Author's POV
The heavy, clinical atmosphere of the West Wing—which had felt like a tomb just hours prior—finally shattered as the morning sun aggressively pierced through the narrow infirmary blinds.
The light turned the "blood-stained" memories of the night into nothing more than harmless dust motes dancing in the air.
Jay's POV
I stretched my arms over my head, my joints popping like a string of firecrackers. My head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, and my throat was dry enough to start a brush fire, but the crushing, invisible weight on my chest had lifted.
I looked down at my hands. No leather straps. No needles. Just the oversized sleeves of Keifer's hoodie.
I looked around the room. It was a disaster zone of emotional exhaustion. Rory was snoring upright against a medical cabinet, his mouth hanging open. Ci-N was curled in a chair, clutching his "Rakki" so hard .
"Okay, funeral's over!" I chirped, clapping my hands loudly. The sound echoed, making Rory jump nearly a foot into the air. "If I see one more long face, I'm going to start charging for emotional damages. Rory, stop looking at me like I'm a cracked egg. I'm fine!"
The room seemed to exhale collectively. The tension didn't just fade; it evaporated under the heat of my glare.
"She's back," Percy breathed, leaning his head against the wall with a thud. "The brat is officially back."
"I heard that, Percy." I stuck my tongue out at him, though it took a lot of effort. "And for the record, Keifer, your arm looks like a cat tried to parkour on it. My bad."
Keifer, who hadn't moved from my side, let out a short, rough laugh. He reached out and flicked my nose, his silver eyes finally losing that jagged, murderous edge. "A cat? You were more like a blender, Jay. I'll just tell everyone I fought a mountain lion. It sounds cooler."
The bickering—the normal, stupid, wonderful bickering—filled the room, washing away the echoes of the screams. For a moment, we weren't survivors of a biological nightmare; we were just teenagers who needed a nap and a very large breakfast.
Zein's POV
I watched them, my heart finally slowing its frantic pace. I looked at Jay-jay—pale, tired, but reaching for a piece of leftover cake on the nightstand.
She was trying so hard to be the sun again, even if she was flickering.
I stood up, smoothing out my crumpled clothes. I looked at Ace, then at the rest of the group.
"I'm not attending classes today," I announced firmly. My voice left no room for argument.
Ace crossed his arms, his "Supremo" mask sliding back into place, cold and calculating. "You're the Secretary, Zein. We have protocols. High-ranking officials cannot simply skip lectures because of a 'bad night.' Rules must be followed to maintain order."
I didn't even blink; I just rolled my eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck in the back of my head. "Oh, please, Ace. The school hasn't burned down in the last six hours. I think the 'protocols' can survive one morning of me watching bad movies and eating smuggled chips with my best friend."
"Rules are the only thing keeping this place from total chaos. Their is no place for friendship here," Ace added, though I could hear his resolve crumbling. He was a King, but Zein was the only person who knew exactly where his crown was loose.
"And common sense is the only thing keeping us from being mindless robots," Zein shot back sarcastically, leaning against the bedpost. "Go be a 'Supreme Ruler' elsewhere for a bit. I'm busy being a human. Unless you want to file a formal complaint against me? I'll be sure to hand it to myself for processing."
Ace let out a long, weary sigh—a sound of pure, unadulterated defeat. "Fine."
He sat down in the armchair in the corner, but keeping his eyes on the door like a silent, looming shield. For a few hours, it was actually peaceful. We watched a terrible rom-com where the acting was worse than the cafeteria's meatloaf, and for a moment, the world felt normal.
Jay's POV
By noon, my stomach was growling louder than a chainsaw. I convinced Zein that I needed "real" food—the kind that clogged arteries and boosted morale.Zein and I headed to the main canteen.
But Hell University never stays quiet for long. The moment we stepped into the crowded hall, the whispers started.
"There she is. The one who went crazy."
"I heard she saw a drop of blood and started screaming like a banshee."
We were just grabbing trays when three girls from the 'Black blood clique—a group of high-society bullies —blocked our path.A girl named Shana with too much eyeliner and a permanent sneer, stepped forward
"Look at the newbie" she hissed loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear. "I heard you had a little meltdown last night, Jay-jay. Maybe the Supremo should stop treating you like a pet and put you back in the cage where you belong. You're a freak."
I felt the blood in my veins turn cold, but before I could even open my mouth to snap back, Shana's hand flew out.
SLAP.
My head snapped to the side. The sting was sharp, a blooming heat on my cheek. The entire cafeteria went deathly silent.
Shana smirked, looking at her hand. "Oh, did that hurt? Maybe you should go cry to—"
She never finished the sentence. Zein moved like a blur of lethal grace.
WHACK.
