The next few weeks saw an upswing in the tempo across campus. Christian barely had time for Rei and Sebastian, let alone any of his other friends. It was a nonstop blur of classes and studying, with short breaks for eating and sleeping. It seemed like no one had the same schedule from one day to the next. He treasured the brief stolen moments with Sebastian as they met before and after Dr. McMillan's classes, though they were painfully short. Rei was nearly absent from morning until night, when he would come staggering back to the dorm and actually fall asleep at a reasonable hour. Christian filled the time between classes and in the evenings by practicing with his magefire. He had started making wards with it, and was startled at how much more effective they were when driven by magefire. He was beginning to adapt it, leaving openings for extraordinary auras and impressions, but he had no idea how effectively it actually was working. There were very few extraordinary individuals around town, and he couldn't squeeze in the time to go and see them.
He had also started practicing releasing the magefire in a more solid form, reminiscent of the classic fantasy fireball. He was sure he was tempering it, so as to not knock a hole in the wall, but it was still proving to be a hurdle to direct just the right amount of energy and will to get the sought-for result. That disappointment aside, it did please him to no small end that he could create a small proper globe of light that hung in the air at the level he desired. If anyone could have easily looked into the fourth floor window, they would have seen Christian moving around with a small ball of periwinkle-tinted light hovering just above his left shoulder with some frequency. He'd lay in bed and let it hang above him, then direct it with a tiny flick of the wrist or fingers, or spin it like a tiny planet. He had a notion that his own aura must be that same color of pale blue-purple. It felt like the color of his soul.
It was still a brutal winter, almost unnaturally so. Christian floundered in hip-deep snowbanks on his way to classes, wishing that he had invested in some snow-pants before Christmas. His hands and nose were perpetually raw and chapped, even with gloves and mufflers. Professor Smith allowed the entire Ancient Religions class to meet in the student union rather than struggle further through the snow to Stern Hall, and actively encouraged everyone to get tea or coffee before class. Even Dr. McMillan relented to reason and migrated from his beloved and drafty corner classroom to one of the empty seminar rooms on the ground floor. Sebastian had given up entirely and let his beard grow in thick and full, as much to protect his skin as to keep warm. Christian fancied it. It made Sebastian look even more like a Viking, albeit a very nicely-dressed one.
"Watch out, I come from a long line of corporate raiders and pillagers," he joked when Christian expressed his admiration. "We sack and burn the wasted expenditures in under-performing companies." They were walking from Dr. McMillan's class, having both finished their tests well before the bell rang. Even more shocking, a thin bright sun was trying to peek through the clouds. Sebastian wrapped his long fingers around Christian's hand and pulled him nearer. "What do you want to do this weekend?"
"What?" Christian's mind raced. Was he missing something important? It couldn't be Sebastian's birthday, that was New Year's Day. It wasn't their anniversary, but Sebastian kept looking at him with a very expectant expression. Suddenly Christian remembered the pink-frosted cookies on the dessert table in the dining halls, and the lacy heart-shaped paper doilies stuck everywhere. "Oh crap, I completely lost track of the month. I didn't get you a present!"
Sebastian laughed. "That's what you're worried about? Getting me some little trinket?" He squeezed Christian's hand in his. "Don't you think I've been too hung up on your health to get you a box of candy?" They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Sebastian catching Christian by the arm when he lost his footing on the icy sidewalk, and refusing to release him even after he regained his feet. Finally Sebastian spoke. "Gifts don't matter. I thought maybe you'd like to have a weekend away. Go to my parents' place, that kind of thing."
"Oh." Christian scuffed his boots against the uneven ice and salt. "I don't know. I don't want your mom and dad fussing over me." He saw the disappointment creep into those blue eyes, and hastily continued. "I'd rather spend the time with just you, you know?"
"I guess. Mom's been worried that you aren't getting the rest you need." Sebastian forced a thin smile, but he did look unhappy. "She's pretty steamed that your parents didn't come to see to you at the hospital."
"Oliver was sick with a bad flu. They couldn't easily travel." Christian felt that was only half the truth. He had a feeling neither wanted to see their first-born in such a perilous state. They had an amazing tendency to deny the realities in front of their noses, and Christian was not at all blind to the fact that he was a disgrace in their eyes. "June was sick too, over at C.S.U. I think that as long as they knew that we were in good hands and improving, Mom and Dad were content to let life go on as usual."
"That's so wrong, though," Sebastian argued. "You two are their kids too. They ought to have come." Christian didn't have the stomach to tell him that they would have left Oliver to his own devices too if he didn't live under their roof. He had a sneaking hunch that they had in fact left him alone during most of the day, and had let his illness disrupt their own schedules as little as possible. Sebastian sighed in surrender. "Okay, well, what do you want to do for Valentine's Day?"
