Antoinette waved off her friends, cautiously counting her steps towards me as she privately isolates me at the end of the hall. I watch her emotions suddenly disintegrate, the sadness completely gone. It's replaced only with stern disinterest.
"So? What's your choice?" Her hands grip on her hips as she stares down at me with immense displeasure. I fumble with my fingers, looking up at her and furrowing my brows.
"I-if it really means that much to you, I'll try to help. It is just for a few weeks, right?" I try and smile, as I watch her thin lips smile back, nodding rather pleasantly.
"Of course, and once those weeks are up, it'll all go back to normal. You and Fakir can have whatever little fling you have, and my heart will be fixed." She hugs me closely, in those big warm bear-like arms. I hug her back and she looks at me, her eyes narrow and her body language authoritarian.
"The first thing I want you to do is hang out with me at six. Plain and easy. I'll be at the gazebo," She chimes before running off to her regular group of friends, and I hear her sadness immediately re-enter her distraught tone. I go back to my dorm, realizing I have only about thirty minutes left. I quickly change into my casual clothes, which just consist of soft orange shorts, and a white turtleneck. Walking out this late leads to no strange looks, surprisingly. The sun hasn't begun to set, but the purple fading into the sky makes me smile for some reason. Something about the moon coming out makes me giggle. It's like a sweet dream, urging me along. It seems all my bird friends are asleep in their trees. Not a single peep from any of them as I pass by.
I notice Antoinette sitting idly with some of her friends. I smile as I wave at her, though as soon as we catch eyes, she nods at me, motioning me to sit over with them. I nod back and rush over, sitting amongst her and the other women who I had never met before. They all looked extremely mature but equally different; full breasts, wider hips, all varying heights, weights, hair colors, and races. They didn't look familiar at all, but maybe they're her friends from the outside?
"Ladies, meet Ahiru. Ahiru, ladies." Antoinette motions towards us both. I smile and wave at them. There's something off about most of them, but I don't really know what it is. I sit amongst them, listening to them start chatting about something, but it's almost like an amalgamation of too many minor conversations. I can't really understand anything from any one person, until one of the women, she looked about twenty-four with wavy blonde hair, sun kissed skin, and gentle green eyes, smiles kindly at me, finally asking me.
"When was the last time you had any? Nettie said you have a little boyfriend who gives it to you." I don't really know what she means, so I shrug confusedly instead.
"I'm sorry, I don't really know what you're talking about. I haven't received anything recently, and I don't have a boyfriend." The woman just giggles a moment, before clarifying her statement.
"Sex, sweetheart. Do you just play around, or are you exclusive with one person?" Her tone is surprisingly cheery despite talking about something so private. I quickly throw my hands up shaking my head and blushing.
"O-oh god no! I don't have sex! I haven't even seen someone else naked before!" I watch as nearly everyone looks at me with utter shock, almost horror, my voice having been much louder than I expected. Even Antoinette perks up, practically glaring me down. The women start giggling at me, and I get even redder than I already was. My brain is fuzzy as Antoinette just huffs at me.
"Oh, so you're just a pure little virgin, aren't you? Want a medal?" Her voice is condescending and brusque. The older girl smiles and strokes my hair, waving off Antoinette's comments.
"She's just waiting for it. She probably hasn't even gotten kissed either." Though after this uncomfortable interaction, everyone continues talking about sex, and coincidentally ignoring me, until I hear the clock chime at nine. I stand and smile at the girls, bidding them good night. Antoinette starts off towards the dorms with me smiling and laughing, asking me why I didn't tell her I was a virgin.
"I-I was scared, I froze. I'm sorry, should I have?" She looks down at me and shrugs at my comment. She's more laid back now, less volatile. I guess it was just her high emotional state earlier, and it seems she's completely over it at this point.
"I guess I was a bit scary. But you need to understand where I'm coming from. I thought you were sleeping with my prince. Someone I know you dislike greatly. Someone I've idolized since we started classes in grade four." Her voice sounds more kind and friendly. Her dreamy voice sings about Fakir far more than I ever have. I smile, but something tugs in my throat that makes my stomach hurt, a sick and twisting feeling that almost yanks me in one direction. Something about her saying Fakir was her prince makes me feel anxious.
"I understand, but it's all just a really big misunderstanding. Fakir has been letting me stay in the teachers dorm for a while for my own safety since a lot of things have been happening." I laugh nervously as we finally make it to our dorm, seperating into our own floors, as she smirks.
