ᯓ⭐ WEEK THREE MINGLE

Happy third week, lovebirds! Here's to hoping you're riding high on the wave of success of one whole pair being correct! Surely you must have an idea by now how to win this thing!

Probably?

The good news is that you're not going to have to find yourselves in any weird clothes this time around, except maybe that just leads to a strange sense of foreboding for a future scenario...? Who knows. You can't quite brace yourself for it this time.

But don't worry, it's not like there's nothing happening. On the contrary!

For the entirety of this week, you'll find yourself feeling... clingy. It's going to start feeling very strange if you're not leaning on someone, holding their hand, cuddling with them, sitting in their lap, stealing a kiss, or engaging in some other form of affectionate physical contact. And if it's someone you're already feeling fond of OR someone you actually can't stand, guess what?

That feeling is doubled!

You may realize this is an unusual feeling, but so what? Trying to ignore it is only going to make it feel stronger and do you really want to make yourselves feel miserable?

Shut up, masochists.

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[He blinks.

All of his irritation up to this point fades, replaced by a look of surprise. Mithra neither chases nor pulls back to leave. He simply stares at her, visibly taken aback.]

[Oh? Damn it, why is she the one who's surprised now? Manuela had assumed he'd crawl away without changing his expression at all.]

What is it?

[For someone of his nature, the question feels like a trap.

There are only so many ways he can answer. It doesn't matter in the end, because the words don't come. Rather, the odd feeling that's been building since they drew closer compels his hand to ghost across the sheets between them and settle over hers as he drops his gaze.]

[Ah, it's another one of those this might as well happen moments. Except she's never really been one for this might as well happen. If she's going to wind up neck-deep, she'll be responsible for the choice.

Since having his hand over hers is familiar after their disaster of a first week, she doesn't pull away.]

You probably won't get any more sleep like this than all the other times. Do you want to hear a bedtime story?

[His hand rests atop hers, long fingers splayed where they fall. He makes no move to grasp her hand, instead contenting himself with the barest contact before his eyes lift.]

Huh? I'm not an infant . . . and I slept earlier.

[He'll soon be sleep-deprived now that the strange magic of his role as sleeping royalty has lifted, but what little time he was able to steal for himself has done wonders for the ever present bags under his eyes, which fall again.]

No, you just act like one.

[There's no effort made to hold her hand, and she doesn't make any to initiate it, either, but she does draw her thumb along the back of his knuckles. She'd sooner be caught dead than saying it out loud, but after going so long without sleep, it's a relief he was able to rest. It would kill someone who wasn't a wizard.]

But I can still tell you something if you wanna hear me yammer. [It's her offer of a return secret but nothing he's required to take. He just seems annoyed by most of the things she tells him.]

[Mithra's eyes narrow. He's often called childish, but even a child is older than an infant. A surge of petulance rises with the odd urge, and he retracts his hand to lie down and rest his head on one of her thighs instead.

He stares up at her.]

Didn't I tell you? You should do as you please.

If I hear that again, "as I please" will be dumping you out of my lap.

[Or wherever he is, if they happened to have moved somewhere else by the time it happens.]

You know I was injured when I cam here, right? Actually, I guess maybe you wouldn't. Well, anyway, I was attacked on monastery grounds while looking for a missing student. The guy who did it got away.

[That's not really the secret. It's the preamble. She has far more words to tell stories than the wizard squad here does.]

[Feisty. He makes himself comfortable on said lap as he listens, and for once he doesn't have to strain in order to follow along for more than a handful of words.]

You look fine now, though.

Yeah, I look great, thanks. [She's been recovering well, even if she hasn't been able to visit the infirmary for regular checks.]

But the thing is... it still hurts. When it rains, when I get ticked off and start bickering with someone... when I dwell on it too much. It hurts when it has no reason to. I think it probably will for the rest of my life until I get my hands on that guy and finally pay him back with a stab or two of my own.

[Recognition flickers to life in his eyes. Now that's a sentiment he can understand. There are certain hurts that linger from a slighted pride; in such cases, comeuppance tastes like fine wine.]

Then you know the one who's responsible. Will you pursue him once this is over?

More or less. [She sighs, irritated. Her hand ghosts to her side but leaves the site of the wound alone.]

He vanished without a trace, so I'd need to find out where he's hiding first. Once I do, though... I'm not letting him get away again.

[He cracks a smile.]

How interesting. I'd like to see when that happens.

... Are you smiling? About the guy who stabbed me?

[Well, about her running off to stab him back. Still, he'll have to forgive her for being surprised by the rare sight.]

[Indeed, he is. Why wouldn't he be?]

It'll be the moment he receives the frustration you've felt at his hands. That's a good thing, no? I'm curious to know how you'll do it.

... I haven't gotten there yet. [She's too impulsive to have planned out her vengeance; she just knows that she wants it.]

All I know is that I want to be there when he gets his just desserts, and I want to have a hand in it. [There's righteous anger in there, of course, but there might also be a little...worry. Embarrassment. Humiliation. It may have been an unfair fight, but she still failed, even if she was able to leave a clue for those who were actually able to pursue him.]

[That's fair. She'll have to fight for the right if there are others in the race, but she seems determined enough.]

With a sword?

[She mentioned a stab or two, so . . . ]

Yeah, that'd be preferable. [That's an understatement.] See how he likes being a pincushion.

Maybe it's dumb - keep your mouth shut when a girl's complaining, or she'll kick you off - but I feel like I've got something to prove now.

[She's going to cut off any preemptive responses of "Yes, it's dumb." It both is and isn't like dealing with her professor friend sometimes; they do about as well with her fishing.]

[Because she commanded him to keep his mouth shut, he wants to quiet even less.]

What's dumb about that? You were attacked, then grew frustrated when you lost. It's reasonable to challenge him in order to prove that you're stronger.

[Only the stars know how many times Oz has skewered Mithra to a state of near death. That hasn't stopped Mithra from going after him year after year. In fact, each loss has stoked the fire into the raging bonfire it is now.]

WEEK THREE MINGLE

ᯓ⭐ WEEK THREE MINGLE

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