✨ A Little Bit of Magic || READER X RAY || The Promised Neverland

✨ Chapter Twenty Five

Yay, Sunday. I could've slept in. But Ray was here again, with a few tests this time. "Basic pyro spells, history, all that sweet easy introduction shit," he muttered, sliding the worksheets over. Emma had zoomed again, but this time with Oliver. I could practically smell the drama right around the corner. I scanned the papers, noticing Professor Yuugo's heading typed on the top. That year... That was last year. This must've been Ray's old tests. I glanced at the boy, already knee deep into a novel. His messy black bedhead was a sign that maybe he'd overslept as well. It was cute. Wait- No- Ray? Cute? More like annoying and stupid. Just his hair is cute. Not this weirdo idiot. I stopped a sigh from escaping my lips, turning my attention back to the pop quiz.

Question One. Magic nowadays is cast with spells. Which of the following is the most primal form of magic usage?
Choice A: conduit through wands
Choice B: musical magic
Choice C: conduit through hands
Choice D: chanted magic

Question Two. Which of the following is the spell that casts a spark of fire?
Choice A: ignis
Choice B: spark
Choice C: ardor
Choice D: ignit

Question Three. Who's the best Professor at Grace Field Magic Academy?
Choice A: Professor Yuugo
Choice B: Professor Yuugo
Choice C: Professor Yuugo
Choice D: Professor Yuugo

"Pft," I lost my cool over that question, imagining the professor's smug face as he graded everyone's quiz, stating that he was the greatest instructor. "Professor is really... a weird one, right?" Ray shrugged, flicking my cheek. "Finish your work then we'll talk. I'm gonna use your bathroom." "Oh, okay," I replied, tilting my head towards the restroom. Not every dorm at Grace Field had their own bathroom. Actually, only two rooms had their own restrooms, one on this floor and one right downstairs. I was given this room as a sort of gift from Isabella after my parent's death, since I'd have nowhere else to stay. What I had to do in return was progress through school here, at Grace Field. And that's why it was so important that I pass pyro. I'd literally have nowhere else to go. "Hey, y/n." I heard something flop onto my bed, not a person but maybe a shirt, or towel. "W-What is this?" I turned to Ray, who was wiping his wet hands on his shirt. His cheeks were tinged light pink, glancing at my still very messy bedsheets. I followed his gaze, understanding his confusion. My- My costume. I had hung it behind the door in the bathroom. And now Ray has seen it. "I- I-" Words has decided to fail me, any bullshit explanation I could think up was caught on the tip of my tongue. I've never been a very... brave person, when it comes to fashion. I wore my comfy hoodies, my comfy leggings and my comfy sneakers and sweaters. You wouldn't catch me dead in a tube top or a miniskirt or anything Gillian would be in. "Emma's! It's Emma's!" I blurted out, whipping around to my desk. Why Ray? Why Ray of all people! This is the worst! "You- You girls are so... weird." He took his seat next to me, staring straight down at the desk. It was unusual to see Ray so embarrassed and for some reason that light pink color on his cheeks made my chest grow warm. "W-What's weird? You're weird! Weirdo!" He gave a frustrated glare, the thoughts he wanted to convert failed by his words. "I- I don't know- I mean- She'd only go so far a-as to wear this to impress a-a boy, I assume?" Well shit. He got me. I turned away from his glare, an unsettling wave of embarrassment washing over me. "A-At least she's doing something, stupid. Y-You never even confessed to that girl you said you liked." I disguised my own self defense as a good friend defending her bestie. Maybe Ray wouldn't catch onto me then. And it worked! He clicked his tongue in annoyance, slamming another worksheet in front of me. "You don't know anything about that situation. Just do your work." The tone of his voice sent shivers down my spine, that coldness slightly startling me. I wish I could say it was unusual of Ray to be like this, but that would be a lie. He had a temper. A really bad one. I remember how he lashed out at Gillian when she had attacked Norman and I in the hallway. That twisted smile on his face, knowing he was really fucking up her world. And even yesterday and today, how sometimes he'd just crack or get upset over the little things that'd upset him. Yeah, dealing with Ray was pretty annoying sometimes. But I think I can be worse. "Why didn't you?" I asked, writing my name at the top of the worksheet. "Why didn't I what?" His gruff voice replied, still severely unamused. "Confess. You sound like you liked her a lot. Well, do you still? Have feelings for her, I mean?" He hesitated, the corners of his mouth turning sharply downwards. "No. No I don't like that stupid girl anymore." He was lying but I decided not to press him about it. Ray continued his strangely vague explanation, his pale hands clenched into a shaky fist. "I told you this before. What I have to live up to, for Headmistress and for myself. I'm destined to do great things. To be the person my mom is. And love? Love would just hinder that. Loving someone would destroy my plans, my dreams, my goals, and my aspirations. Into a complete ruin." "But why?" Slipped out of my mouth softly. Ray whipped towards me, also perplexed at the question that had left my lips. "Why would love stop you from doing what you want?"

The black haired boy took a deep breath, slowly regaining his composure. "The path laid out for me is one of sacrifice. My mother didn't get to where she is now without losing people, sometimes willingly. And if I loved someone, then it would make it harder for me to let them go. So I can't make friends. I can't fall in love. Because it'll be that much harder."

"Why do you have to follow that 'path laid out for you'?" I mocked that phrase from his words, a little confused as to what he meant by them. Why does... Why does Ray care so much about these expectations people had to him? He's his own person, right? He knows this- right? I gently grazed his trembling knuckles with my fingertips, that angry, determined glare softening into one of regret. It was a face I'd seen many times before. "And how about you, Ray? What do you want to do? Not the route you say the world is steering you towards- I want to know what your true goal is. What you truly enjoy. Not some half ass thing where you're some puppet to  social labels and brainless expectations." The boy grimaced, pulling his hand away from mine. "It doesn't matter what I want anymore. It's too late for that."

But Ray, we're only teenagers. We're barely done with our magical studies. I think you have tons of time to figure out what your passions are. So why do you look so sad? So defeated? A terrible feeling settled into the pit of my stomach, one telling me that there was something more to Ray than I'd ever thought. I'll keep this in mind.