[BL] The Darling Villain

Chapter 83. The Snapping Strand

Lucilline suffered from a sleepless night. The wisps of thin threaded clouds banked upon the dark skies, thickening into a dancing figure. What exactly am I? Lucilline turned over on his bed, his blankets shuffling to every inch of movement. Am I a monster? I was able to kill that mind demon... but I have no control over this power.

His red eyes seemed to signify something unspeakable—something he could not put into words. It made him afraid, yet he still relished it, chasing after it like an addict.

"Willow," In the morning, Lucilline summoned his maidservant to his side. He tapped a finger on his teacup, watching ripples stroke across the tea's surface. The white-haired maid stood by his side nervously, her gaze not daring to linger upon his face. "Do you think I'm a monster?"

The white-haired maid perked up in confusion.

Willow frowned, "No, Young Master." She was about to question why, but was quickly interrupted. "Good. Let's go." Lucilline did not allow for any questions to be asked.

They prepared a carriage, and headed for S Academy.

*****

The class was short-lived. Miss A. inquired for his absence from yesterday, but Lucilline brushed it off as merely being busy. The blonde-haired teacher could only sigh in discontent, trying to hide her disappointment from the noble teenager.

Lucilline did not mind. Rather, he couldn't care any less.

During lunch time, the black-haired nobleman sat lazily in the school's courtyard. His relaxed figure slumped upon the back of the bench, an endearing black coat spread across his lap. The sun's rays of light warmed his stomach, and Lucilline closed his eyes.

Even with his eyes closed, he could still perceive the sunlight lightening up his surroundings.

All of a sudden, the black-haired nobleman felt his eyelid twitch.

His golden eyes fluttered open, only to meet with the astounding sight of a pure and flawless figure. Strands of silver hair reflected upon Lucilline's vision, and beads of sweat rolled down that figure's glistening forehead. A pair of familiar amethyst purple eyes met his.

That white-haired teenage froze, looked towards him, nodded, and then narrowly ducked.

He dodged the swing of a wooden sword—and only then did Lucilline realize that this white-haired teenager was sparring with a student. Their wooden swords swung at one another, creating a large impact to ripple across their arms, numbing their flesh cold.

The black-haired nobleman gazed upon this scene with little interest.

It's just another spar between fellow students. There was already a crowd forming around the match, with plenty of other students watching, excitement laced in their hushed whispers. Lucilline couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. Is there really a need for such a crowd?

"They're so fast!"

"Yes! I haven't seen such a fascinating spar in a long time!"

"Who is that handsome white-haired boy? I've never seen him before!"

"Uh— he's in our neighbouring class! I heard he's a transfer."

"Seriously?"

"Don't even think about involving yourself with him. He's a commoner."