Superlative

EPISODE SEVEN

{ THE CONFEDERATE | DIVISION ALPHA, IMPERIAL CONSERVATOIRE | COORDINATES: X-7462 Y-2735 | 6TH SUN, 12TH MOON | 3:45PM }

Core was having a shitty day.

First off, she was running on painkillers and caffeine — not exactly the safest combinations out there, but she needed to be awake to give Sebastian a piece of her mind (and a punch in the face, or two), plan to stop the Intergalactic Exploration, and get through schooling all in one go. Her arm wasn't broken but it was extremely sore from the plasma shot, so Aurora had slathered a generous amount of a concocted balm the secretly-training-medic had made. Her ankle was another issue altogether, though. She had sprained it when she landed all wrong, so now it was wrapped up with herbs, hidden within her boot. The only reason she could walk without waddling weirdly was Knox, who supported her on her weaker side and stuck to her like glue the entire day.

Second, she had to sit through all her classes today, all seven hours of them, before she can even begin to hunt Seb down. As Aurora had predicted, he hadn't even come to her rooms to go through their routine, apparently already somewhere in military headquarters making preparations. Core was annoyed for two reasons: 1) He didn't even leave a fucking message or something, and 2) he actually broke their routine. Even if Core was out patrolling all night as Nightshade, she made sure to always be in her bed before Seb would come to wake her up, because it was their routine and it was a contract they had — or so she thought.

Third, just when she thought she couldn't suffer any more than this, Van came swaggering towards her as Knox went to get his hovercar (because Seb was otherwise too indisposed to remember he was Core's only mode of transport — legally at least). The asshole had timed it to make sure Core was alone (with Knox getting their ride and Aurora riding her own), and even if there were students scattered around the courtyard she was waiting at, Core knew Van wasn't scared of public displays; in fact, the audience always seemed to inspire him in nasty ways.

"Coraline," Van greeted, reaching for Core's hand and pressing his lips to the back of her palm. His eyes stayed glued to hers the entire time, watching her reaction.

It made her shiver, and not in a good way.

"Van," Core returned tersely. She tried her best not to snatch her hand away from his grip, withdrawing it gracefully instead. "Not heading home yet?"

He grinned with his teeth on full display. "Not quite. I have some...business to take care of."

Core knew he was heavily implying that he had business with her, so she clasped her hands together behind her back and tilted her head up at him (the boy was infuriatingly tall), smiling as cheekily as she could. She'd rather shoot herself than show any emotion but utmost confidence in front of someone like Van. Besides, it was about time the boy really chalked up what he wanted from her. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your...business?" she purred.

The smug look of triumph that overtook his features was difficult to ignore, but Core did lest she end up punching it off. He took a step forward, getting in her personal space, as his hand reached up to brush a strand of hair back from Core's face. "You're a smart woman, Coraline." Then he leaned closer, their noses almost touching, and Core told herself to fucking stay still. "I happen to like smart women."

"Do be careful, Van," Core said in what she hoped was a sultry manner. "Smart girls don't take too kindly to men who are all talk and no action."

Core almost breathed a sigh of relief as Van laughed, throwing his head back to give her space again. When he finished, he returned to leering at her, a pompous smile plastered on his face as he slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "We'd be so good together, Coraline, and this is proof of it. There's always such passion in our conversations, can't you see? Why don't you leave that Knox for me instead?"