"Oh trust me, the only danger you're in now is with my ladies." I stand, staring down at her in silence, before she begins laughing. "I'm just pulling your leg, Duck. They don't bite. Good night." She slips into the lower level, and I ascend up the stairs to my own dorm. I change into my nightgown and lay in my bed. My entire life seems to revolve around these strange dreams I have. Something about them makes me feel strange, the fact they revolve so heavily around Fakir and me dancing, or worse. I curl up under my blankets, begging not to dream about anything. Not to think about Fakir undressing me, or kissing below my face.
Though this leads to fantasizing about certain things. About that kiss between us. Thinking about what if it went further. What if his hands went further under my unitard? I feel my hand creepingly tug under my underwear. I slip my fingers against my little sweet spot, starting to rub it ever so gently. I turn onto my stomach as I fantasize further.
His hands cupping my breast as he kisses them very gently, kissing my neck softer than anything I've ever felt. His hand rubbed the lips of my crotch as he pulled aside my tight uniform. A finger rubbing against my clit as I quiver under him. I let a weak moan out into my pillow, pretending to hear him speak to me.
"You're a sweet girl, Ahiru," He would say to me. "You're so beautiful, and kind. Trust me, you're almost there," His voice is sleek and soft, as I whimper even more. I quiver even more, his fingers getting faster against me, before I feel the release. Cumming hard as I whimper his name loudly into my pillow, hoping it's muffled, I sigh peacefully into my pillow. I imagine Fakir laying next to me and kissing my forehead. But now I realize exactly what I have done. I groan in regret, knowing just what Anty told me. Anty had told me all that, and I just masturbated to the person she wanted to be with more than anything. I don't know what kind of person I could be, doing something that shameful. It felt so good in the moment, but I can't feel good now. I still am conflicted over how I feel about Fakir even.
Though his lips still linger against mine, I try and rub away the softness of his lips, trying to get the gentleness of him off of me. In the process, I feel a flash of something. That twinge in my gut, remembering Wayland touching me. Victor holding me. Their volatile hands cupping parts of me I didn't want to be touched. I wish I could erase their hands, from my body. Somehow thoughts of them exhaust my mind enough to make me pass out.
Waking up is far harder than falling asleep was. Lilie is physically shaking me awake and I bolt up in front of her, confused and still very sleepy. Before she even says anything, I can hear the alarm bells ringing throughout the town as sunlight burns my eyes. Eleven chimes. I've missed morning lessons already. One whole day off suspension and I've already managed to screw everything up so immensely. Fakir is probably disappointed in me already, and I don't know why that makes me so uncomfortably sick, why his opinion of me is so important. Lilie stares at me, her eyes sadder than I've ever seen them. I look at her, scared as to what she has to say, though her lips are pursed. She says nothing, just turning, waiting for me to get ready for the day. I change quickly out of her line of sight and begin walking with her.
"Is he angry at me?" I ask her, but she doesn't respond. That means he's probably furious. I follow her to the ballet room, where she shoves me in, running off down the hall. I stare as Fakir is faced towards one of the mirrors, stretching out his legs before catching my eye and turning to stare me down, his body noticably less tense.
"Antoinette told me something involving you last night. It was quite… Concerning, to say the least." I watch his feet gracefully toe over to me. My thoughts about him last night flood back in, and my cheeks just turn bright red, avoiding his line of sight. Fakir looks down at me, his arms crossed. "She told me that you were out, very late at night with some suspicious women." I finally move my face up, looking at him with furrowed brows.
"What?" I mutter.
"Is there something you need to tell me? She said these women seemed like they were women of the night." He seems at least a bit concerned. I shake my head, thinking it over. Antoinette was there with me, and she knows that. I pry my lips apart, about to croak out the truth, but I hide it under a fruitless lie.
"I-I don't know, they were very nice to me." Fakir sneers, slipping his hair out of the ponytail.
"You know you're bad at lying. Why do you keep doing it?" He pulls out a little journal from his pocket, jotting down something in it. It reminded me a lot of the journal in my dreams. But still I shrink into the door.
"I'm sorry, Fakir. I just don't feel comfortable talking about it." I quickly change the subject to try and save Antoinette's reputation before I blurt anything else out. "I'm sorry I missed morning lessons, too."
