’Just gotta get to the dorm. Just walk. Nothing’s happening. Nothing’s wrong. I’m totally fine, this is fine...’

Fate, sensing Silas’s desperation, decided to spice things up. Damien... was waiting in the corridor, leaning lazily against the wall. His eyes were full of smug amusement as he watched Silas step out of the class, his grin widening wickedly.

"Well, well..." Damien pushed himself off the wall. "If it isn’t Valecrest’s favorite pink menace."

Silas screamed inwardly.

’Not now. Any moment but NOW! Why is he everywhere? Does he teleport? Does gravity manipulation come with a stalker perk?!’

Damien stepped into the center of the hallway with his arms casually open as though welcoming a sparring partner to a wrestling ring.

"Fancy bumping into you again. Thought maybe you’d finally wanna settle what you ran away from earlier."

Silas tightened his grip on his backpack, keeping it pressed firmly to his front. He kept on walking with a subtle sideways stance like a man escorting a baby penguin to safety.

"Not today, Damien," Silas said out loud.

Damien raised a brow, surprised by the calm attitude of the famous Pinky. Silas was anything but calm most of the time. Despite being a non-awakened, he was still feared by many because of his almost unhinged personality.

"You’re running again? That’s not like you. Usually, you at least pretend you want a fair fight."

"You really have time for nonsense. Are you a stalker? Because I’m honestly creeped out," Silas shot back and moved past him. Damien immediately flashed to his front and spread his arms like a goalkeeper blocking a goal.

"You sure love to joke around..." He said in a hardened tone. Silas had hit a sore spot. Silas mentally screamed obscenities at the cosmos.

’If he gets any closer, I’m going to commit involuntary homicide.’

With the smoothest tactical dodge of his life, Silas suddenly leaned forward as though to walk past Damien, then pivoted sharply, slipping under one of Damien’s outstretched arms with the speed and slipperiness of a greased ferret.

Damien blinked in confusion as Silas power-walked away like a man whose dignity hung by a thread, backpack glued to his front, refusing to look back.

"Hey!" Damien called. "You’re avoiding me!"

"Do you have a girlfriend? If not, get one, and stop stalking me. I don’t swing that way."

Students watched the whole thing unfold: Silas’s evasive maneuvers, Damien’s baffled stance, the bizarre body language, and whispers erupted instantly.

"Is he sick?"

"Did he sprain something?"

"He’s walking funny."

"Maybe it’s a curse backlash."

"No, no, he always looks like that when he’s trying not to fight."

"Damien is into guys?"

But Silas had disappeared...

***

Silas lasted exactly seven minutes in his room before admitting defeat. Every step he took reminded him that whatever was happening in his pants had no intention of calming down. He tried pacing, breathing exercises, and even tried reciting multiplication tables. Nothing worked.

"This isn’t normal... This isn’t! I’m going to die like this!"

With only one option left, he headed towards the infirmary. He tugged his backpack into a "strategically" compressed position and headed out, moving with the fragile dignity of a man escorting a live grenade. The journey there felt endless. He kept his gaze downward to prevent people from asking him questions that would make him beat someone up.

By the time he pushed open the infirmary door, he was sweating for entirely new reasons. Inside, the lights were soft, the scent faintly floral, and everything felt too calm for what he was dealing with.

The nurse stepped out from behind a curtain after hearing the sound of the door opening and closing. Nurse Anna Miles, Valecrest’s most unfairly attractive staff member. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Her hair was a smooth, dark-brown cascade tied into a loose, low ponytail. Her skin had that warm, soft glow that made people question whether lighting itself adored her. The uniform wasn’t scandalous, but somehow it fit her too well, white coat over a fitted vest, skirt just above the knee, stockings, sensible heels that still looked unfairly good.

She blinked at him in surprise, not expecting Silas of all people to be there.

"Silas? What brings you here? You look flushed... Did you miss me?" Nurse Anna teased. Silas nearly died on the spot as he remembered what had happened the last time he was there.

’Why HER?! WHY TODAY?! Did I sin in a past life?!’

He fought to keep a straight expression and answered.

"I... uh... I think I’m sick."

Her brows furrowed with gentle concern as she stepped closer.

"What kind of symptoms?" Her tone was professional, but the proximity was not something his current condition could handle. Not when she was staring piercingly at his backpack. She seemed to have noticed what was actually wrong as her lips curled slightly into a smile.

He stiffened and instinctively backed up a step.

"Uhh... elevated... uh... circulation..? Maybe? I think?"

Anna placed the back of her hand on his forehead to check his temperature, and Silas felt every atom in his dignity implode. Her skin was cool to the touch. Her scent was clean and soft, something like jasmine and book pages. The touch lasted only a second, but it was a second too long. And she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

The touch lasted only a second, but it was a second too long.

"I don’t feel a fever," she murmured. "Is it perhaps muscle strain? You look tense."

Silas made a sound between a cough and a dying-robot glitch.

"I... It’s not muscle strain." He tightened his grip on his backpack like it was the last shield of civilization. "It’s... lower. MUCH lower."

"Ah." She kept her tone neutral, but her eyes shimmered with a tiny, amused sparkle. "I see. You’re experiencing... an involuntary response."

Silas wished he could evaporate into vapor.

"It won’t go down," he said through clenched teeth. "It’s been like this for an hour. I think I’m dying."

"I know just the remedy for it..."