~13.

[NOAH]

Noah barely slept.

Every time he closed his eyes, Nyx returned like a phantom slipping through the cracks of his mind. Soft laughter against his ear. Pale thighs disappearing beneath silk. Lips glistening under dim crimson lights.

And those lips.

God.

Those Lips.

Roaming him like he already knew exactly what effect he had.

Noah groaned quietly into the darkness of his bedroom, arm thrown over his face as frustration simmered beneath his skin. He had spent nearly half the night trying to force the memory away, only to make it worse for himself.

By the time morning came, Noah already had a headache.

The sharp scent of coffee filled his kitchen as he stood at the counter scrolling through emails on his tablet. Faculty complaints. Student submissions. Seminar invitations.

Normally, he’d already be halfway through responding to all of them.

Today, he reread the same sentence three times without processing it.

His attention kept drifting.

A flash of white hair.

A laugh.

A soft whine.

Noah cursed under his breath and locked the screen.

He needed to get a grip.

This obsession—because that was what it was becoming—made no sense.

Nyx was nothing more than an indulgence in a place Noah should never have entered in the first place. Someone designed to tempt, entice, and create fantasy.

That was literally the job.

So why did it feel personal?

Why had the kiss felt—

Noah grabbed his coffee and downed half the cup in one go as if it could burn the thoughts out of him.

It didn’t help.

By the time he arrived on campus, the familiar sight of the humanities building usually brought some sense of grounding back into him.

Not today.

Students flooded the pathways in clusters, conversations overlapping beneath the morning breeze. Noah moved through them with practiced ease, dressed immaculately as always, dark coat draped over broad shoulders, expression unreadable.

A few students greeted him nervously as he passed.

He acknowledged them with brief nods.

But then—

His steps slowed.

Just slightly.

Near the fountain outside the literature hall sat Rabbit Ashby.

Alone.

The boy sat curled slightly into himself on the stone edge, thick glasses slipping down his nose as he stared blankly at an open notebook in his lap. Earbuds hung loose around his neck. A half-eaten pastry sat beside him untouched.

He looked exhausted.

Noah frowned before he could stop himself.

The dark circles beneath Rabbit’s eyes looked worse today. His hair was slightly messy too, white strands catching under the pale morning light.

There was something strangely fragile about him like this.

Small.

Quiet.

Nothing like—

Noah immediately cut the thought off.

Not the same person.

Not even remotely close.

Rabbit Ashby could barely maintain eye contact during lectures. Nyx practically devoured people alive with a glance alone.

Entirely different.

And yet—

Noah’s gaze lingered a second too long on Rabbit’s mouth.

Soft.

Reddish and swollen.

His expression hardened immediately.

“Professor?”

Rabbit had noticed him staring.

Noah cleared his throat smoothly, slipping back into composure. “You look half-dead, Mr. Ashby.”

Rabbit blinked before giving a weak laugh. “Good morning to you too.”

The response surprised him.

A little dry.

A little playful.

Not quite what he expected from the timid student.

Interesting.

“You should sleep more,” Noah said.

“You should assign less reading.”

Noah stared at him.

Rabbit immediately looked horrified with himself.

“I—sorry, I didn’t mean—”

A faint smile tugged at Noah’s mouth before he could stop it.

Very faint.

Gone almost immediately.

“But you meant it,” he replied.

Rabbit looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“No, Professor, I just…”

“You’re not wrong.”

That shut him up completely.

Noah watched the confusion flicker across the boy’s face and found himself strangely amused by it.

Rabbit adjusted his glasses awkwardly. “You’re in a weird mood today.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“That’s because I’m sleep deprived.”

“And your excuse yesterday?”

Rabbit opened his mouth.

Paused.

Then narrowed his eyes slightly as if realizing Noah was teasing him.

Actually teasing him.

Noah almost wanted to laugh at the realization dawning across his face.

Almost.

Rabbit stared at him another second before muttering, “I think someone replaced you overnight.”

Noah hummed. “Perhaps.”

A strange silence settled between them after that.

Not awkward.

Just… quiet.

Rabbit broke it first.

“You really like Gothic Literature, huh?”

Noah glanced at him. “That is usually why people teach subjects.”

“No, I mean—you really like it.”

Rabbit tapped the edge of his notebook absentmindedly. “When you lecture about it, you sound different.”

Noah raised a brow. “Different how?”

Rabbit hesitated.

Then shrugged lightly.

“Alive, I guess.”

The words caught him off guard.

Noah studied him carefully.

Rabbit didn’t seem to realize what he’d just said. His attention had drifted elsewhere, eyes following students walking past them.

Alive.

Noah couldn’t remember the last time someone described him that way.

Most students found him intimidating.

Cold.

Sharp.

Never alive.

Something about the observation lingered unpleasantly beneath his ribs.

Before he could respond, Rabbit’s stomach growled loudly.

Again.

The boy froze in visible horror.

Noah looked at the abandoned pastry beside him. “You’re terrible at feeding yourself.”

Rabbit looked offended. “I ate half.”

“That is not a meal.”

“You sound like Mrs. Owens.”

“Who?”

“The owner of the diner I work at.”

Noah’s attention sharpened slightly. “You work at a diner too?”

Rabbit immediately realized his mistake.

“Too?”

Noah smoothly looked away before answering. “You mentioned managing your time carefully yesterday.”

Rabbit relaxed slightly. “Oh. Right.”

That was close.

For one brief second, Noah had almost asked where exactly he worked.

And why that instinctive tension had crawled up his spine the moment Rabbit mentioned it.

Instead, he checked his watch. “You’ll be late for class.”

Rabbit glanced at the time and cursed softly under his breath before scrambling to gather his things.

The way he leaned over to pick his things made the shirt slip down a bit, revealing a ugly ring of purple bruise around his throat,

Noah reached out before he could stop himself,

“Who did this?”

Rabbit jerked slightly, quickly adjusting his shirt and taking a few steps back.

A strange pause stretched between them.

Rabbit’s skin was warm.

Noah became suddenly, irrationally aware of how delicate he looked up close. The bruise he saw irritated him and he couldn’t figure out why.

“It was nice taking to you Professor.”

Noah nodded slowly. “Try sleeping tonight, Mr. Ashby.”

Rabbit laughed weakly. “I’ll add it to my schedule.”

Then he hurried off toward the building, nearly colliding with another student on the way.

Noah watched him disappear through the doors.

He found himself thinking about Rabbit for the rest of the morning too.

That was the real problem.

Not the stripper, he had jerked off to last night.

And that was a tad bit better.

But the fact that somehow, impossibly, two entirely different people had managed to occupy his thoughts at the exact same time. Had Noah beginning to realize neither of them intended to leave anytime soon.