Page 56 of Trivium

If her grades improved…

She had to stay focused. Which was why she needed Lennox to keep his stupid, perfect hands far, far away from her. His fingers explored hers, before settling into the crooks of her knuckles and she ripped her hand away.

“Mina, I…” He cleared his throat.

She looked up at him and tried not to give anything away, but the chemistry between them was getting harder and harder for her to ignore. As soon as he moved away from her, it was like a magnet pulled her forward, urging her to get closer. And the more time she spent with Lennox, the more he saved her stupid life and calmed her stupid anxiety and gave her stupid notebooks with stupid flowers on them, the more it intensified.

He lowered his voice even further. “What happened yesterday in Combat with Barrow…”

And just like that, the moment snapped, replaced by an evil chill.

Lennox was the last person she wanted to talk to about Barrow. Not only was the whole situation confusing, but it also made her feel shame in ways she couldn’t vocalize.

“You can talk to me.”

“It’s fine,” she lied, trying to sound confident. It came out a whisper.

“I shouldn’t have… reacted the way I did.”

“It’s not important.” She tried again to say it casually, but her throat dried at the lie. She shivered, rubbing her arms.

“Are you cold?” he asked, confused. “It’s like a billion degrees outside. Come here.” He opened his arms, and before she could overthink it she snuggled into his chest, relief sweeping over her.

“I really wish you’d just…” he sighed into her hair, his request hanging in the air.

“What do you want me to say?” she said, her words muffled by his chest.

They released each other and he took her hand gently in his. She couldn’t help but stare at his eyes as they passionately searched hers for some glimpse of an answer. “Come on secretive-mina. Talk to me.”

He tucked a loose curl behind her ear, and Ahmina’s breath caught in her chest. Time froze, as unthinkable scenarios ran through her mind. Ones where their hands were on each other, where their bodies were entangled, where they shared more than words. Evenings studying in the library together. Shared meals in the mess hall, laughing at each other’s jokes. Training sessions where she watched his toned muscle shift and brace against her attacks. Sweaty and smiling together. Every moment she felt unsafe, insecure, or alone in this world, Lennox would be there to fill whatever was broken inside of her.

But then reality set in and she remembered she couldn’t go there with Lennox. Not now. Not if she wanted to get her grades up with some sense of self-respect. And Barrow had gotten close, too close, crossing a line that if Ahmina named, could jeopardize her entire position at the Academy.

“About Barrow, I—” he started.

“—I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you can do better. You deserve better. You need to stick up for yourself.”

Flustered, she threw her weight into shoving him in the gut. “How’s this?” All of her feelings needed somewhere to go, and so she shot them right at Lennox. “I’m late.”

“UGH.” He leaned over, clutching his abdomen. “Okay! Too far. I pushed too far. But on the positive side, it looks like Combat practice has been paying off.”

Then Lennox mumbled something that sounded like try that move on Barrow, but when she asked him what he said, he just shook his head.

A tornado of desire for Lennox and shame for what happened with Barrow swirled inside of her, and suddenly she was furious. Why was Lennox advising her on how to handle Barrow anyway? What did he know? He was a respected student who knew nothing of what she faced, or what was on the line for her. She pushed past him and headed down the empty hallway. “Keep running your mouth and next time it will be my dagger, not my fist.”

“You haven’t even seen what my mouth can do, Mina-baby.”

She couldn’t help but picture his lips grazing her collarbone, her navel, her inner thigh, and she pushed the images from her mind, annoyed. They had a moment, a beautiful soft moment, and Lennox ruined it by bringing up Barrow.

And maybe Lennox was right. Maybe she could do better. Be better.

But today, honesty was buried by something more primal: the need to survive in this Goddess-be-dammed school.

She unsheathed her dagger and threw it in his direction. Her aim was horrible anyway, she knew she would miss. He caught it easily, pulling up beside her, one arm still wrapped around his ribs, the other holding her dagger. “How threatening,” he teased.

She chanced a glance at him, and he returned her gaze tentatively. She knew he was trying to lighten the mood with humor as he always did, but she didn’t have the patience for it. She stopped mid-stride. “You know,” she spat defensively, “I’m not a coward. I’ve been training. I can and will gut you.”