The Destiny of the Villainess is Tears

Second Year

I walk down the stairs, dressed in a navy blue gown and silver accessories, my hair wound into a loose braid that falls over my shoulder. A small crowd of girls linger near the main lobby of the women's dormitory, many of them holding little balls of fire. I head past them and outside.

Viktor is waiting for me in the gardens, as per our custom, seated on one of the stone benches. His eyes are closed, head bowed as if in thought. I stroll up to him and sit beside him, nestling myself comfortably in the warmth of his body and sighing in relief. His hand slips over mine and grips it firmly, holding it on his thigh as I settle against him.

"Happy Birthday." I greet him quietly.

"Mn. Thank you, dear Ophelia." He nuzzles my head before pulling back a bit to press a brief kiss to my cheek. "I am happy to see you. Someone in healing class managed to leak my birthday to the entire academy. The constant attention has been....exhausting."

I chuckle lightly at the sour tone. "Darling, you should try to be friendlier with people."

"It is hard for me to become friends with anyone other than you."

"It is not my fault I am irresistibly charming and so smart that you're smitten by me. It's not like I had anything to do with that."

Viktor opens his mouth and begins to respond, but stops himself. His brows furrow as he searches my face, but I only smile sweetly and reach up to pat his cheek. His lips twitch, as if fighting not to break into a smile. He ends up looking like a very disgruntled kitten, and I have to bite back the laughter at that thought.

"Viktor, don't look at me like that! I was joking~" I tilt my head as I study him.

He's doing an admirable job not revealing the hints of a smile playing at the corner of his lips, but it's not enough to fool me. His green eyes sparkle brightly. He presses a gloved hand to mine. "You have me caught." His voice is so smooth and silky that I wonder if there's anything he could ask of me that I would refuse. "What punishment do you have in store for me?"

He's asking to be kissed.

My lips curve into a playful smirk, and I shift back to prop my hands behind me and steady myself before lifting a leg to straddle him, and pressing him back into the bench. He falls against the arm of the bench as I loom over him, pinning him in place. Viktor looks a bit dazed. His green eyes are glassy, and he's staring at my lips. I know what he wants.

My eyes drift from his eyes to his lips. We're both adults now. This is Viktor's 19th birthday, but I - Ophelia - turned 18 a month before. We're no longer 'young folk in love' but two marriageable adults with clear intent. I feel like I'm living in a dream, floating on air (ironic, because I can't get the slightest gust of air magically).

I love him.

I want him.

I'm in love with him.

My hands caress his cheeks and slide back to cup his head. I hold his face gently between my palms and my lips trace the lines of his lips before I press into him, deepening it. I taste strawberries and mint. It must be from his tea. It's intoxicating.

I can't stop kissing him.

It's not enough.

I'm insatiable.

My Viktor is an utter gentleman, despite his protests to the contrary, and doesn't lay a hand on me, even in a situation like this, where I've made myself so vulnerable. Instead his arms wrap around me, his fingers twisting and curling in the fabric of my skirt to resist the temptation. I let out a quiet laugh against his lips.