LEONIE MALLOW: WINTER, 1972
Leonie Mallow was downright miserable. She'd suspected that after the talk Carolina had forced the group to have that everything would be better between her and Draya, but she suspected incorrectly.
Leonie still spent her time with the Judas Society kids and Draya spent hers with the girls. Draya still made sly comments to her and Leonie still sent attitude back. Nothing had changed, they just spent more time together and had more arguments because of it.
On November 3rd, the girls sang Happy Birthday to Carolina. Maeena, Dazai, and Draya sang it, that is. Leonie sat next to George Yaxley and Sinistra Cresswell, watching from afar. She hadn't been asked to be there, so she wasn't.
Then, Draya's mood came. Her horrid, terrible mood came. She wallowed insistently, refusing to see the light of anything. Anytime she spent time with Leonie alone, a fight broke out or nothing was said; but there was no in between.
Which is how Leonie found herself in the library, pretending to write her Sacred Scripture II essay and hiding the fact that tears were rolling smoothly down her cheeks.
That's how she found herself hearing the familiar step of Draya's shoes and pretending it didn't bother her that Draya only turned around and left.
Dazai had been accompanying Leonie earlier, the girls working on homework together. Apparently Draya had no interest in staying with Leonie, alone.
Someone else did, though. A chair was being pulled out next to her, and then someone was flopping down into it. She looked up slowly, wishing she had a spell that hid the redness in her eyes. Sviatoslav Atreides.
Leonie straightened her back the way she did when Sinistra gave her a look, she pushed her hair out of her face the way she did when her father was near, and she forced the tears to stop the way she did when Irini was shouting at her. Then, she spoke. "Sviat."
"Leonie." He returned, a sly smile on his face. "Are you okay?" Leonie was remembering now why she didn't speak to Sviatoslav. The boy matched her, wit for wit, always.
"I'm fine." Leonie told him dryly, ignoring the way her voice wavered. "Is there something you need?"
"You were crying," Sviat wasn't answering the question, purposefully. Because they both knew he didn't need anything from her, that there was nothing that he could possibly need from her.
"No I wasn't." Which was a ridiculous way to deflect the attention, but she was on short notice. If she'd known she was going to need an excuse in advance, she would've come up with a much better one.
"You've still got tears on your cheeks." Sviat's eyebrows furrowed, as if her dismissal was confusing to him. She wanted to throttle him. He knew her outside of The Academy, should've known the innerworkings of her mind in a way that most children didn't. Should've known the innerworkings of her mind in a way that only a child of a Dark warlock could.
"No I haven't." Leonie insisted, leaning back in her chair, feigning relaxation. "Is there something you need, Atreides, or are you here to waste my time?"
Sviat chewed on the inside of his lip, then lent down to grab something out of his bag. "Are you working on Sacred Scripture? The essay?"
Leonie blanched, because she wasn't expecting this. She wasn't expecting this at all. She was trying to gather her wits, but couldn't do so as quickly as she wanted to. So she only nodded.
"Great, I'll work with you." He wasn't asking. Knew he didn't have to. Knew that she wouldn't say no, because she had never told Sviatoslav no.
The Atreides are a powerful family, Leonie. If you're smart, you'll give that boy anything he wants. The words of her mother echoed in her mind.
