Twist of Fates

𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖞

✧✶Julianna Valentina De La Bellam
¹⁰.⁷ ᵖᵃᵍᵉˢ

"I'm a genius." Julianna held the Headmaster's office door slightly ajar. She turned and crouched to Grim's height, "Keep watch, okay? Scream if you see anyone." He raised a paw in salute as she slipped inside.

The office was large—larger than necessary since Crowley never signed papers or glanced at his paperwork and just basked in the seven floating portraits around the room. She didn't want to imagine what he did alone with them. Focused forward, ignoring the portraits, Julianna skipped directly for the clear desk and kicked her heels up with a spin from his chair. The cushions felt like throne material.

She tugged open her trash bag. Any other time maybe, but not now.

"Fgnyah," Grim stretched as cats did, which completely shut down her brain, windows music included, to catch him doing cat things after getting used to his human-like-ness. Then she realized how similar to a Furby he looked and cringed– "Did ya do it? How did it go!?"

Oh god, he talked like one too.

Julianna scooped him into her arms, being careful to avoid all the bumps and scrapes from the past twenty-four hours, and disguised her search for an "off" button in her scratches. Surprise! He was a real boy—or, uhh—cat? Demon? Yeah, she didn't know what she expected.

Warm purrs rumbled against her chest with every rake through his fluffy fur. He rubbed his face on her knuckles, his tiny wet nose booped her hand. And she felt like the most despicable human being alive!—she'd never turn off this precious marketable plushie.

"Rook!"

Wheels screeched—and by wheels, she meant her heels as they tore the rug and hauled ass in the opposite direction–

"Mademoiselle!" Thundering feet.

What did he want!? Why did this crazy stalker have to find her? Of all the characters, why– "GUAU!"

Julianna tumbled heels-over-ungraceful-head and skittered. She tucked Grim to her chest: her elbows absorbed his fall. Which, good for him, but her skinned elbows would've rather he took the few bumps.

The telltale gleam of a dying spell in a purple gem withered to darkness and in its place lurked the faintest dots of ink. Rook's magic gem mirrored the trend where influencers sprayed freckles across their nose with a toothbrush to be cute: a warning to all single people.

Fitting, considering this pretty boy with an absurd personality.

Julianna's limbs twitched uncontrollably for another painful breath before she could scowl and meet the green eyes of a hunter. It pissed her off to find interest and not remorse, but the same cycle ruled the walls of NRC as the law of the wild; hunt and be hunt. So, when Rook stepped forward, pen in hand, she scrambled back and reached for her pocket.

"Henchman!" Grim rounded on Rook, "Ora! Get lost creepshow!" He raised his claws.

Rook's attention fell to him, unamused. Unaffected.

His smile bounced back, "Excuse me, Miss Étoile Noire, but Pomefiore's prized Roi du Poison, the accomplished and beautiful Vil Schöenheit, invites you a special rencontrer–"

"Not interested, so why don't ya bug off?"

Daggers glared down at him. Grim stood: his bristled form braved from her arms to literally snarl at him. A little lion swatting at a barrel.

That deep seed of guilt gnawed at her.

"Rook!" Thank the lord for Epel Felmier. She snatched Grim by the scruff and Usain bolted from the corridor the moment his head turned like they had hell on their heels.