Purée

Protective

**Chapter: Games and Daggers**

Lying on the common room couch with my head comfortably resting on Tom's brother's lap, I lazily held up my hands, framing a space between them. "This big?" I asked, my tone nonchalant. Mattheo smirked and moved my hands closer together, narrowing the gap.

"Right, so if that's 'average,' it ain't his hair or eyes. Gotta be his personality," I mused aloud, sitting up slowly as the realization dawned on me.

Pansy entered the room, her presence as annoying as ever. "Took you an hour to figure that out?" she sneered.

I rolled my eyes. "No wonder you hurt me—no one else is that dense," I shot back, sarcasm dripping from every word. My head lolled back dramatically as I sighed. "I need a drink."

Joshua's voice cut through the room like a whip. "No."

I rolled my eyes again. He was always trying to control something. "Of water or any other liquids," I clarified, turning to glance over my shoulder at him with a smirk.

"You hate water, so that's a lie," he said, his tone softening as he walked over and sat beside me.

"Just one sip," he coaxed, holding out a glass. I smiled sweetly, took it, and drank more than one sip—because I could. "Yum," I grinned, then lazily flopped back down, my head returning to Mattheo's lap. "I'm comfy here, so don't move," I commanded with my eyes closed.

"You're in the worst spot for him; he will move," Pansy chimed in, her voice grating on my nerves.

"What the fuck?" I opened my eyes, glaring at her. "It's his body; he knows what's 'the worst spot' and what isn't. No wonder he just fucks you without any meaning behind it. You catch feelings too fast." I sat up, my gaze fixed on her, utterly confused by her audacity.

"Shhh," Joshua whispered, trying to defuse the situation.

"No, why should I?" I snapped. "I only speak the truth, and I'll keep speaking the truth, so she knows—not everyone is lying to her face." I pointed a finger at Pansy, my tone firm.

"Now I'm confused. Who are you defending?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nobody," I muttered, slipping on my shoes as I stood up. The room felt stifling, and I needed to escape. As I moved toward the exit, I was yanked to the wall by the one person I had been itching to face—Caitlin Black.

"Bad timing?" she pouted mockingly, pressing her dagger against my skin, the cold metal teasing my neck. My smile only grew wider.

"Not... one... bit," I whispered, my voice laced with anticipation.

"Shame," she sneered, her eyes alight with twisted delight. "But it's happy for me, handing my brother your head while we both laugh at your stupidity."

She fancied herself far too much, and it was amusing. "How would he feel if it were yours instead of mine? Happy that he won't have to care about your... whatever? Or glad that I finally fulfilled my dream of killing you?" I taunted, my voice dripping with dark promise.

"Neither. He would hate you," she retorted, her pout growing more exaggerated.

"Sure he would. Or maybe I kill you and then fuck him to sweep his feelings away?" I suggested, my tone nonchalant. Her grip tightened, and she moved closer. Any closer, and she would pierce my skin.

"And now I've had enough of this lovely chit-chat," I snapped, sweeping her leg out from under her and quickly shielding my neck. She managed to slice my wrist, but I barely felt the sting. I glared down at her, grabbing the dagger and stabbing it into her arm, pinning her to the ground. "Do that again, and your arm will be the least of your worries," I hissed, yanking the blade free before walking away, blood dripping from my wrist.

Back in my room, I found Regulus standing by the window, his expression unreadable. "Regi?" I called softly, placing my shoes down.

He turned around, his eyes catching mine with a mix of concern and something else. "We need to make a deal," he said, his voice unusually soft. "You can't kill my sister. As much as she's a brat, I need her alive for Mother."

I shrugged, lying down on my bed. "If she taunts me, I will hurt her. I had my fun, and she had hers."

"You let her have her fun, didn't you?" he asked, his tone almost accusatory.

"It would only be fair if she goes again, you know who the problem is," I replied, turning my gaze to him.

"And if she makes you the problem?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

"Which she will," I said confidently. "She'll make herself the victim. 'Oh, Regi, she did that herself, she's insane,'" I mocked in a high-pitched voice, mimicking Caitlin's dramatics. "She'll try to break the deal, then a few days later, she'll be hopping on everyone's lap, feeling all happy."

"Ew, don't call it that," he grimaced, but I could see a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed, pointing at him. "You know it's true. You can see through her lies just like you can see through mine."

He moved closer, taking my hand, but I pulled him down onto the bed with me, climbing onto his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. "No, Regi. She isn't a good actor. Don't lie to yourself," I whispered, my voice softening as I looked into his eyes.

"Can't this wait?" he asked, trying to maintain a serious tone, but I could feel his resolve weakening.

I wiggled a little, teasing him. "No," I said, pretending to be stern.

He glared at me, but his glare lacked any real heat. "Can you wait? Are you feeling needy?" I mimicked in a deep voice, frowning dramatically.

"You idiot," he muttered, shoving my face away playfully. I laughed, rolling off him, but not before planting a quick kiss on his cheek.

As he reached the door, I couldn't resist. "Tell your sister I fucked you—I want to see her reaction!" I shouted after him, knowing full well what her response would be. That would be the perfect way to turn the tables, to watch her crumble under the weight of her own insecurities.

"No!" he shouted back, his voice echoing down the hall.

I rolled my eyes, a smirk playing on my lips. Playing with a string on his bed bored