The sound of Zein's palm connecting with Shana's face was like a gunshot. Shana didn't just stumble; she spun a full 180 degrees before hitting the linoleum floor with a sickening thud.
"Taste my 180-degree slap, bitch," Zein hissed, her eyes glowing with a protective fire I'd rarely seen. She stepped over the fallen girl, her shadow looming large. "Touch her again, or even breathe in her direction, and I'll make it a full 360 through that window behind you. "
"Do I make myself clear?" She said raising her voice.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow lunging from behind a pillar. It was a boy—one of the boy's—raising a heavy tray like a weapon, aimed straight for the back of Zein's head.
My instincts didn't just kick in; they took over. I didn't see a lab; I didn't see a needle. I saw a target.
I spun on my heel, putting my entire weight into my shoulder. I delivered a calculated, bone-deep punch straight into his solar plexus. He made a sound like a deflating balloon and folded like a lawn chair, gasping for air on the floor.
"We're leaving," I said, my voice trembling with a mix of leftover adrenaline and pure rage. I grabbed Zein's arm. "I'm too hungry to deal with trash."
When we got back to the secure room, the whole group had arrived. Keifer, Rory, Ci-N, and Percy were all there, looking like they were ready to go to war. My knuckles were red and throbbing, and Zein's hair was slightly tousled, her expression still fierce.
"What happened?" Keifer asked, his eyes immediately zeroing in on the red mark on my cheek. His aura turned cold enough to frost the windows.
"Those assholes..." I spat, dropping onto the bed and clutching my hand. "They think just because I had a moment last night, I'm some kind of easy target. Shana and her pet gorillas tried to corner us in the cafeteria."
The room went dead silent.
Ci-N's eyes went wide. He slowly pointed a trembling finger at me, then looked at Keifer with a look of pure, theatrical horror. "Keifer... Jay used profanity. She said the A-word! The bad one!"
Keifer, who had been vibrating with protective rage, suddenly stilled. A slow, predatory, and incredibly dangerous smirk tugged at his lips. 😏
"Nope! Keifer, no... no!" I scrambled backward on the bed, holding up my hands. "It was a heat-of-the-moment thing! It was a linguistic emergency! Self-defense!"
"The rule is the rule, Jay-jay," Keifer murmured, walking toward the bed with a rhythmic, cat-like grace. "You know the price of a profanity."
He started coming towards me and I started running away from him
Vanessa, who had just walked in with Freya, looked utterly confused. "Wait, what's happening? Why is she running? Is she in trouble?"
Freya giggled, leaning over to whisper loudly. "Keifer's profanity rule! A while back, he got tired of Jay-jay cursing when she's mad, so he made a 'fine.' Every time she drops a curse word, he gets to collect a kiss as payment. And she just dropped a big one."
"KEIFER, STAY BACK! I RETRACT THE STATEMENT!" I shrieked, bolting for the door. I tried to duck under his arm, but it was like trying to outrun a hurricane.
He caught me by the waist, lifting me off the floor. I kicked my legs, but he just swung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ignoring my protests as he headed for the secluded balcony at the end of the hall.
He set me down in the shadowed corner of the balcony, far from the prying eyes of the group. He didn't let go, though.
He pinned my wrists against the brick wall, leaning his weight into me. The cool afternoon air hit my face, but the heat radiating from him was overwhelming.
"You broke the rule, Jay," he whispered. His face was so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. His silver eyes were dark—no longer murderous, but burning with something much more intense. It was a mix of relief that I was standing and a possessive hunger that made my knees feel like jelly.
"It was just one word!" I squeaked, my heart drumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs. "And she deserved it! She slapped me!"
"I know she did," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, vibrating hum that traveled straight down my spine. "And I'll deal with her later. But right now... I have a debt to collect."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he didn't give me the chance. He leaned in, his lips crashing against mine.
This wasn't like the gentle, comforting kisses from before. This was spicy. It was desperate. It was the kiss of a man who had spent the last twelve hours terrified he was losing the only thing that mattered to him.
He kissed me with a hunger that demanded everything, his tongue tracing my lips until I melted against the cold brick.
My hands, which had been pushing against his chest, moved instinctively to his neck, pulling him closer. The memory of the cafeteria, the fear of the lab, and the sting on my cheek all faded away, replaced by the overwhelming taste of him.
He pulled back just a fraction of an inch, his thumb grazing my bottom lip, which was now slightly swollen and red.
"Next time you curse," he whispered, his eyes locked on mine, "make sure we're alone. Because I might not be so patient next time."
I could only nod, my brain currently offline. As he led me back to the room, his hand possessively tucked into mine, I realized that while the world outside was still dangerous, inside this circle, I was exactly where I belonged.