Love or War

His opened bedroom door should've been the first warning. The fact that he was uninformed of anybody's arrival was the second. But of course, Terrance was a fool falling into a deep-seated obsession. There was no time to think when it came to Ambrosia.

He sensed no danger, not when her smell invaded more than just his nostrils. The entirety of his mind combusted once he spotted a familiar figure lazing around on his bed. She turned to him and her smile was sickeningly sweet.

"Where have you been? You don't usually go home this late."

She forgot to mention the part where they didn't head home together from school. Most of the time, Ambrosia had her driver drive both of them, but Terrance was quick to message her an excuse after accepting Hugh's offer.

If it meant accompanying a literal child for a few hours while his uncle and probably the person Terrance hated the most for Rose to go all the way to his house and seek him out herself then the prodigy deemed the exhaustion worth it. His body was rejuvenated as quickly as it was drained.

"...I was out with friends."

"Oh? Your classmates?"

Terrance could only nod, only then sensing the slight hostility in Rose's voice. Ambrosia's eyes were wide in enthusiasm, too wide, as if she was consciously refusing to blink.

"Yeah..." He responded, carefully walking towards Rose as he let a mix of excitement and anxiety overcome his chest. He didn't expect his senior to bring his classmates up, as they'd only spent a single lunch together. The prodigy could barely remember their names, but he thought it'd make a decent excuse. "My classmates."

There was no way he was telling her about Henry.

"That's good! I'm glad you're socializing with more people now. Come here." Ambrosia's smile was tight-lipped. He could notice that much. He didn't know what caused the tense mood, but he couldn't quite ponder on it when she spread her arms. An invitation.

He happily accepted it, letting her warmth erase all the negative things from his mind. Summer was still approaching for everyone else, but for Terrance, it had already arrived. He was hit with the ocean's cool breeze and the sun's intense heat the moment Rose took him in her embrace. "I missed you." She mumbled against his shoulder.

Then he felt a sharpness on his back. Before he could properly react, he was already pushed down on his bed, Ambrosia's body trapping his, and a knife levitating directly above his neck.

"Now why don't you tell me where you really were, Terr?"

His heart raced and he was unsure whether it was because he felt exactly where Ambrosia was sitting or because there was a weapon threatening to slice his throat open. Something about the situation was, strangely enough, exhilarating.

"W— what do you mean?" He gulped, unable to formulate a better response. After all, he was put on the spot, a rather intimate spot that had electricity shooting down his spine.

"Don't play fool with me. Hugh messaged me saying he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore and it you were coincidentally gone the entire afternoon. Tell me where the fuck you've been."

He didn't miss the way tears slid down her cheek. He couldn't focus on anything else, not when they dripped directly on his cheek. Terrance wanted to wipe them off, kiss them away. He wanted to cradle her in his arms, but he couldn't. Not yet. Not when she had a knife against his neck and the intent to kill in her eyes.

"I..." He considered lying again. But he sensed the vulnerability in her voice. She was venting to him as much as she was threatening him. A really fucked up situation, but he was hoping their friendship was enough reason not to have him dead and the entire situation was just an impulsive moment brought upon by overwhelming emotion. "I made a deal with Hugh."

"What the fuck did you tell him?"

Deja Vu filled Terrance's mind as he felt the cold steel press harder against his skin. They'd been in a similar situation before. How could he forget?

However, this time, there was no hint of playfulness in her words, not a clue on whether she was bluffing when it came to actually using the knife on him. She was crying, and he was the reason.

This was what he feared. Terrance never wanted to be the reason she was brought to tears.

But he couldn't live as just another spectator in her story. He needed to reach out and establish himself as a threat to her feelings for Hugh. Assert himself.

"I made him promise to leave you alone if I did him a favor."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Her hands were trembling, unsteady as she sat on top of Terrance.

"Because I don't want you to be his."

She flinched back, away from his body. The distress on her face made way for stupefaction. "What are you on about?"

"No. You don't get to play fool with me, senior." Sensing his chance, he jolted upwards, immediately gripping her hands, and chucking the knife at the wall on the other side of the room.

"Let me go—!" The girl struggled against his grip, but he didn't relent, careful not to hurt her as he tried his best to calm her down.

