In One Night (Saul Silva x OC)

Chapter 1: The Invite

It was morning. Saul had just sat down for breakfast but it was obvious that Becca was already peeved. She didn't show any reaction when he kissed her cheek as she was making breakfast, didn't say a word when he spoke about the weather, didn't even acknowledge him when he read aloud the headline of an article regarding her favorite author (who was apparently about to release a new book). It was only when he asked what was wrong did she raise her head, her brow knitted, looking at him in an annoyed/surprised kind of way as though he had accused her of being prissy.

"Nothing. Why do you think there was anything wrong?"

Was that a test? Lately it was either a hit or miss on this. Most times, she was just too preoccupied in her own little world which, let's be honest, she used to share with him all the time. But there were also instances where she was just unwilling to outright tell him what bothered her.

But it was only morning, not even six-thirty; she wasn't this vexed last night. He couldn't imagine what he could have done between then and now, unless it was something in her dreams.

He shrugged and ate his breakfast, trying to convince himself that this was normal. She was already dressed, ready to go to work, but didn't leave until she had finished her tea. They started work about the same time though the difference between them was that, he was only a ten-minute walk from his whereas she was a thirty-minute drive and liked to come in an hour before official working hours. She didn't use to before, but lately it had become a habit.

"Don't forget to take out the trash," she said before planting a brief kiss on his forehead and leaving.

It shouldn't bother him, but maybe he also woke up on the wrong side of the bed because he walked to the College in a bad mood. He just came to the realization that, for the past few months, living with Becca had become stifling. It was like she was always on her period and he had to get out of her way or else set her off. It used to be fine because it was only one or two days a month. But now, he was tiptoeing in his own home. Every single day. For the past five months.

What happened?

He supposed it was the stress of her job. She worked for a financial institution and half the things she said, he didn't understand. She was recently promoted, which she was only too glad to have, but the downside was that she worked crazy hours. He wanted to be supportive but doing that meant giving her space, which should have been offset with intimacy the rest of the time but, slowly, the basic things began to disappear—talking, going on dates, sex.

Were they on the verge of falling apart?

The answer was immediate, hitting him in the face: yes, they very much were.

These were hardly the type of thoughts one wanted to have at seven-thirty in the morning on a Monday, so he tried to think of the work ahead. He had reached the College and was about to go in the building, when he looked behind him and saw another early bird who just happened to be his least favorite person.

Dawn.

It wasn't like he hated her. It was more that she hated him. He didn't know why or since when, but he didn't interact with her that much so he left it alone. It might even go back to their days as students here in Alfea, but they moved in different circles then. She dated some dick who happened to be royalty from some other country (she was actually known as the girlfriend of that royal dick—that and a stupid rumor that got around), while he was being groomed by Rosalind along with Farah, Ben and Andreas. And they still moved in different circles now, him being Headmaster of the Specialists, her being in Farah's fairy faculty.

Any other day, he would do the same thing he normally did whenever she was around, which was remain civil and then move on. But having come to the realization that he had been staying out of his own girlfriend's way for the past five months, he found it impossible to do that. In fact, he was feeling petty, never mind that it was directed at the wrong person. He was bound to piss her off no matter what, whether he kept his mouth shut or not. And it wasn't like he didn't occasionally talk to her and then inadvertently ruin her day for some reason.