Collateral Damage

It was a tranquil quarter of an hour spent holding ice against her bruise. Rose's face flushed as she remembered whose hand it was holding the ice pack. She took a peak at the two lovely crescents Hugh's eyes formed, mouth opening slightly at the realization that he was still smiling at her.

He was utterly entertained by her timid behavior. The girl was otherwise shameless, mouth babbling on and on without a hint of a filter nearby.

Hugh remembered when they first met. He let Ambrosia go under the excuse that she was a new student, she couldn't have possibly grasped all the school's rules in under one day. But truthfully, he walked out of the nurse's office laughing, dumbfounded by how casually she had spoken to him, completely convinced that calling him "bro" would sway him to let the situation slide. She wasn't wrong, however, because he only left her and her sidekick a warning, a threat subtly laced in his words.

He was sure only the junior caught on to it.

At that time, he was fully convinced that Ambrosia and the alleged genius were up to no good, something scandalous.

Hugh felt a bitter taste in his mouth when he thought that they were doing it on school grounds like a bunch of brutes.

But as time flew by, he came to realize her true intentions with him and her purely platonic relationship with the infamous Terrance Hunton. He used to be threatened by the young heir. His skill and status were no joke, but after seeing him desperately trail after Hugh's classmate like a lost chick, all his worries were quick to leave his chest.

Terrance looked so taken by the girl who'd been doing all of Hugh's dirty work for his approval, it was pitiful.

The scholar didn't know who was more oblivious, the comical girl or the young prodigy. Not that it mattered, anyway, he had more pressing matters to be concerned about.

"Did you get what I instructed you to?" The scholar asked, arm starting to numb from holding Rose's ice pack for so long.

She responded to him with gleaming enthusiasm, nodding without words. The girl seemed to be a bit dazed because instead of elaborating, she just continued to stare at where Hugh's hand met her face.

"So?" He brought up, a bit agitated by her inability to grasp the situation. "What did you find out?"

"Oh! S– sorry, I was distracted by your face." She confessed without a hint of hesitation, and although she jumped and apologized with a squeak in her voice, flustered and embarrassed, she didn't seem to be truly remorseful.

His heart leaped from the flattery of her words. Even Hugh was taken aback by her honesty at times, but he was quick to hide his astonishment with feigned amusement.

"No, I'm flattered. But I believe we were on the subject of the recent information I asked you to obtain."

"Oh, yes!" She beamed, tapping a finger against her chin as she looked up in thought. "Well, from what I heard, they recruit their members by sending out physical letters discreetly. A bit old school, but it's in character for them to maintain bullshit traditions."

"Traditions, huh? As I thought, this whole situation had to be connected to heritage, somehow." Hugh commented, though mostly to himself.

Stubborn as she was about earning his approval, Ambrosia still joined in on the conversation, voicing out her thoughts on the matter. "Obviously, what other foundation do they have? With how incompetent people are nowadays, it'd be impossible for them to pull this off on a whim."

The scholar looked to be taking her words into consideration, hand smoothly placing down the ice pack he had been holding until then. The bruise had been entirely forgotten, just a passing thought in the bigger picture. A picture they technically weren't a part of.

Rose couldn't help but be curious why they were involving themselves, well, more like why Hugh Windsor, the seemingly unproblematic Vice President of the Student Council, was involving himself in such things.

"Since you got information from me, can I ask you something too?"

She watched the way his eyebrows shot up ever so slightly as if he hadn't expected to be torn away from his deep contemplation. The scholar must have had to be a truly respected man if he was used to having the luxury of silence. "That wasn't the deal, but sure."

She threw her head back, watching the way the ceiling fan inside the clinic spun endlessly. It was almost a warm scene, a wholesome moment shared on a summer day. Had it not been for the unusual relationship they shared, she was sure they could've had many days like this. Or they would have no days together at all.

Which was why she couldn't risk it. She'd take strange over nothing, especially when it came to Hugh Windsor. After all, he too was a peculiar one—in some ways, the opposite of her, but in some, exactly the same.

