He Comes At Night

Third POV:

Usually, when you're called to a professor's office after school hours, you don't exactly expect a pizza party or a unicorn flying around.

But let me tell you, you most certainly do not expect to see the last person you want to see standing there, arms crossed, looking like he's ready to burn the place down with sheer willpower.

And yet, here she was. Facing him.

Not Mr. Aspen, in case you were wondering.

No, standing there, practically radiating unfiltered irritation, was none other than Dracken—the guy she had been hoping to avoid but somehow couldn't seem to shake off.

Rose froze in the doorway, eyes scanning the office like it held some escape route she hadn't noticed before.

Meanwhile, Dracken stood in the center of the room, his glare fixed solely on her, as though she had personally committed some grave offense against his very existence.

"Ah! Ms. Gabrielle, you're here. Good," Mr. Aspen's voice broke the tension. He sat behind his desk, as relaxed as ever, clearly unfazed by the storm brewing in the middle of his office. 

"I was beginning to wonder if you had decided to ditch my request to hang out with Ms. James instead. In which case, of course, I'd have had to give you detention, and we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Rose tore her eyes away from Dracken and focused on the professor, forcing herself to ignore the seething presence next to her.

"Dracken, will you be so kind as to step aside so she can come in and sit with us? We have a lot to discuss."

Dracken didn't budge. Instead, he scoffed and turned toward Mr. Aspen, his voice laced with irritation. "Has anything I just said gotten through to you? We are not doing this. There is nothing here to discuss, so I suggest you let it go before things get messy."

Whoa. Hold up. Was he threatening a professor?

Rose's brows shot up as she glanced between them. If anyone else had spoken to a professor like that, she was pretty sure they'd be halfway out the door with an expulsion notice in hand. But Mr. Aspen didn't so much as flinch.

"I don't care whether it's her—" Dracken jabbed a thumb in Rose's direction, making her bristle. "Or anyone else. I am not letting you dictate my life just because—"

He abruptly cut himself off, jaw tightening. For a split second, his voice dropped, a barely audible murmur slipping past his lips, as if he was arguing with himself more than anyone else. "It's not a good idea. You know that."

Okay, what?

Rose's patience snapped. "Alright, hold on a damn minute." She stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and Mr. Aspen's desk. "Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on? Because I'm pretty sure whatever this guy is throwing a tantrum over involves me, and I'd really appreciate it if someone clued me in."

Before the professor could respond, Dracken's voice cut through the air, sharper than before. "Whatever it is, it does not concern you, Gabrielle. So do us all a favor and leave."

Rose's head snapped toward him. Oh, he did not just—

Her anger simmered at a slow, controlled boil. "Excuse me?" she said, voice dangerously smooth. "And who exactly do you think you are, telling me what to do? I was called here by Mr. Aspen. And until he tells me to leave, or I decide to, no one—" she let her gaze flick over him with pointed disinterest, "—and I mean no one, gets to order me around."

Dracken's jaw ticked, but she wasn't done. "Now, since you're so eager to point fingers, why don't you explain why you were so dramatically pointing at me a second ago? If this has nothing to do with me, why am I even here?"