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I didn't know how long I'd slept, but I knew one thing for sure:
the bells of Mordsith Academy were not only loud - they were violent.
They barged into my like tax collectors, dragging me out of the blissful nothingness I'd fallen into. I jerked upright, breathing like someone who'd just run from a demon. For a second, I honestly thought the apocalypse had come early.
dreams
Then I realized.
It was just the school bells.
Stupid things.
I blinked around the room, still half-asleep. My suitcases sat accusingly at the foot of my bed like they were disappointed in me for ignoring them. And from the bathroom - five feet away - came the sound of running water.
Great. My mysterious roommate was bathing.
Good for him.
Maybe that meant I had time to handle my life.
I kicked off my shoes and peeled off my socks, dropping them somewhere on the floor. Yes, I know that was messy - but this was my side. I'd clean it later... probably. Maybe. No promises.
Dragging a deep breath, I unzipped my suitcase.
And froze.
"...Mom. What the hell."
The bag was packed like I was migrating to another continent to start a family, build a house, and retire.
"These... are four dozen hangers," I muttered, pulling out hanger after hanger. "WHY."
And the clothes?
Folded like they were in a boutique.
Arranged by color.
Perfumed.
If Mom wanted to send me to school looking like a neat freak, she had failed, because we all knew the closet would look like a battlefield in two days.
I carried the hangers to the wardrobe, opened it-
-and dust flew out like it had been waiting centuries to attack me.
I coughed aggressively.
"Of course. The legendary 'No Roommate Ever' wardrobe."
I used my poor sock to clean it out, then tossed the now-suffering sock somewhere near my shoe. Farewell, soldier.
One by one, I unpacked everything.
Shirts.
Pants.
Folded clothes.
My bed sheets - all shades of blue, naturally.
I picked the navy set for tonight. It matched my soul - tired but trying.
The second suitcase held the essentials: my tote bags, shoes, towels, bucket hats (yes, the important things in life), soaps, cream, brushes, and a terrifying amount of toiletries Mom swore I needed.
Spoiler: I didn't.
I put aside only what I used - lotion, face cream, deodorant, roll-on, Vaseline. The rest? They could stay in the bag and peacefully expire.
After arranging my cosmetics, stationaries, and tossing the bags on top of the wardrobe (with the precision of someone done with life), I turned to my bed.
Unmade.
Depressing.
Judging me.
But the bucket hats needed space first. I stacked them into a tall tower - fifteen layers of pure fashion excellence - and tucked them in a corner.
Finally, I was ready.
Or so I thought.
Because that was exactly when the bathroom door opened.
And silence fell.
My brain shut down.
Because stepping out of the steam was someone who looked like he had been handcrafted by an ancient deity just to mock the rest of us.
Black hair.
Obsidian-black eyes.
Perfect brows.
Sharp jawline.
A nose sculpted by fate itself.
He wasn't just handsome.
He was dangerous.
Like "you need a moment to breathe" handsome.
Unfortunately, the first expression he gave me was pure irritation.
Wow. Love at first sight? No. Pain at first sight.
I cleared my throat, trying to salvage my dignity.
"Good evening," I said, trying to sound mature. "I'm Priest White, a freshman. Your new roommate in Blackwood House."
He didn't respond. Not a word.
He just walked to his bed, hung his towel, then sat down like I didn't exist.
Rude.
Majestic, but rude.
And then it hit me.
I knew him.
The 6As honor student.
The top scholar of the entire school.
Noir Michaelis.
Standing here, existing, being beautiful, and ignoring me.
I swallowed my pride - and my rising annoyance - and turned back to my lost sock. I searched until I found it, shoved both socks in my shoe, grabbed my towel, and marched to the wardrobe to pick my pajamas.
Then - with absolutely no shame - I put on my purple kitten pajama set.
Yes, with the giant kitten face.
Yes, with the paw prints on the back.
If Noir didn't like it, too bad.
This was me.
I wore my blue-and-white flip-flops to the bathroom, took a warm bath, and stepped out with damp hair falling into my eyes. I didn't bother fixing it. Not like anyone here would compliment me.
When I came out, Noir was sitting on his bed, rolling a pencil between his fingers. His long hair - way longer than I expected - was tied loosely, some strands falling in front of his face, covering one eye.
He looked annoyingly perfect.
I cleared my throat.
"Um... senior Noir? Could you at least say something?"
My voice sounded embarrassing. Like a shy girl confessing. I wanted to slap myself.
He didn't look up.
Just said in the coldest, smoothest voice I'd ever heard:
"What do you want me to say?"
I forgot how to breathe.
That voice... That voice could talk you into committing crimes.
No wonder the whole school worshipped him.
But interior-wise?
No.
He was a disaster.
Cold.
Unfriendly.
Frostbite in human form.
I gathered myself. "Isn't it time for dinner?"
He finally looked at the window.
"Seems so. We're ten minutes late."
I jumped. "Are we in trouble??"
He stood, walking toward the door.
"Not really. There are no rules in Blackwood anyway."
The way he said it made me think he'd personally broken all of them if they did exist.
I hurried after him.
"U-um, what about the prefect?"
He didn't turn.
"Right in front of you, to avoid further questions, the Fifth and sixth years move to the dean's wing. You won't see them."
"Oh."
"So what about the house master?"
"You'll see him soon."
And that was the end of the conversation.
He clearly wanted silence.
Fine.
Two can play that game.
We walked to the same building I saw earlier - turns out it really was the cafeteria.
Inside was pure pandemonium.
Noise.
Shouting.
Laughing.
Food being thrown somewhere in the back.
Noir walked off immediately.
I stood alone like a lost puppy until a deep voice behind me spoke.
"Freshman, huh?"
I turned - startled - and froze again.
Because the man smiling at me was... honestly incredibly handsome for someone who looked forty. Sharp face. Warm eyes. A hint of mischief.
The aura?
House Master.
And next to him - the prefect.
Blackwood House really had a thing for beautiful men. Not that I was complaining.
"Y-yes," I managed. "I'm Priest. Priest White."
He grinned.
"Sit anywhere."
"In this chaos?" I blurted.
He laughed. "Boy, this is Blackwood. There are no rules. This house is home."
A chaotic home, apparently.
He shoved me toward a table and walked off, leaving me to experience the dinner madness firsthand.
We ate in absolute disorder.
Honestly, it was fun.
When I finished, I slipped out quickly and headed back to the dorms.
But...
The door was locked.
Of course.
I checked my wrist - no band.
I knocked.
No response.
I sighed, stepped back, and prepared to break the door down because, frankly, this place was old and I was tired.
I was halfway through launching myself at it when Noir's voice came from behind me:
"What are you doing."
I paused mid-attack.
"Trying to open the door. This place is ancient, so it won't matter if it breaks."
He approached, looking one second away from rubbing his temples in frustration.
"No one is breaking any doors," he said flatly.
He touched the band to the knob.
Door opened.
I walked in, jumped onto my bed with my flip-flops still on, and pulled the blanket over myself.
Noir stared at me like I had just committed a war crime.
I ignored him.
Sleep dragged me under instantly.
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