Fakir doesn't even seem to notice, before putting his journal back in his pocket. "You need to stop being so on edge. You're not in trouble, I'm not going to spank you." I watch his face blush for a second over that last comment, but I don't fully understand. He smirks and leans down towards me, his hair once again drifting over his eyes. "Then again, I could assume you like that." Another tingle runs up my spine. Skittering back against the door I groan at him.
"I don't want anyone to touch me! Especially spanking! That hurts so much!" But he quickly turns back, running his hand through his hair and letting loose a long sigh, muttering something to himself. I lean in and watch him just sigh before fixing his hair. He glimpses out the window, pondering for a moment.
I stride towards the window, right where he was looking, gazing down at the people below. He follows, peering out and watching people with me. I hear him chuckle and I look over at him.
"This may be invasive, and you can tell me to buzz off at any point." He prefaces, turning his back to the window. "But have you ever been in love with someone?" I watch Fakir as his gaze turns to the floor, looking almost in gear if whatever answer I give. I dig deep into my mind about it. It's a sweet, flowery feeling. It's what I used to think about Mytho. Wanting to be close to someone.
"I guess, I think I have. You probably already know who it is." I nervously lean over the bar, looking further out the window into somewhere that might not even exist. "It feels like I want to hold his hand and… I don't know. It's like this really huge want to be in their arms and dance with them." Fakir looks over at me, raising one of his brows.
"You realize we have danced together, right Ahiru? And if I'm not mistaken, one of the first years of our school years together, you held my hand." His voice is slick though he stands straight again, his muscular legs lifting his body entirely. "So I'm assuming you have had a boyfriend before." I shake my head. I never wanted one unless it was Mytho, but along with that is the no fraternization policy.
"Nope, you're the only person I've kissed, too." I remark, now watching a shiver run up his spine as he turns to look at me, completely dumbfounded. I shrink back, nervously giggling.
"So you're telling me that I was your first? Like, first first?" He seems distressed by this, and I try to reassure him that it is all okay, that I didn't mind. He manages to calm himself down, before fixing his hair once more. "I need you to meet me in the prairie we met in earlier. It needs to be completely isolated." He puts his hair finally back up, and with it his teacher mask is back on. "Meet me there at four tomorrow. Make sure no one else follows you there," He finally stands straight, squeezing my cheeks like he had done earlier. I move my face away from him, furrowing my brows and sticking my tongue out.
"And why would I? What reason do I have to trust you, after you told me not to?"
"You don't. You don't need to listen to me at all if you feel unsafe." He walks out with no other words exchanged, and I follow his hips. They're very nice. They sway in a way that makes me shift myself, and smile a little. My heart starts pounding in my chest, and I can't help but feel a bit intrigued by his words. He's right; I don't have to listen to him, I don't need to do anything he says. But there's something compelling me to listen to him. Stepping out of the ballet room, I run into the bathroom for a moment, needing to splash water on my face just to collect myself.
As I slide in quietly, I immediately hear something. Gentle and muffled moaning, cupped into someone's hand, almost like they're at least trying not to be caught. But they're very bad at not getting caught. I slip out again, uncomfortable at the mere sound of two people bumping uglies, quietly walking to the girls dorm to grab my knapsack for afternoon lessons. As soon as I'm done, I walk over to Pique and Lilie, smiling and talking with them, holding hands with both of them as we continue chatting. Lilie seems to be a bit better now, but she asks me something that sends a dagger into my stomach.
"What do you and Fakir do when you're alone?" It seems innocent, though her tone is rather suggestive. I don't want to lie to them. They're my real friends, but I don't know if they'd ever understand. I'll tell the truth, I think, just not all of it.
"He and I just talk, mostly."
"Talk?" Pique and Lilie chime together. "What about?"
"Mostly ballet, but sometimes about life. It's really nice." I smile to myself, thinking about that little grin he pulls when we're alone and that one time he genuinely laughed with me. "He's a big softie when you get down to his core," I feel Pique and Lilie squeezing me between their mature bodies, practically crushing my face.
"So you're in love with him!" They squeak, cooing into my ears. I feel my face burn brightly as I wriggle away from them.
"N-no of course not!" I fold my arms, though I can now see that they're set in believing I'm in love with him. But I can't even really define how I feel about him myself, it's just a comfortably warm glow in my chest. Like a shred of light beating in my heart. As we walk into class room, I can hear a loud commotion from across. I can see a large group of girls whispering and laughing, with Anty staring at me, a devious smirk crossing her lips, beckoning me over. I look at Pique and Lilie, shrugging before dashing over to her.
