Dying to Breathe

pov #1, part 2

A/N: Aiyo, time for part two. My favourite part because he talks about our girl and I just *ded* Please listen to Move Like The Ocean by Bad Suns. I'm a sucker for early 10s songs. So beachyy~

P.O.V#1: Part 2

RILEY ELLIOT KING

Penelope Jones was beautiful.

The kind of beautiful that made one uneasy being in the same room as them. Body too enticing. Smile too perfect. Eyes too wide. Expression too bright. Disgust was the first feeling Riley felt—whether it was disgust in himself for existing in her presence or for her existing at all, he wasn't sure. It didn't last long; in fact, it was so fleeting that between accidentally knocking into her and catching her, he'd already felt that familiar hold of excitement come over him. She was new. If he believed in objectifying women, he'd have compared her to a toy that he had yet to play with—but the desire to have her was comparable to any other cute toy in his sights (and the guy really wasn't picky).

Regardless, it wasn't any of that which drew him in. Being a connoisseur-of-lies himself, he recognized that measly mask she wore like it was nothing to him—it barely even fit her face to begin with. And not to mention, her haunted expression underneath was almost violently out in the open. It wasn't her pain that made him stop and wonder... it was her inability to hide it. Surrounded by near-sociopaths his entire life, Riley had never seen someone so hilariously awful at keeping their secrets... well, a secret.

It was almost cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

Even then, he could have easily forgotten about her. No, rather than all of that, it was because she was like a violent and suffocating gust of wind: blowing him off his perfectly-messily paved track... and nearly breaking his nose in the process. She was... many things.

A relentless annoyance.

An infuriating disturbance.

An unforgiving occurrence.

Whatever it was she was, it left an impression he couldn't forget.

She pried emotions out of him with her tears and anger; questioned his logic with her shaken words and unsure eyes and determined mindset; and made him yearn for things that he had never let himself want before. At that moment (when the steel door practically deviated his septum in her abrupt outburst), he was fantastically intrigued and powerless to stop himself from figuring out more. Or perhaps, he wanted to prove to himself that everyone was the same deep down: selfish; bloodthirsty; manipulative. But nonetheless, the results were the same: like having seen colour after only seeing grey, he couldn't take his eyes off her. And whether it was naivety, stupidity, or denial on her part, the girl seemed to tempt fate and attract danger just by existing. Maybe it really was all just so he could prove his point... or perhaps, that was just the lie he told himself at night so he could sleep. In the end it didn't matter, because suddenly Riley was unable to refrain from dwelling... from caring about something other than cheap thrills and temporary pleasures. And most importantly, from getting involved.

Thus, the damsel-in-distress with an attitude problem caught herself a dark knight... albeit a slightly annoyed and ill-mannered knight (that would vehemently deny being anyone's cavalier).

The task itself wasn't terribly difficult for him (seeing as he hated being in classes anyways)—the prank videos completely covered the academy's dare page, all that was left for him to do was to watch them and reverse anything their schoolmates had done. He'd hang the missing towels and clothes back up in the changeroom beside the girls' showers; switch out her meals that had been spoiled by a variety of disgusting methods; take down tripwires connected to buckets on doors and remove tacks from seats and desks; he'd even give her dry clothes, pull her back from being pushed down the stairs, keep her away from falling statues, and (perhaps the worse of them all) save her from locked, tampered boiler rooms and non-consensual drugs.