They stared at each other, breathless. The fight in Ambrosia dissipated, the realization that she had no chance against Terrance when it came to physical confrontation sinking in. There were no feelings of fear that came up, however. Instead, Ambrosia was calm, comfortable even, as she panted on his lap.

"Senior."

"Terrance." She replied with a whisper, his name a desperate prayer on her lips. Neither of them understood what she was asking for.

"I like you." He finally let out, the weight of all his months of pining melting into the ruffled sheets beneath their bodies. "I know you have feelings for me too. Even if they're just an inkling, they're there."

"That's wrong. You're wrong. You're just my junior." She stated, firm. But he knew her, he heard how her voice wavered before masking it with her unrelenting devotion to the academy's scholar. It was a split second. A mistake on her part.

But it made the difference. It gave him the courage to push against his fear of losing her.

It was time he asserted himself.

"You're lying." He moved his hands towards her waist, testing the waters. She didn't flinch back, she didn't look bothered, just stunned. In fact, the flush on Ambrosia's face deepened. He had assumed it was from breathlessness, but now...

"You're telling me you haven't seen me as a man even once?"

She couldn't answer him, her heart stuck in her throat. She could barely let out a huff of air as he felt his breath on her face.

"I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking. You could've sliced me open that night and gotten it over with, but you didn't. I thought my eyes were playing games with me, but I knew there had to be some credibility in my suspicions when you stared into the camera I planted in your room for hours. You knew they were there, didn't you? You let me keep all the things I took because you wanted me to have them, didn't you?"

He was asserting himself for the very first time—there was no way he was holding back. Not when the shock on her face looked absolutely delicious, like a puppy who had gotten caught snacking on treats it shouldn't have.

He observed the shift in her face, his eyes keenly absorbing every single detail that he possibly could. Every breath. Every blink. Every flick of her eye as he looked to his lips, his hands, his eyes. Lovely browns met cold gray.

"Ha. I was right. You do like playing games with me. Do you even hear the things you tell me? Others have started thinking that we're together."

"I love Hugh." There was sincerity in her voice, but the argument came off pathetic. Even Ambrosia could tell, from the way she scrunched up her face after the words left her mouth. It was true. She loved Hugh. But she wasn't disproving Terrance.

"He's using you." He retorted, realizing that Hugh Windsor was her only defense against his accusations. She'd hold on to her feelings for Hugh to deny her feelings for him for as long as she could, Terrance realized. "But then again, you like using me too, don't you?"

Her eyes widened, and he could practically taste her words of disagreement before she could say anything.

"I don't care." He beat her to it. "I'm yours."

"I'm yours to toy with. I'm yours to throw around. I'm yours, body, heart, and mind. You're having fun, so what's wrong with telling me you own me, huh?" He guided her hands to his neck. It wasn't quite as exciting with the knife, but he felt the blood in his veins rush when he squeezed around her fingers, halting his air's passageway.

"I'm yours." He repeated.

They stared at each other, drunk on the new revelation.

He felt her fingers squeeze around his neck. "Terrance Hunton."

"Yes?" He answered, obedient, eager. This was where he belonged, wrapped around her fingertips, needing her permission to even breathe. His angel. No. His goddess. His owner.

"I'm not giving up Hugh Windsor. He's going to be mine." For a moment, his resolve was shattered. His fantasy and hope going down the drain. But then he felt her smirk against his cheek. It felt evil, and he so badly wanted to see it, to quake in fear because of it. He wanted to be on the receiving end of her wrath, her schemes, her worst—he wanted to be hers. "But you're right, you are fun."

Their eyes met once again, but instead of shying away, Ambrosia stared back at him with the heat of hellfire. "So you better not give up either. Or I'll kill you for real."

She stood from her seat on his lap. Her throne, he wanted to call it. He knew Ambrosia would've agreed. She grabbed her blazer, discarded on his desk, and her bag on his table. "I hope you know what kind of trouble you're getting into confessing to me like that, Terr. Don't blame me when you're coming out of this with nothing but scars."

Then Terrance was alone in his room again, anticipation causing the prodigy to bite his lips until crimson painted his sheets.

The red was mesmerizing. And it was all for her.