THE UNEXPECTED KILLER [G!P]

Chapter 25

"I hope everyone has started with their profiles."

Becky dropped her gaze down to her textbook, swiftly avoiding eye contact with Professor Tan at those words. If something that over a year of college had thoroughly taught Becky, was to know that by the word hope, Professor Tan meant 'you-goddamn-better-have.'

"In the real world, it all comes down to a criminal profile," The Professor spoke in a monotone, "so make it count."

Her words made Becky flinch a little. She hadn't even touched her file yet.

While others talked in hushed tones about the victims and backgrounds of their diverse subjects, Becky could only mentally sigh at her limited knowledge about the mystery that was Freen Chankimha.

And what information did Becky have about her, other than the fact that Freen Chankimha thought of her deranged self as an artist? Nothing. Nothing at all.

All that Becky had managed to get from the past four meetings she'd had with that lunatic, was, shit scared.

A huge part of Becky nagged at her obvious slack in schoolwork, making mental points to not let Freen Chankimha side-track her from her priority. She needed to be stronger. She had to. Otherwise, it was going to cost Becky everything she'd worked for.

Suddenly, as if in a response triggered from her memory at her attempts to keep her shit together, their conversation from last time emerged in her mind, leaving her entirely unsettled.

"Every blood spilled tells a story."

Becky shook her head to force the horrid recollection away, mahogany curls flying everywhere.

"Bec, I think you're scaring the girl behind you," Becky turned to Heng's voice, not bothering to see where he was pointing. She shot him a brief glare, before turning back to her book.

"Mr. Asavarid," A strident tone turned both of their attention to an impassive faced Professor Tan. "Is there something interesting you need to discuss with Miss Armstrong that you perhaps, like to share with the rest of the hall?" Unlike other professors who did not give a single shit about what students did in class, Professor Tan was quite the stickler for decorum.

With a very signature Heng Asavarid grin on his face, he began, "Not at all, Miss T." It most certainly didn't take a masters in deciphering expressions to know that the little nickname Heng had for Professor Tan, pissed her off on every pivotal level.

"Mr. Asavarid," She approached his seat with the steath of a calculated panther. "The entry to the Human Resources Department had been spray painted with some very colorful choice of words, earlier this morning," she smiled, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, now would you?"

Becky watched as the smugness slowly desiccated from her friend's face for a small millisecond, before being plastered right back as it was before.

"Nope, Miss T."

Professor Tan shot Heng a definitive look, before turning back around and dismissing the lecture for the day.

"Fucking bitch," Becky heard Heng mutter under his breath as he got up.

"You didn't do it.....right?" Becky questioned, her words sounding more sceptic than she'd intended them to.

And just like that, the signature Heng Asavarid grin, unforced, was right back on his face.

"Of course I did, my dear Becky."

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A/N: Heng you little troublemaker! Hahaha. Anyways, Vote? Comment? Follow? See yaaa<3