"Did you need something?" I try and ask sweetly. Antoinette smirks and eyes over Fakir as he enters the room. She nods her head over to him.
"He seems less tense today. I heard a student gave him a blowie in the girls bathroom," She giggles, making a gesture with her hand and mouth, raising an eyebrow at me. "Was that you?" I feel my cheeks, vague memories of learning what that was last night reverberating in my mind.
"No! I would never do something like that!" I practically shout, embarrassing myself as now, everyone is staring at me, including Fakir. His voice booms in that standard authoritarian fashion.
"You wouldn't do what, Miss Arima? I'm sure if you speak a little louder the whole class would like to know what you would and wouldn't do." I sink down to the floor, apologizing profusely. I listen as Antoinette and her group of friends laugh, taking their seats. I take mine, assigned between Pique and Lilie as Antoinette mouths "good job" to me. My stomach turns as inside my head I'm screaming at myself. Papa is screaming at me too, telling me exactly what I did wrong and how I should just give up. Most of the class is spent with my head glued to the desk in embarrassment. I feel an assignment placed next to me, and I finally perk my head up. A review of the Pas De Deux we were supposed to practice. There was no score, but instead there was a note, written in Fakir's beautiful cursive; "Meet with me after class".
I gulp, knowing I've very well flunked. As the bell rings, I bid Pique and Lilie on without me, with them having scored 96/100 scores. They probably danced beautifully together. I walk up to Fakir's desk as he's writing again in that little journal. I fumble with my fingers as he doesn't look up, just sensing my presence.
"About your Pas De Deux, I presume?" He sets down the feather quill, finally staring up at me, folding his hands under his chin. I nod and he returns it, frowning a bit. "Unfortunately, even though your partner was expelled, and you were assaulted, I cannot delay this assignment. I attempted to discuss it with Headmistress Samiel, but she was firm in her place. So, I'll be having you sit in during your lunch period to clean the ballet rooms, and you are being kept in the remedial periods." I bite my lip and nod solemnly. "I know you can dance beautifully, and I know that you're smart enough to pass." He stands, taking my hand and starts dancing with me. His hands lovingly keep me pressed into his chest as we continue. I trip for a moment, nervously shattering into his arms. I feel my body just tremble as I shake my head. I can hear everyone's voice speaking through me.
"I can't dance Fakir… I'm not smart either. I'm just a failing student, and I don't deserve your sympathy." He lets me go, his fingers running against my cheek
"Is that what you believe, or people have told you to believe? Because there is a difference, and I will make sure you recognize the difference." His voice is demanding, and yet still kind. He lets me go from class, reminding me about our meeting place. I nod and find my friends. As I'm walking with Pique and Lilie, they coo over and comfort me, though Antoinette halts us and sticks her nose up.
"I need your rubber duck." She demands of Pique and Lilie, though I watch them shelter me.
"She's not a toy. You can't just take her wherever you want." Pique states firmly, though I meekly walk towards her, knowing very well what she could do to them. I shrug, waving at them.
"I promise it's just for a little bit," I smile at them, but I see the anguish on their faces. I know this is wrong.
She leads me through to the gazebo again, her friends still there, but I see another figure. Someone familiar. That slick blonde hair and well built figure, that curved nose. I cower behind Antoinette and shiver. She looks at me, growling.
"What? You're not chickening out already are you? It's been two days." She grabs my braid, pushing me forward towards the group. I sit beside the same girl I met yesterday, hoping Victor doesn't see me at all. But my hopes are dashed as soon as I hear him speak up.
"Oh my, the little fox named Ducky is here. I didn't know she got into this little path in life." I watch as he wanders close to me, not standing me up, instead tilting my head up. The crotch of his pants is dangerously close to my face as I skitter away from him. "A fresh and dangerous nubile, I see." He smirks down at me, adjusting his pants for a second. I squeak and stand again, hearing the bell chime for the three o'clock bell.
"I have to go clean classrooms," I blurt nervously, bolting away from them. Something about being that close to him scares me. His hands could easily make me do anything he wants. I bolt through town to that little isolated plain. I gather myself before Fakir enters, breathing deeply and letting little birds perch on my arms, listening to them sing and tweet, soothing my fear a bit further. They surround me as I start weaving flower crowns with the daisies and other flowers from around the plain. Mom taught me how to make them; she told me it's good to make people gifts to show our appreciation for them, and our dedication to their friendship. I smile and weave one for Fakir even, with blue, yellow, and pink flowers weaved in. I smile and set my finished crown on my own head as the birds twitter about, fluttering and dancing together in the air. I listen as the bushes rustle, making way for Fakir. I stand straight as my bird friends flicker away.
