Enemies

That night, as the soft glow of the fluorescent lights flickered in the hallway, we all retreated to our respective dorms, the tiredness of the day weighing heavily on our shoulders. I waved goodbye to Valerie, who was staying two rooms away, and stood before the intricately designed door, awaiting the beep of the entry scanner. The air was thick with the faint echo of laughter from down the hall. I hoped for a peaceful night's rest to brace myself for tomorrow's history class—a Wednesday—a day I dreaded because of Mr. Roman and his intimidating stares that promised foreboding consequences for any missteps.

Entering my room, I sauntered over to my bed, dropping my bag with a thud. The sheets were inviting, but first, I craved the refreshing feel of water to wash away the remnants of the day's stress. I hurried to the bathroom, the marble floors cool beneath my feet, and splashed water on my face, feeling the tension start to dissolve.

As I stepped out, the light revealed Leah sitting on her bed, already settled in. She glanced my way, her expression a mix of exhaustion and acceptance. "Hi," she greeted, her voice barely breaking the stillness of the room.

"How was your day?" I asked softly, patting my hair dry with a fluffy towel. My matching Hello Kitty pajamas felt like a comforting hug against the troubled thoughts swirling in my mind.

"Stressful," Leah groaned, her brows arching as she scanned the space of Coco's bed. A smile crept across her lips. "Seems like someone's out late because she has a boyfriend."

"I don't think so. She said she doesn't have one... yet," I replied, with a soft smile. Leah nodded, indifferent, as she began organizing her belongings with a practiced ease.

As I moved toward my bed, the realization of dwindling funds hit me like a cold wave. I sighed internally, feeling the weight of financial troubles pressing down on my chest. I had just enough left for a few snacks, but without a means to earn more, I risked entering the middle of the semester with a heavy burden on my shoulders.

As someone studying Accounting Education and aspiring to be an accountant, I should've been adept at managing finances. Yet here I was, struggling to keep my head above water. The thought of asking Axel or Mom for money felt daunting; it seemed too soon, and I feared they would probe into my spending habits. I was determined to shoulder this burden alone, not wanting to reveal my struggles to anyone.

With a cautious glance at Leah, whose bed was lined with snacks, I hesitantly asked, "Uh... Leah, do you, by chance, need any help? Something you can't manage and would pay for?" She lifted her head, narrowing her eyes at me.

"Or do you... have anything you want to buy?" I added, my desperation evident. I would consider selling a possession if it could buy me a bit of breathing room until I felt ready to ask my family.

"Are you broke, Carol?" Leah asked, her tone direct. I nodded in response, expecting her to inquire why, but instead, she studied me intently. After a heartbeat, she hopped off her bed and approached me, tilting her head with a hint of amusement.

"And you think I'll let you work for me and pay you?" She raised an eyebrow, playfully taking hold of my phone. Suddenly, I heard a ding. She dropped the phone onto my table, and I stood there, dumbfounded.

As Leah returned to her bed, I grasped my phone and stared at the screen in disbelief. A notification revealed she had wired ten thousand to me. My heart raced; this would last me for weeks—if I didn't splurge on extravagant items like buying fancy books for others.

"Don't you need it?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"Not right now," she replied casually as if it were a trivial matter.

"I'll pay you back," I promised, relief flooding through me as I thanked her internally for being there when I needed help the most.

"Yeah, sure. Take your time," Leah said, turning towards the bathroom. Before she stepped inside, I ventured, "Uhm... I don't know if you know someone who might need assistance. I still need to earn more." She offered no response, disappearing behind the bathroom door.

I exhaled slowly, feeling a part of my worries finally untangle. I lay on my bed, the sheets cool against my skin, closing my eyes against the night. I had no other plans, and after my afternoon of reading, all I craved was sleep. I tucked my phone away in the cupboard just as the home system gently requested it, then drew the bedcover over my head, allowing the quiet of the room to envelop me, and soon drifted off into a much-needed slumber.

The dragon clan was engulfed in a tumultuous war—fire-breathing dragons clashed fiercely with their ice counterparts, each one burning with an insatiable desire for power to dominate the clan. Meanwhile, the shadow dragons, air dragons, and sea serpents lurked in the wings, awaiting the rise of a singular ruler to lead them.

As I lay deep in slumber, my dreams morphed into a vivid nightmare, unraveling a brutal battle between two fierce titans I wished to avoid. Flames roared like a tempest, drenching the landscape in heat, while icy gusts swept in, dousing the fires but neither side yielded. Their ferocity echoed through the night, a testament to their undying resolve to conquer and reign supreme over the world.

Amidst the chaos, something caught my eye—a white cloak flowing gracefully on the ground, glistening like diamonds under the moon's silvery glow. I was drawn to it, my gaze traveling upward to uncover the figure of a young woman. She stood with her back to me, her silver hair shimmering in the luminous light. Crowned with a delicate tiara adorned with countless diamonds, she embodied a purity that felt both enchanting and haunting.