"What are your motivations?" She asked, face still directed upward. Her sweat slithered down from her chin to her neck and into her shirt, Hugh looked away to show some consideration.

"That question can be answered in many different ways. You have to be more specific if you want to get the answer you're looking for."

For the first time since knowing the girl, he seemed to have shut her up successfully. Ambrosia remained unmoving, silent, thinking. Then she shot up from where she had been sitting, face now inches away from Hugh.

It was invasive, but somehow felt calculated. Like she was childishly throwing erasers at him to get his attention.

"You're usually one to satisfy your morbid curiosities, aren't you? That's why you tolerate me!" She exclaimed, fangs presented in a toothy smile. The girl radiated the joy of someone who wasn't oblivious, as if she hadn't just exposed the shallowness of their bond just moments before. "But this doesn't seem to stop at curiosity, I've never seen you so passionate about something."

"I'm passionate about a lot of things. You're just saying that because you don't know me very well."

She looked surprised by his answer, mouth hanging open in the warm air of the clinic. "You're right, but it can't be helped. All humans eat, don't they? And after they do, they shit and eat again. Even though you're really handsome, I don't doubt that you do too. Unless you're an alien which is also possible."

Her pointer finger met with his nose bridge, sharp fangs visible under the gleam of daylight as she spoke. "You're human too. I might not know you deeply, but I know what kind of human you are, I know what is that you consume."

He hummed, moving away from the touch of her finger. He didn't expect the day to be so exciting, but it was a pleasant change, his lips straining to hide his smile.

The implications of her words were a bit threatening. It was as if the girl could read the implications behind his every movement or at the very least, had a record for what his actions meant. He reckoned that the watching eyes he always felt on himself had something to do with her.

So he probed. "Tell me, then. What kind of human am I?"

Rose grabbed the pillow closest to her, wrapping her arms around the soft material, as if squeezing it out if its case would give her answers. She looked like she was thinking, but he knew better. She already had her answer from the beginning.

She was just toying with him.

He found it a bit frustrating how much she did it.

"I think you're like Justice Bringer." She answered, letting go of the pillow and placing it on the head of the bed. She plopped down on it soon after, legs cozily curled around each other.

It amused Hugh how casual she was in front of him despite knowing that he knew of her infatuation. Usually, he was a figure to be respected, to be worshipped.

He felt like she was doing both and none at the same time.

"The superhero from that cartoon?" He questioned, although he knew of no other Justice Bringer.

"Mhmm. Even Justice Bringer didn't start off as a hero at the beginning of the show. He was just an ordinary man until he experienced injustice for himself. Say you want to protect the students all you like, but I'm pretty sure a part of you has a personal grudge against them too."

He smiled, unsure if he was irked or pleased by her words. Either way, he realized that the best way to approach the situation was to bare his truth.

"I'm intimidated by you, you know. You look into my eyes and you act as if you see my soul. Meanwhile, I look into yours and I wonder if I'm seeing the real color or just an illusion of light." He admitted rather wearily, already questioning his sanity as he stared through the wall of the room.

She stood. Again, disregarding personal boundaries to get up and close Hugh's face. At that point, he just let it happen.

"Why would you be intimidated by me? I'm ready to do anything for you."

He felt cold sweat drip from his head. He wanted to pull away, unsettled, but he knew he needed the girl if he wanted to achieve his goals. Truly a dilemma.

"Is that so?" He mumbled, words intangible, much too quiet for the human ear. He stood from his seat, effectively causing Ambrosia to back off. "In that case, why don't we head back to class? I don't like missing lessons, as you probably already know."

The last of his words had been a taunt, a way of telling her that he had his suspicions, but was eager to milk the opportunity—particularly her connections and unlimited resources—anyway.

Instead of being offended, Ambrosia found contentment in their arrangement. If he wanted to use her, that'd be fine. Only when she proved to be useful to him would she be worthy, after all.

So despite the lingering awkwardness of the scene, she only grinned. "Okay!"