"I'd like to just order in something and watch some movies, if I can be upfront about it. Rei is taking Zoe out for the weekend, if I know them, and I'll have the room to myself. Or to ourselves, if you'd prefer."
"It's no home-cooked meals or messing around in the big feather bed, but it's better than nothing if it means time with you."
Now that he was aware of the impending holiday, Christian wondered how he could have been so blind to it. There was a frenzied quality in the air across campus, a different drive than studying for tests or finishing papers. It was plainly obvious who did not have a date for the weekend, to judge from the frantic whispering and texting going on in huddled knots of students. Christian hoped that his relationship with Sebastian was general enough knowledge that he would be let alone. While there were some eager looks in his direction in classes and meals, most people kept it to themselves, dissuaded by their friends.
Christian was grateful to be left in peace. He had never been popular, but apparently his collapse and the rumors swirling around it had made him something of a novelty. He was sitting in the dining hall at White, planning on taking the tunnels back to Clarke when he was done with his coffee and dessert, when Valletta dropped breathlessly into the seat opposite from him. As always, she was stunning, and a perfect picture of New York fashion. She had just come in from outside, to judge from her red-tipped nose and slightly fly-away hair. She reached up to smooth it back into its sleek platinum bob, and gave Christian a heart-stopping smile. Impulsively she leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"I'm glad I caught you," she said. "I've been trying for weeks to talk to you, and I keep missing you every single time."
"What do you need, Vallie?" he asked. He wished she didn't light such a fire in his belly. He was so happy with Sebastian, and most certainly was clear on his preference for men, but still, she made him feel a little giddy. Valletta beamed at him, full of genuine delight, and he very nearly undid his warding just so he could see what her aura must look like. Somehow that felt even more intimate than the less-than-a-handful of times that they had made love, and he had to drop his gaze to his hands.
"I need to know if you and Sebastian are doing anything special this weekend," she answered, her soft mouth pursing gently. Christian rested his chin on his hand as he leaned forward.
"We are. Movies and order-in, and a dorm room all to ourselves. What are you doing?"
"That's not exactly romantic, is it?" she scoffed. "I wanted to know if you two would like to come to a big Valentine bash as my guests, because two gorgeous guys are always better than one, and it's even better when they don't expect you to put out at the end of the night."
"I thought you were giving up the party circuit. What's the catch?" Christian gave her the piercing look that he had perfected on his younger brother. Valletta squirmed.
"Okay, you got me. One of my exes is coming to the party with Krystal and I just want to show her up." Valletta pouted a bit. "He dumped me and she's been trashing me all over the internet and I just want to rub her nose in it."
"I thought we agreed that you would stay off the gossip sites and social media during the academic year," Christian chided. Valletta turned bright pink.
"Okay, yes, but London and Geneva said it was getting out of control. I had to look." She fiddled with her gloves. "You're about to say something deep or clever or deeply clever, and it's going to point out what a spoiled little princess I still am, and how much I would like to grow up and be as polished as you."
"Flattery gets you nowhere with me," he said. "How's this? Don't go to this bash, presumably in New York City, and if you must, have Genie and London put out a statement on your behalf if you must that you're deciding to share the love on Valentine's Day with kids in our community who deserve to feel like princesses and princes in their own fairy tale, and have a dance for them."
"Ooh, it's already Tuesday. That's not a lot of time to set this up." Valletta tapped one perfectly manicured nail against the table. Christian deliberately ignored her and drank his coffee instead. "I'd probably have to call in some favors...."
"It's a good business all the way around, though. You look like the sweetheart you actually are and not the vapid quasi-celebrity you pretend to be, anyone who volunteers their time or what have you looks good, and it'll be higher on the social media's radar than another over-priced, over-done, and completely self-involved cool kids' party." Christian drew his brows together in thought. "Ask Audrey to help you organize. She's good at that kind of thing, and she probably knows the right people to ask to borrow a conference hall or one of the practice gyms or even a ball room if the Greeks haven't claimed them all."
"I think it might work. You are brilliant, you know." She gave him a warm smile. "It's too bad I'm not your type. I'd have to keep you for a very long time."
"Don't sell yourself short," he told her as she got up to leave. "You're one of the most sincere and generous people I have ever met. The rest of the world is just too dense to understand that." She didn't say anything, but came around the table to kiss him on the forehead.
"Don't go dying on me again," she told him seriously. "You're more important to me than you'll ever know."
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