Mercy [boyxboy]

Chapter Two

Mercy's pencil is mid-stroke when Annie drops unceremoniously into the chair beside him. He succeeds in ignoring her for all of two minutes before she reaches towards him and cards her hand through his messy mop of black hair. "What shampoo do you use?" she asks innocently, making Mercy's irritation rise to alarming levels.

"Stop touching me," he demands, jerking his head back to glare contemptuously at her.

Annie smirks. "Aw, but you're just so adorable I can't help myself," she coos, pulling back to rest her chin in the curve of her palms. She looks pretty as always, eyes carefully accented with blacks and grays. Her gaze is also as vile as ever, reminding Mercy exactly why he should be wary of her.

He decides not to respond and instead continues copying the sections they'll be quizzed over during the next lecture.

"Come now Mercurius," she says playfully, "can't you see I only want to be your friend?" Her voice carries a sugary sweet overtone that he's come to abhor in the short week he's known her.

"Don't call me that," he snaps at her, accidentally breaking off the head of his pencil. He curses softly under his breath as he discards the ruined pencil, snatches up another of his assorted writing utensils, and crankily resumes taking pre-lecture notes.

"Then what should I call you?" Annie asks, a hint of true curiosity threaded throughout her words.

"Mercy," he answers sharply as he continues to write.

Annie laughs in outright cruel amusement. "Mercy?" she repeats skeptically. "Don't you think that puts damper on your bad boy image?" She turns away from him then to begin scrawling her own brand of notes in her obnoxiously pink notepad. Mercy glances at her, silently envious of her beautiful script and swift hand.

"All the better," he replies, tone bored. "I never intended to be thought of that way."

"Oh really," Annie hums, setting her pen aside to look towards Mercy again. "And in what way did you intend to be thought of?"

"None of your business."

"I'll find out your secret eventually," she promises, pausing for effect, "Mercy."

Mercy tries to ignore the way she looks at him as if she's founds something particularly interesting to play with, but fails abysmally. His stomach churns nervously, tightening uncomfortably. Annie's a type he's very familiar with; she's seeking a way to get on his family's good side. After all, what better a way to do whatever misdeeds she desires than with the protection of a family notorious for being above the law? It's only a matter of time before she discovers he's not at all like his family. That frightens him as it could just as well cause her disinterest as it could lead to his manipulation.

He knows he's weak, unable to break free from the bounds created by his family. He's aware what others expect from him; cruelty, cunning, and manipulation. It's suffocating. He'd thought that by coming here, by attending this university, perhaps...

But it seems reality is far more harsh a mistress than he originally thought.

"If you would please turn to page two-hundred and forty-five in your history textbooks," Langley drones, drawing Mercy from his spiraling thoughts. He obliges, moving his thoughts on from pointless depressing things to the history of Amberlin and the six divisions it's comprised of.

The lecture passes without incident, Mercy listening avidly, soaking up as much information as his brain will allow. However, Langley dismisses them five minutes early and Annie latches onto Mercy like a leech. She stands the moment he does, tucks her things under her arm, and hooks his with her other.