𝒲𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒲ℴ𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹： 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓌 ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒽ℯ ℱ𝓇ℴ𝓏ℯ𝓃 ℋℯ𝒶𝓇𝓉

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑈𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑠： 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 35

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"It's great that we'll soon be connected, With a king who'll be all-time adored"

**
Ramshackle Dorm - Lounge

The next morning came quietly, though the Ramshackle lounge

Much to Grim's visible dismay, Y/n, Isfrid, Vanitas, and Noé were already seated around the low study table, a quiet herbal study session underway. Steam rose from the delicate teacups, and beside them were small plates of carefully arranged poisonous herbs — a specialized snack that only Y/n and Isfrid nibbled at with ease, their bodies long since adapted to it. Crewel had given his begrudging permission the day before, albeit with his usual flair for dramatic warnings.

Noé, jacket folded neatly beside him, was focused on reading a textbook aloud in his gentle voice, occasionally jotting down notes. Isfrid, shirt and vest unbuttoned to the midriff, leaned casually back on his seat, abs unapologetically on display, his crystalline eyes flicking over his sister every few seconds—more to keep tabs on her than his homework.

But Vanitas?

Vanitas wasn't reading. Wasn't writing.

He was staring.

Not subtly. Not politely. Noé had tried not to comment on it, but Vanitas hadn't looked away from Y/n since she'd entered the room. The moment she blew a piece of hair from her face, or balanced her magic pen above her lips with a faint pout, his gaze would darken—something soft yet completely feral dancing behind those bright blue eyes.

"You're going to burn holes through her if you keep that up," Isfrid muttered under his breath, not bothering to hide the venom laced behind it.

Vanitas gave a soft hum, resting his chin on one gloved hand. "Can you blame me? She's far more interesting than anything written in these pathetic books."

Y/n didn't respond—used to both their obsessive attentions by now. She calmly took another sip of her tea, pen scratching against paper.

Grim groaned from the sofa where he laid sprawled on his side like a wilted flower. "Man... If I can't be in the Spelldrive tournament, then what's even the point anymore?" he sulked dramatically.

"You're still not over that?" Noé asked with a tilt of his head, though his tone was kind.

"Melodramatic much?" Isfrid cringed, shooting Grim a bored glare. His unbuttoned white shirt hung loose around his shoulders, revealing the sculpted abs he didn't bother hiding that would make any female and gay men go crazy over.

"What's wrong, Grimmy? Something got ya down?" Gus asked, floating over Grim with a chuckle.

"He's sulking because he can't play in the Spelldrive tournament," Y/n answered casually, her tone soft as she kept her gaze fixed on her notes.

Vanitas, sprawled across the floor with his chin resting in his palm, barely looked at Grim. His deep blue eyes were locked entirely on Y/n, completely ignoring the conversation until he finally spoke up.

"Isfrid's right. He's being dramatic," Vanitas muttered, tone flat—though his gaze never strayed from the way Y/n's fingers delicately curled around her teacup.