Intrigue
Written by White Phoenix Erialis
I rated this PG-13 for a reason. If necessary (and I'm thinking that it might be) I will raise the rating to R, reason being some rather blatant implications of the darker side of a student's life. You have been warned. Also note that this is an AU fanfiction.
She intrigues me.
Really, she does.
They always are so extravagant in their ways. Melodramatic or overly nonchalant, or even just plain bitchy, it doesn't matter. That's what they usually do, just to get my attention. Attention that wouldn't stay on them for more than a night.
Don't know how many of them had already lost their virginity with me. Males don't have such problems. We know what we want; we know what they'll give. And that would be everything, lavished upon me. I've gone through blond bombshells to exotic and raven. My eyes alone have told countless lies, even as they gaze into sapphire orbs, mysterious black depths, soft brown eyes, wise grey ones, and the occasional dragon's eyes.
It's like the buffet that lasts a lifetime. I pick, I move on. I consume, I return. It's the truth that anyone who looks will find it. The girls never questioned, never asked, never wondered… never thought beyond the night and the pleasure they got. No matter that I have a terrible reputation. They are bees drawn to honey, weak and lacking the emotional strength and moral courage to resist.
That's the reason why she intrigues me. She's nothing like the rest of the crowd. If I were a poet, I would describe her as the living dwelling in the graveyard.If I were a painter, I would see her as the only white rose in a field of red ones. And if I were a woman… I would see her as the runt, the outcast, the one I wouldn't want to be associated with, not even in secrecy.
Not that I am any female.
She catches my attention. There is a magic around her that changes the way I think. She frees me from the chains that have bound me all my life without ever saying a word to me. Things I would have despised all seemed so right when she's the one who is the perfect example. I could hand my self-centred world over to her without any hesitation, if only she would ask.
If I still held to my past, I would call her a self-righteous moron, who believes in non-existential things. She would be as others see her to be: a freak in a corrupted world, trying hopelessly to cling onto morality and the impossibility that she could defend herself against it all. But she changes the way I see it. And now? My heart tells me that she can only be right.
They brush past her as though she is nothing. I bristle, but realise that she cannot have known about my thoughts, my reforms that are all her doing. She's probably not even aware of my existence. The smile in her eyes a moment ago had disappeared, the gentlest frown in their green-hazel smile. But there is a mask of indifference over her features…
Someone calls my name; I flinch and pull my gaze off her. The girl wrapped slender fingers about my elbow, and I fight the urge to grimace at the touch that defiles me… No, not defile. She would never think that. It would be compassion; it would be pity for someone trapped in a world that has lost all love for morality. So the urge vanishes and the smile returns.
She had a goddess' body. Golden tresses fell either down to her waist, or draped over her shoulder to be laid out in an artistic arrangement over her front. I see her very blue eyes and her wicked smile, lily fair complexion and I understand. She had wanted a chance to make amends.
How ironic for her that it would be too late.
She gives me a nickname by the next instant. She guides my step until I am leaning against the locker, but I did not forget my books, those that I held. Her eyes were not so blue that I could drown myself in them. The only eyes I will fall into must be green-hazel.
The corridor's noise had not diminished. I heard more than just her heartbeat, and mine own, beating in discordance. I heard more than her gilded words, words that had probably helped her lose her virginity already. I'm not like the woman who allows the serpent to cheat her out of a better prize.
"So… is tonight a good time for me to drop by your place?" Her coy smile has no effect on me. I would have no more part in defilement, in corruption… in their petty worlds. I know she is secretly glad for my faraway look, because it was in the general direction of her chest. She probably thinks that I am already in her grasp.
I gently pry her fingers of my elbow, and gave a most apologetic smile. It's still enough to make her heart flutter, I suppose, but the meaning would never be there. I would never consent to it again, not in the matter she intends.
I look straight ahead, and find myself mesmerized by her eyes. She was tall enough to look me in the eye, and suddenly I saw the wistfulness in her eyes. The smile that had been offered to the cheerleader was now transferred to her, but in its full charm. The words we communicated in that silent moment was more than enough to last me for the rest of my life.
She knew.
She too, looked intrigued.
Disclaimer: All characters and places mentioned/ involved in the story belong to Ms. Tamora Pierce.
A/N: Whilst I did have a heart attack when inspiration for this piece surfaced, I guess it didn't turn out quite that terrible. And whilst some of you may accuse me of adding onto the Joren/ Keladry high school pairing, this really isn't. I can safely say so, because firstly, this is written from first person POV and is not a third person narrative as you usually see, and secondly, this really is a question about morality and stuff. (I'm not digging into religious tracts, I'm not stereotyping- not too badly, at least, and I'm not pointing fingers at anyone, so!) Review if you feel like doing so, but I'm not offering cookies.
Questions You Have Asked: Time That I Replied
Q: How old/ what precise grade are the characters?
A: I will be frank. I wrote this with the intention of setting it in modern day America, but I have absolutely no idea what grade. And I can't really imagine a fixed age for the characters because people behave strangely differently in my country. But if you want a pinpoint, I would say they're somewhere between 17 and 19- which I don't know if it's in junior high or not. But the characters needed a certain maturity that I would feel absent in people I know anywhere younger than 17.