"Fakir!" I smile at him as he walks over to me. He seems casual for once, in a button down shirt, and loose pants, fastened by a belt. He's smiling at me, and we sit together again in the soft afternoon light. I don't even know what makes this time so comforting. It's serene, away from all the chaos in the school, away from all my problems. I clutch onto the flower crown I made him. "May I?" He finally looks from it to me, before kneeling into position for it to be bestowed.
"I would be honored, Princess." His voice is sweet again. I blush and place it around the top of his head, fitting it perfectly. I smile and curtsey at his formal request.
"Anything for a humble knight," I giggle at him, sitting in front of him and smiling. He sits across from me, touching the petals and stems, enjoying his crown from what I see. He looks down at me and smiles, as we bathe in the cooling breeze.
"Do you remember our performance, back about five years ago?" He turns to stare at me. I remember it, but I don't really remember much.
"Yeah. You were ass back then, too." I smirk at him. He stares up at the drifting clouds, hands pressed to his chest as we just lay together in the soft grass. I watch him reminisce on something.
"Do you remember the first day of performance?" He starts again, looking me over. I think it over, shaking my head.
"Not really. It was just a huge blur of pain and pink." I whine, resting on my tummy and holding my head up with my hands. "Why do you ask?" I watch him unbutton his shirt by two buttons, and I remember. A long dark scar across his chest. Starting from his right shoulder and going well below the belt, it is a slight shade darker than his natural olive tone. I remember that promise I've kept.
It had been a very long day. I had been put in an uncomfortably tight white costume, and my long hair had been placed underneath a feather prop that had crowned the sides of my face. The actual small crown prop on the top of my hair was pinching my scalp and I was ready to cry. The tight ballet flats made my bones feel like they were about to crack. This was too much for an eleven year old like me. Why did I even choose this role? I had never danced before, but I was just compelled to do it, I guess. I couldn't even remember my own move set. I was bursting through the hall, my feet crumpling under the pressure I put my feet and mind under in that short time frame. I grabbed the door handle of what I thought was my dressing room and flung myself in.
I had practically shriveled in the corner of Fakir's room, nervously breaking down as my makeup had already started streaming down my cheeks. I thought I was alone, that I was by myself in this hellscape. Though there were footsteps in my direction, and I looked up. Fakir was in front of me; fifteen, shirtless, and watching me with some unreadable emotion. His long dark scar was visible, making him more intimidating. I wanted to skitter back, but I was so tired I could barely even lift my head. I stared at the long scar across his chest, still sniffling.
"I-I'm sorry, Fakir…" I tried standing, but he just kept me seated. As he began buttoning up his shirt, he finally spokr. His voice was slightly higher back then, but it was still as authoritarian as it is now.
"Why are you crying? We're going to perform in half an hour." He finished buttoning up his costume, leaning over his knees and watching me continue to sniffle, and wipe away my makeup as my tears acted as great remover. Through hiccuping and distressed sobs, I try and explain.
"E-everything hurts r-really, really badly, and I think I forgot m-my moves and… I'm gonna mess up everything just like my dad said I was gonna. He's gonna watch me out there and I'm gonna fall and hit my head really hard and-" I was cut off by Fakir's hand cupping my mouth. His mouth twitched in annoyance as he stood us up in his tiny dressing room.
"If you think like that then it's going to happen. Now, listen to me, I'm not letting you ruin your first performance," He leaned over, staring at the small elementary school aged girl in front of him, tucking my hair back behind my ear. He knelt down, adjusting the ribbons on my ballet flats, making them less tight. He did the same with the rest of my costume, gently adjusting it so I wouldn't be suffocated or in severe pain. "Now, we're going to go over your set. So show me what you remember." I nod and start moving my legs to the beat playing in my mind. But I halt as soon as I get en pointe. I whimper and tremble, forgetting everything after it. Fakir took my hands, helping me retrace the steps we took in class. As soon as I remember, he sits me down fixing my makeup that had run down too far to salvage, which seemed like most of it at the time.
"Thank you, Fakir," I beam at him brightly, watching him scoff at me as he waves his hand out.
