~2.

[RABBIT]

Rabbit tugged his hoodie closer as he stepped onto campus, the morning sun filtering through rows of towering elms. Students hurried past him, laughter and conversation floating through the crisp air.

No one here knew Nyx.

And that was exactly how he intended to keep it.

He adjusted his glasses, rubbing the dark circles under his pink eyes and clutched his books to his chest, weaving through the crowd toward the humanities building. The exhaustion beneath his eyes was little compared to what his body spoke.

The lecture hall was already half full when he slipped inside. Soft murmurs drifted through the room as students settled into their seats. Rabbit took his usual place near the front but close enough to hear clearly, far enough to avoid attention.

He laid out his notebook with meticulous precision.

Top left corner: date.

Centered title: ENG 342 — Gothic Literature.

Beneath it, he wrote neatly:

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

He paused, staring at the words.

A story about beauty.

About corruption.

About a man who lived one life in the light and another in the shadows.

Rabbit’s grip on his pen tightened.

How fitting.

The door opened.

The room fell silent.

Professor Noah Caldwell entered with measured elegance, his presence commanding without effort. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, he moved with quiet authority toward the lectern, setting his briefcase down with deliberate care.

He didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t need to.

“Good morning.”

His tone was smooth, controlled, and unmistakably precise.

“Today, we examine Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray—a novel that explores vanity, morality, and the perilous nature of leading a double life.”

Rabbit kept his head lowered, copying each word he spoke.

Noah picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the board in elegant script:

Duality. Desire. Decay.

The chalk clicked softly as he set it down.

“Dorian Gray presents us with a haunting question,” Noah continued. “Is it possible to indulge in one’s darkest desires without consequence?”

A thoughtful silence followed.

He paced slowly across the front of the room.

“Outwardly, Dorian remains untouched—youthful, admired, pristine. Yet the portrait hidden away bears the weight of his sins. It becomes a mirror of the truth he refuses to confront.”

Rabbit’s breath caught.

The words struck closer than they should have.

Noah’s gaze swept across the class, calm and analytical.

“Tell me,” he said, “is the true tragedy Dorian’s corruption or his desperation to conceal it?”

A student raised her hand. “His concealment, Professor. It’s the lie that ultimately destroys him.”

“An astute observation,” Noah replied.

He paused, scanning the room once more.

Rabbit focused intently on his notes, willing himself to disappear.

“Rabbit,” Noah said and the class burst into low snickers and giggles.

His name was quite the amusement not to mention his looks.

Rabbit’s heart skipped.

Slowly, he looked up. Piercing green eyes stared into his soul.

“Yes, Professor?”

His voice was soft, composed and perfectly polite.

Noah regarded him for a moment, expression unreadable.

“What is your interpretation? Is concealment always a sign of guilt?”

Rabbit hesitated.

Then he answered.

“No, sir. Sometimes concealment is a form of survival. Society often condemns what it fails to understand. Hiding the truth can be less about shame… and more about protection.”

A faint murmur rippled through the class.

Noah studied him with quiet interest.

“Protection,” he repeated. “An intriguing perspective.”

Their eyes met briefly.

For Rabbit, it lasted far too long.

“For your insight,” Noah added, “you’ve earned participation credit.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Rabbit lowered his gaze at once, his heart hammering against his ribs.

He didn’t notice the way Noah’s attention lingered for a fraction longer than necessary.

************

As the lecture concluded, Noah closed his book.

“Remember,” he said, “Wilde’s novel reminds us that no mask—however exquisite can conceal the truth forever.”

Rabbit froze for a moment before gathering his things.

What the hell? Was the universe warning him or something?

He swallowed.

As students filed out, he slipped into the corridor rubbing his eyes and adjusting his glasses.

Behind him, Noah watched the room empty, his gaze drifting briefly to the seat Rabbit had occupied.

“Rabbit,” he murmured softly to himself, he had heard of the name amongst the other professors. They spoke highly of him, the school’s ’golden boy’.

“He’s just another smart student nothing special about that one” he snorted and ran a palm over his hair before exiting the now empty hall.