𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒

Honesty

Instantly, your smile soured. "Fuck you."

"...Excuse me?"

"You can't make those jokes. 'Hospital bills? I'm not that rich'. Ha, ha, ha. So funny. So relatable– Shut up."

Caspar blinked in astonishment. 'What the hell?' he thought. Where did that come from? Had you not been begging on your knees and crying for his forgiveness just a moment ago? Your expressions went from anxious, remorseful, shocked and deranged, then finally settled on that saccharine smile. And now this.

"I-I don't understand," he said.

"'Course you won't. You come from royalty, your family has highly successful businesses, and you're all billion-billionaires. You're practically aliens."

"Aliens?" Caspar snorted. "My family worked hard for their wealth. It's not easy being born to rule a kingdom. Nor is it easy to cut your employees' salaries to meet quarters, make good profit and keep up a successful brand image. I have so much money that I don't know what to do with it. Darling, you don't understand how difficult it is being as rich as I am!"

Every muscle in your body twitched - mostly your fingers, your left eye and the corners of your mouth. You wondered how far away you were from your locker, where you had the other half of your weapon supplies left.

He frowned in concern. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

"I'm poor. I need money. Why would I be okay?"

"How sad. Ah! I have something that can help." Caspar dug into his pockets, then handed you a card. 'A credit card?' you thought, your hope rising like a helium balloon. That is, until you looked at it. He continued, "...A 2% off coupon card for Papa Bagel!"

You stared at the card for five long seconds. Then you put it in your mouth, chewed, and swallowed. You ate the coupon card.

"Mm. Tastes like tax evasion."

"WHY? WHY would you do that!?" bawled Caspar. "W-Why are you being so mean now? Seamus said you–you were kind and sweet and that we should get married when we're older."

"Marriage is for losers," you lied. A part of you (that you attempted to assassinate numerous times) still hoped for marriage in the future. But that part was severely incapacitated, you made sure of it. Also when did that butler say those things? "The old man probably went senile before he died. It was your fault for believing him. 'Tis a lesson in life: believe what you see, not what you hear. And you see this?" You gestured over yourself. "'Kind' and 'sweet' are not part of this temple."

Caspar's eyes roved over your figure slowly. Top - to bottom - to top. Five times. "I beg to differ, my sweetheart."

You felt violated, so you kicked him down the stairs. You heard a crack somewhere. Good. You hoped he broke a bone somewhere.

"Ouchie." Like a fawn, he stumbled to a stand. Trembling hands fished something out of his other pocket. It was a glazed bagel, broken in halves. The crack was from the bagel, you realised with bitter disappointment. "My spare bagel. It died."

"Collateral damage."

"You...You fiend! How could you?"

Despite himself, your moment of heartlessness made his pulse race.

Caspar was sprawled on the linoleum floor, his short black hair mussed and the top three buttons of his school shirt undone from the fall. Conflicting emotions swirled in his eyes. He wanted to despise you in that moment, but the compliments you gave him on Sunday, the first of July, inflated his head and heart and made him dizzy. Those words painted a rosy portrait of you in his mind, more beautiful than the Mona Lisa and Aphrodite combined.