Chapter 5 - D.O.R.I.A.N

The next morning, both Troy and Trish awoke late. Not having her own stuff at Trish’s made getting ready a nightmare.

Her hair isn’t blown out the way she likes it, and her makeup is not entirely on point. Looking in the unfamiliar mirror, she barely has a minute to track her eyeliner straight. 

Then, they are too late for the first class, but just in time for the second one. She doesn't even get a chance to open her bag or write in her diary before the lecturer screams at them to open their books.

So, she takes her favourite therapy method and disguises it inside her book. She randomly starts doodling. There are so many things to write.

Dear Diary…

The way he looked at her last night. He genuinely stared. And the things he said.

She starts scratching his name again. Over and over, filling the margin until the ink runs thick.

D.O.R.I.A.N

Then, the glowing eyes… The way he could track her pulse…

There’s the enemy complication.

So many intricate puzzles to solve. So little time.

Why does he have an enemy like that? And what were they doing last night, looking at the moon as if they had never seen it before?

The professor's voice sounds like a poet bored with his own poem, a dull hum echoing off the classroom walls.

Troy taps anxiously on her notepad with her head in her hands. Then, doodling a picture of a full moon with heavy clouds… then more tapping.

“Am I boring you, miss?” The professor looks up from underneath his glasses.

Troy sits up straight immediately, looking at the people around her. Some giggle, some look equally bored.

“No, sir,” Troy says and clears her throat. Trish looks at Troy with a question, and Troy shrugs her shoulders, offering a small, innocent face.

“That's good. Now pay attention, please.” The professor looks down and searches for where he last read, muttering to himself.

As more silence still fills the room, the seconds tick on slowly.

But then a commotion breaks out outside the classroom. First softly, then people start screaming… again. The sheer volume of the noise rattles the closed door.

What on earth is up with this place?

The professor puts his papers down and lets out a painful grunt that screams I'm done with this shit.

Then he walks out the door, and after him, all the students eagerly follow, shuffling over the desks. And so does she.

As they step out of the room, Troy immediately sees what's going on, pushing past a few shoulders to get to the front of the hallway crowd.

And the horror greets her in waves. Two guys are fighting again.

This time, not just any two men.

Dorian and Calian.

And they are literally trying to rip each other apart.

Blood splats in the air as Dorian punches Calian while sitting on his chest, holding him by his neck. The crowd around them is yelling, backing away into the lockers as the two roll across the floor. Before he can bring down the next punch, Calian lifts his body with a smooth motion, flipping Dorian into the air.

The movement is explosive.

But Dorian lands back on his feet with one hand on the ground, sliding backwards for a few inches. His braids whip up as he swings his head in the direction of Calian, who is already pouncing in for the next move, teeth bared.

But Dorian weaves away, leaving Calian grasping for air. Calian slips past him but slides a hand under his front foot, sending Dorian caving forward, landing face-first with a thud on the floor.

He practically growls, his upper lip twitching as he search for Calian. His eyes seem murderous, almost non-human. As if that part has been turned off entirely.

What the hell are they doing?

But Troy stands back against the wall, folding her arms over her chest. Without trying to think about it too much, she admires two well-built guys throwing down with each other.

Calian grabs onto Dorian's shirt and tears it off him like it's toilet paper, the fabric ripping right down the middle. Dorian responds with a brutal elbow to the face, sending Calian straight back into a row of lockers. Dorian tears the rest of his shirt off his ripped, sweat-glistened upper body and whips it onto the floor in anger, flexing his jaw.

Oh my… That is spectacular.

Too bad she has to destroy him.

But a straight, high-pressure stream of water from the hallway fire hose sends them both crashing to the ground and onto their asses, sliding meters down the hall in a wet mess.

“I’m sick of your shit!” The professor now screams the exact words she thought he would, holding the heavy nozzle tightly. “Next time this happens, neither of you will finish your degree here. Do you understand? And why don't you send your daddies here? I want to talk to them.”

The professor turns to walk, but stops again, pointing a wet finger. “You’re both banned from tonight's bonfire. If I see either of you there, you're expelled!” Then he turns and walks away, dropping the hose with a loud clatter.

People start giggling and talking under their breath, dispersing back into the hallway.

Both men are as wet as drenched cats and look over at each other. And it seems whatever it was that drove the aggression spell has moved on, leaving them blinking in confusion. They are bloody, wet, and both almost ripped apart. Dorian’s silver hair now almost looks pink from the blood mixing with the water.

Troy presses her lips together, trying not to laugh. Pink hair. OMG.

Trish nudges her hard in the ribs, leaning in close. "Holy crap, Poppy, did you see that? They are completely unhinged."

"Yeah," Troy murmurs, keeping her eyes on Dorian as he wipes the bloody water from his forehead.

"Well, at least the bonfire tonight will be peaceful without those two psychos running around," Trish chuckles, pulling at Troy's arm.