that are guaranteed to piss my god off?
"Choose me, Halyna—-"
"No!" I finally manage to wrench my wrist out of his hold, and my heart aches at the way his jaw clenches. "It's too late," I say jerkily. "You're too late—-"
"You've only known the god for days—-"
I look at him incredulously. "And that makes him different from you how?"
I see his lips tighten, and I know I've made my point.
"Your life will never be easy with him," the professor says quietly. "You know that, don't you?"
"I do." It wasn't something I let myself dwell on, but the thought has always been there at the back of my mind. "And for the record: I never thought it would be easy—-"
"Then why, for fuck's sake? Do you crave for power? Immortality? Is that it?"
I wish I could be furious over the professor's words. I really wish that. But how can I when all I see in his gaze is this fierce need to make me his alone?
"I'm sorry, professor."
It's all I can think of saying in the end, and the ache in my heart sharpens as I turn away and feel his gaze still pinned to my back even though I'm already well past the mist and no longer visible.
Just keep walking, Halyna.
Don't look back.
You've made your choice, so stick to it.
And somehow, I make it.
Even though my heart still aches, and my eyes itch every so often, I manage to walk all the way up to the god's cabin without looking back. I even start thinking I'm okay, and I almost convince myself of it...until the cabin's front door suddenly swings opens, and another set of memories flood my mind as I find myself staring at a massive leonine beast.
All at once I'm reminded by all the things a certain god has lied to me about, and I hear myself ask, "Could you switch to your other form?"
Of course.
I put my hands out as soon as the beast disappears from view, and I hear my god grunt when I almost end up poking his eyes.
"Sorry." Not.
It's fine—-
Now that I have a good idea of where his invisible face is, I don't even wait for him to finish and simply swing up as hard and fast as I can.