Merci_Douglas

"My sweetest little treasure, don't be naive, you are either damned or dead in here, so now be good and scream your loudest for me."

Persephone [Psyche] Charming found herself sent away into a strange highschool for troubled teenagers after commiting a crime worthy of hell back home.

Soon enough the Witch began to realize these troubled teenagers were more dangerous than the worst of criminals. Especially the Crescent brothers who were more monstrous than animals.

 °°°

"No, whatever you're gonna say, no, not now, not ever. Also get out of my room you psychopath, you'll get blood all over my sheets…. Why is there blood all over you?" She could no longer control her urge and asked.

He really looked like a mess. So much blood that Persephone felt it was his. His face had a tear, and his hair was just…. Well that hair was always looking messy.

At her words that smirk died. Replaced with a lost look. "Hm, you're being nosy." He said, coolly.

"....." Persephone deadpanned. "You broke into my ROOM." She couldn't help the incredulity that filled her voice as she said those words.

The reddish eyelashes fluttered, and then slowly but surely the eyes were opened. It was worse than expected. His red eyes were bloodshot, hurt, so many emotions going in a long and horrible roller coaster.

 Persephone always thought Caspian was a straightforward person. Everytime she met him, he would always say or do whatever came to his mind. He looked like he was mad at everything whenever he was around, because he couldn't be bothered to hide his emotions. This kind of open person, when they were hurt, it was too obvious for the world to see.

Persephone's throat bobbed as she swallowed. She didn't know why she was aggrieved by the hurt in his eyes. Anytime they crossed parts one way or the other Caspian always threatened her. Seeing the cool smirk on his face all those times, Persephone hoped it would be knocked off his face, but literally seeing that arrogant look away from his face, Persephone's heart was pumping really fast.

This time she couldn't control her brain from allowing her hand to reach out towards Caspian, her fingers sinking into the mop of hair for the first time. Despite the unsettlement she felt at his hurt, she couldn't help the wave of satisfaction and the tremors of shudders that traced up her spine as her fingers sank into his hair.

It was so silky, as she imagined it would be, so soft, it would entice anyone to keep touching. She has fallen down the rabbit hole so it couldn't be helped as she combed her fingers through his hair softly, her skin enjoying the tickling and electric feeling of petting his hair.

She stiffened when she heard his sigh. It was actually not a sigh…. If she heard it correctly it was a moan, a soft and gentle moan. Persephone felt something thick had obscured her throat from swallowing as she heard the sinfully soft moan.

She peeked away from the hair to his face. His eyebrows dipped into a furrow but the curve and contort of his features couldn't be misunderstood….. This was a look of satisfaction.

"What happened to you?" She sounded like she had choked out the words.

The reply was a bit late but it came. "I shouldn't have come here."

Seeing the way she was petting his hair, enjoying every minute of it, enjoying him enjoying every minute of it, she indeed concurred that he should not have come to her.

But she said, "But you did."

A hand descended on the back of her head. "Yeah, I did."

[Mature Content]
[Slow burn]

Witches Vs Werewolves

Third person point of view

She'd never known hate.

The dark and twisted emotion tended to eat the bearer slowly until there was nothing left. Hate was intense, overwhelming when not fashioned with restraint, and reasoning. But then again hate didn't have any reasons.

When there was hate, other emotions were dead. The hate chews on them and spit them out.

There wasn't much difference between hate and love. Of course she didn't know that. She wasn't created to.

Purple hair so dark that it seemed almost like darkness had been flushed down her round shaped face, until the sun had highlighted on it that the true fire of her hair gleamed.

It was curly but definitely not unruly, and styled a fringe that flashed down to her chest.

Chapter 72