Just Too Much

The room was nothing like I expected our dorm room to look like. The walls were a rich turquoise, a vibrant, unexpected color, with framed paintings of different, serene landscapes accenting them. Two queen-sized beds sat on opposite sides of the room, one covered in a deep chocolate bedspread and the other a light cream. Each side boasted its own sleek desk and chair, both already outfitted with our personal laptops and stationery that Grandad had thoughtfully sent ahead of time. A giant, circular, fluffy white rug was at the center of the room, providing a soft contrast to the polished wooden floor, with a small glass and chrome center table perched on top. It was all a bit too much in my opinion, a touch too luxurious, too deliberately designed.

Farrah, however, had other ideas. She let out a delighted squeal, took off running, and threw herself onto the cream-covered bed with an exuberant bounce. I guess that meant the chocolate set was mine.

"That door leads to your shared bath as well as a walk-in closet," Headmaster Cree explained, gesturing to a discreet door set into the turquoise wall. "It's not a lot, but you girls should be comfortable."

"Umm, I think it's more than enough, Headmaster," I assured him, a genuine smile spreading across my face. "It's definitely a million times better than the last school we went to." Farrah nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with infectious excitement.

"Why don't we leave the girls to settle in?" Tilly suggested, her voice soft but firm. "I have some things I'd like to go over with you before you leave." Both Gran and Headmaster Cree turned to leave, walking towards the door.

I was suddenly hit with the stark realization that it was all really happening. Within the next couple of hours, Gran would be on her way back home, and Farrah and I would be on our own for the first time in our lives, truly independent. It felt too soon, right? We should have waited a while before coming here. We're not like these privileged and entitled kids; there's no way we'll fit in. My carefully constructed composure began to crack.

"Gran, wait!" I bolted out the door and stopped her just as she was taking her first step down the grand staircase. Headmaster Cree turned as well, but something on my face must have told him I needed a moment alone, as he discreetly continued down a few steps, giving us privacy.

Scanning my face with an almost clairvoyant understanding, she held firmly to my shoulders before pulling me in for a fierce, enveloping hug. "You'll be fine," she whispered in my ear, her voice a comforting balm. "Don't say a word about it; I understand, and you'll be fine."

She pulled away, her hands brushing my hair gently behind my ear. Her eyes were warm, full of a love that bypassed words. "Oh, sweetie, you'll be fine, you both will. If you ever feel overwhelmed, just use the phone I bought you. We're only a phone call away." I nodded my head rapidly, the salty streaks of tears pooling at the corners of my mouth. Pressing a finger to her mouth in a gesture of silence and then placing her hand above her heart, a silent promise, she continued down the stairs behind the Headmaster, her silhouette slowly disappearing.

Not able to take it anymore, the dam of my composure finally broke. I ran back into the room, making sure to lock the door behind me with a decisive click, and threw myself onto the bed, burying my face in the soft chocolate bedspread. As I released my pent-up anxiety in a rush of ragged breaths, Farrah came and lay beside me, her arms going around me in a protective hug, her presence a silent comfort. This should be a piece of cake, right? I did survive six years at the Institute, right? The irony of that thought was not lost on me.

I'm not sure how long Farrah lay there with me, silent, not saying anything at all, but she stayed, her steady breathing a soothing rhythm against my own. There was a soft knock at the door, and she reluctantly retracted her hand from around me to answer it. Sitting up, I turned toward the entrance, my eyes immediately locking with none other than Asher. His charcoal-grey button-up shirt was a nice contrast to his bronze skin, and his dark jeans hugged his thighs like they were made especially for him. Maybe they were; in this world of the rich and wealthy, I was learning that things like that were quite normal.

"I was just checking out my floormates; this is a welcomed surprise," he purred, taking a confident step inside after Farrah had motioned for him to come in. I tried to covertly wipe away any lingering tears and straighten my hair at the same time, but who was I kidding, this mane never looks neat.

"So you're going door to door to introduce yourself to everyone on this floor? Seems a bit much, don't you think?" Farrah questioned, her usual quick wit returning.

"Quite the opposite, Red; there's only three rooms up here," he replied, his eyes wandering around the lavish dorm room. "And I do believe the both of you got the majority of the space up here." His gaze landed on me once more, and my breath caught with the intensity of his dark eyes. My heart beat so hard, I felt as though you could see an imprint of it under my shirt.

"Three? Why three?" Farrah asked, still curious. I was yet to say anything at all, and I suddenly felt like a fool, mute and awkward.

"Only purebloods on this floor, Red. Although I didn't know the two of you were."

"We're not," I finally managed to say, my voice a little hoarse. I was confused as to why we were on a floor reserved for the purebloods. I didn't think Gran had led them to believe that we were; I wasn't even sure what she told them about us exactly. Did she tell the Headmaster what I am? Is that why he put us up here, away from everyone else?

I looked to Farrah, whose face mirrored my concern, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Suddenly, Asher was kneeling before me, his expression shifting to one of genuine concern. "Whoa, what's wrong? Your pulse is racing; I think you're having a panic attack." He was right. It was difficult for me to breathe; the room was spinning, and he was coming in and out of focus. It was clear Farrah didn't know what to do, and honestly, neither did I. Asher got to eye level with me and locked his eyes to mine. His already dark eyes got two shades darker, if that was even possible, and the red ring around his pupil glowed brightly, almost pulsating, and I couldn't look away, mesmerized by the intense crimson.

"Listen to me," he commanded, his voice a low, steady growl that cut through the haze of my panic. "Whatever you're thinking about, whatever has you feeling like you're out of control, it isn't that bad. Take deep breaths, just breathe." I heard what he was saying, and I knew he was right, but I just couldn't. My breaths came out in rapid, shallow puffs, and my chest hurt unbearably, a tight, suffocating band. "Okay, I'm sorry about this, I really am," he murmured, almost to himself.

As I stared into his eyes, I saw his pupil dilate further, engulfing the fiery red ring, which pulsed with an eerie, captivating glow. "Stop," he commanded, his voice deeper now, almost a growl, filled with an undeniable authority. "Breathe." I took a sharp, gasping inhale of breath, and the crushing pressure on my chest immediately released. I took in deep lungfuls of fresh air, filling my lungs completely, as my eyes roved his, searching for answers, for understanding.

He stood abruptly, his movements swift and fluid, and mumbled a quick goodbye, a dismissive gesture. He then allowed his enhanced speed to take him out the door, a mere blur, the soft click of the latch letting us know he was gone. Farrah rushed to my side, her face still etched with the panic and fear she had felt watching my attack. "What the hell was that?" she asked, her voice a little shaky.

I was still too shaken up by the ordeal to even begin responding, but that was a question I myself would like answered. What other hidden talents did our resident pureblood vampire possess?