"Now leave. And don't tell anybody what you saw. I will make sure your life is hell if you do." He scowls, but it never crossed my mind as I ran out to perform in front of everyone.
Fakir returns his gaze to me as I come back down from that memory. He traces the outline of the scar through his shirt, and I just watch his face for a couple moments. Tracing over his features with my mind. He looks so close to how he used to, but still the signs of age grace him better than all those years ago.
"You really must have wowed your dad. You did great for your first year." He turns to me, though I shrink a bit at the mention of him. I blow air at one of the blades of grass in front of me, my brows pushed together at the thought of him.
"He never showed. It wasn't that bad without him though. He's not a very nice person to begin with," I turn to Fakir and change the subject, sitting up to watch the clouds begin to graduate from white to pink. "Can I ask you something personal?" He raises an eyebrow and tells me to continue. "Who was your first?" I watch his face burn up a bit, turning to face away from me.
"That's a bit far, don't you think?" His voice cracks for a second.
"You asked me the exact same thing! I should know who you've kissed since you know who I've kissed," I muse, pulling on his collar to look up at me, his anxiety deflating a bit. He laughs for a second, sitting up in his place as I release his shirt.
"Oh thank god. I thought you were asking something completely different." I watch him think for a couple moments before finally responding. "It was a girl who was in the advanced ballet class. She was a transfer, but I think her name was Agnes. It's been quite a few years though. I was probably a year or two younger than you." I sink back to the ground, laying on the soft grass. So he was fourteen or fifteen. Great, now I feel behind the curve of romantic interactions with anyone.
"What did you think I was gonna ask?" I reply, my fingers inching towards him, gently rubbing my pinky against the palm of his hand. His hand doesn't rescind, instead intertwining with mine very gently. My face flushes red as I feel my heart pound. This feels like something I'd fantasize about, something in the dead of night.
"I thought that you were gonna ask how many people I've slept with." My face burns brighter and I release our hands as I shuffle back.
"No! That's way too far to ask, especially since you're my teacher!" Fakir sits up as well, pulling me into his lap. My fantasies are starting to flood back into my mind. Those fantasies I've had in the middle of the night when no one else is around, when no one should be awake.
"So kissing isn't too far for you?" Fakir smiles, his head nestled into the crook of my neck and shoulder. His lips grazing against my collarbone sends goosebumps through all of my body. It's a sensual feeling, and I don't know why I like it so much. He pulls back, instead standing both of us up. "But this isn't why I called you here, and I'm sure you know that." He fishes his hand through his pockets, before extending his hand out to me and giving me a note. I opened it up, reading it to myself.
I know your dirty secret. Listen to everything I say and both of your steamy secrets can be left buried in that room you spent that night together in. I need you, Fakir, to stop visiting with Ahiru, since she's just a lying little crow. If you fail to comply, then I will let everyone know what happened in that sweet little room. She spilled every detail to me. I feel my chest tighten. It had to be Antoinette, I know that much, but why would she say this about me? It was wrong, completely wrong!
"Do you know who this could be?" Fakir takes the note back, folding it neatly and putting it into his pocket again. I struggle to form the words. Why can't I just tell him it's Anty? It'd be over within minutes if I just told him. It'd be completely finished and done with. But I still owe her. I open my mouth before hearing the bushes rustling again.
"Well well, so this is what you call 'cleaning classrooms' little duck?" Victor groans, starting over to us. Fakir pulls me behind his back, shielding me from him. "Making flower crowns and making out with older men? Didn't think you really had the guts, since you said you don't have a boyfriend." Victor managed to tower over both me and Fakir, though Fakir doesn't seem to shrink like I do.
"Who are you?" Fakir glares at him, still a few inches shorter than Victor.
"Oh, she never told you? I'm Victor. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister Fakir, I assume." Victor tries to circle us, though Fakir keeps me behind him, pressed to his back and away from Victor.
"How do you know my name?"
"Your lovely students don't stop talking about you and how dreamy you are. Surely you know that," He tries to touch the flower crown on the top of Fakir's head, though Fakir bats his hand away. Victor smiles deviously. "Did you know that someone's saying that you, Mister Fakir, have been receiving oral favors from students and staff? They're saying that you've been getting busy in bathrooms with the underage students and coworkers."
"That's not true!" Fakir shouts up at him, though Victor doesn't seem the slightest bit phased. He simply chuckles, starting to step away from us.
"Even lies have some semblance of truth, children." I watch him saunter away without another word, Fakir still clutching me close to his back.