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The campus reminded me of something out of Dead Poets Society.
The Rooks were one of three most powerful secret societies in the world, comprised of former CIA, FBI, presidents, inventors, all of whom had once sat in this very room at some point.
if I can’t have her, no one can
She was an incomprehensible light in his darkness.
No one touched what belonged to me without repercussions. My class. My requirements. My student.
Without a doubt, Lilia Vespertine was going to be a massive headache. But she was my headache.
That lying little shit had posted the video anyway, and I’d be damned if I’d let a bunch of perverted fucks watch her like that.
“Stay out of trouble, Curious Moth,” he said, as he strode for the door. Curious Moth. A nickname. A fitting one, too, given the fact that I had no intentions of avoiding the flame.
“The wealthy possess an insatiable appetite for the rare and priceless. They stare because you’re the only thing worth staring at.”
“You shouldn’t knock romance, Professor. It so happens that love is biologically important to human beings. It reduces blood pressure and depression, and improves sleep.” The contemplative expression on his face twisted to a smirk. “And just how does that benefit you as a reader? A voyeur, essentially. You have no intimate connection with these fictional characters.” “Says who? I happen to get very attached to my fictional boyfriends.” Yet another frown. “Boyfriends?” “I read a lot.”
What I feel for you, Miss Vespertine, would destroy lives.”
Mortui vivos docent. The dead teach the living.