As if stirred by an intense gaze, the figure turned in my direction, yet their features remained elusive, cloaked in a blinding silver light that washed over everything like molten steel. I squinted, desperately attempting to pierce through the brilliance, but when I managed to blink my eyes open again, morning sunlight streamed through my dorm window, illuminating the familiar clutter of my surroundings. A wave of relief washed over me, but a nagging thought persisted: why did everything feel so disconcerting? My reality felt like a twisted dream, punctuated by bizarre visions of bizarre creatures that haunted my thoughts. I didn't even indulge in fantasy films—so why was my mind plagued by such vivid nightmares?

It wasn't 6 in the morning as I had woken up quite early for the history class I was asked to be always one hour ahead. Without wasting time, I quickly took my bath and dressed in a black jorts and green long sleeved top, I pulled my hair into a ponytail before rushing out of the dorm after packing my bag.

****

The clock on the wall ticked steadily toward 9 AM, and Mr. Roman was still nowhere to be found. Curiosity gnawed at me—this was the first time he'd been late. I checked my watch again, anxiety creeping in as I remembered I needed to submit the assignment Mrs. Hunter had assigned. I had worked on it yesterday with Valerie and Coco, and it felt crucial to get it in on time.

After waiting a bit longer with no sign of Mr. Roman, I made a split-second decision. I dashed out of the classroom to hand in my work, my heart racing with the urgency of the moment. Once I finished with Mrs. Hunter, I returned to class just as Mr. Roman started his lecture.

As I stepped into the room, his eyes met mine for a brief moment before he quickly looked away, as if my presence had displeased him. I settled into my seat, grabbing my notebook, to take in notes.

After history class, Mr. Roman handed out a classwork assignment due in thirty minutes. As he exited, clad in gray sweatpants and a white hoodie, he looked surprisingly less intimidating—almost… hot? The casual attire tugged at the fantasies of some of my classmates, who were practically swooning over him. They had completely forgotten he was just an assistant teacher, daydreaming about being his girlfriend. I rolled my eyes internally—why on earth would they think about their teacher like that?

The classroom buzzed with chaos as students exchanged assignments, some working diligently while others lazily copied from their friends. I eventually gathered the completed classwork and made my way to his office for submission.

I knocked at the door, waiting for a signal before entering. Mr. Roman sat behind a sleek desk, focused on his laptop. When his gaze finally met mine, he simply said, "Arrange them on the shelf." With that, he returned to his work, and I made my way to the dark brown shelves.

Noticing that both the top and bottom were empty, I hesitated, glancing back at him. He seemed lost in thought, a frown creeping onto his face. I quickly turned away, settling for the downward part of the shelf to avoid extra work.

Once I finished, I turned to him. "I'll take my leave," I said softly. He looked up, his fingers pausing above the keys, and his expression unreadable.

"You were supposed to arrange them at the top," he replied, his tone sharp.

Confusion mingled with irritation as I frowned at him—he must have seen me crouching earlier. But I held my tongue, crouching again to rectify the mistake and arrange the books on the top shelf.

Halfway through, I heard his voice again, cutting through my concentration. "Bring them here."

I closed my eyes. Fury bubbled beneath my skin as I clenched my teeth, gripping the books tightly. With a flourish of annoyance, I gathered them and slammed them onto his desk unconsciously.

His brow shot up questioningly before I quickly returned to gather the remaining books.

As I approached his desk yet again, a question that had been nagging at me slipped out. "Have you ever been to the detention center?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shot me a piercing glare, his authoritative tone slicing through the room. "Now, is that how you address me? Like we're friends or something?"

I swallowed hard. Why was he reacting this way? All I did was ask a question. I really wondered what had happened to make him this way—he was always brooding and harsh. Did he even have siblings? No wonder he seemed perpetually alone.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Roman," I stammered, feeling the weight of his gaze. His attention returned to the laptop as he pushed it aside and reached for the stack of books.

"Have you ever been to the detention center?" I asked again, rephrasing the statement, hoping the formal address would soften his demeanor.

With a flick of his pen, he scrawled a question mark on one of the books before tossing it aside. "I don't seek trouble like you," he said, moving on to the next book.

"What happened there?" He eventually asked after a moment of silence.

I leaned in closer, "Dragons. They were there, and they were real," I whispered, captivated by the memory. "They cast terror upon us, breathing fire... You should have seen it!"

"I don't believe in such," Roman countered sharply, his voice slicing through the air like a chill autumn breeze. He wielded the tip of his pen, pushing her head away as if her very presence repulsed him. "You're lingering too much here; get out," he commanded, his tone as cold and unyielding as a block of ice, sending involuntary shivers spiraling down her spine.

He noted the flicker of disgust that flashed across her eyes, a brief window into the turmoil beneath her façade. She recoiled slightly, and for a moment, an unspoken tension hung thick between them, crackling like static. Quickly, she masked her true feelings with a forced smile, a brittle mask that barely concealed the underlying strain.

As she turned to leave, she wiped her forehead, as if trying to erase the sensation of his pen having brushed against her skin. The door swung closed with a resounding slam, reverberating through the silence of the office, declaring an unspoken truce in their ongoing battle.

Good, he thought. They were enemies, and that was just the way it should be.