Quandrivium
(n). the intersection of four roads
. . .
The walk back to the common room was the most awkward of Rocio's life. The anger had already begun to subside, bubbling down into confusion. Angelica had her mouth tightly clamped shut. If Rocio had known better, they would have said Angelica was about to cry.
Angelica stalked into away from the library "I need a drink"
"Wow, so responsible of you, spectre. Setting a model example for the other students."
"You're one to talk Rocio."
"I never pretended to be a moral paragon."
"Look, can you. . .can you just be quiet please and come with me."
"Oh finally. You know, I didn't think stress sex was your thing. If I had known, I would have worn my nice underwear."
Angelica didn't even look back at them as she walked away, so quickly that Rocio had to jog to keep up. Rocio enjoyed ruffling Angelica's feathers, but if she was so stressed she couldn't fight, then Rocio wasn't about to be an ass and keep going with her. They had limits.
Angelica, who usually commanded a room without a single word, moved through the hallways like a scared first year. Her arms formed a barrier around her and she watched the floor with a feverish intensity. That scared Rocio just as much as her silence had. What had happened that scared her so much?
Rocio was out of breath by the time they made it to the common room. Luckily, it was empty, so they flung themselves onto the nearby coach, one eye slightly open to watch Angelica.
The spectre moved like she was shedding a suit of armor. Her arms left her sides and she swung them around, forcing the evil spirits away from her as much as she could muster. Still moving at a furious speed, she made straight for the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of amber colored liquid. She poured two fingers worth of whiskey, downing it faster than a drowning man would down a tumbler of water.
Rocio watched Angelica down that whiskey with more than a little concern. Angelica poured herself another, then slid down to the ground, whiskey glass still in hand.
Abandoning nonchalance, Rocio fully studied Angelica. Her legs were on the verge of shaking and her eyes had that wide eyed crazy look that meant she was close to losing her shit. Not that Rocio would know. Angelica never lost her cool in front of Rocio, no matter how much they poked and prodded.
They sighed, running a hand through their hair and went into the kitchen. The common room was open floor plan, so they could keep an eye on Angelica while getting a glass of water. They placed it on the bar beside the spectre, who was staring off into the distance, hands clenched hard enough as if she could will the whiskey into working.
Angelica took a deep breath through her nose. "Okay. I'm ready now."
"I'm listening."
"I didn't lie to you when I said we needed to steal those necklaces. Shahmaran was after them."
"Then why did she think I was you?"
"Because she has no idea who you are." Rocio furrowed their brow, but Angelica kept talking. "For all that Shahmaran knows, I roped you into this."
"You did though." Rocio pointed out.
"That's. . . not entirely true." Angelica admitted. "Do you know where I got my necklace."
