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"You're drunk," (Y/n) deadpanned as if it wasn't obvious enough. The smell of beer, though not overwhelming, was a stark contrast against the cool night breeze opening her balcony door had brought in. Beer did not smell good, in her opinion. Even if it was whatever expensive crap he was probably drinking. "You're too young to drink, dumba**."

Kieran's eyes rose off the floor and landed on her. A goofy smile broke across his face rather than his signature smirk. "(Y/n)-chan~!"

Oh hell. He's one of those types.

"I missed you...I want a hug..."

The hella clingy drunk. Watch this turn into a sob fest.

She closed her laptop slowly to hide the traces of her crime and pushed it under her pillow, not tearing her eyes away from the approaching male. "Not when you stink," she wrinkled her nose. "Not ever actually. So shoo, go to zebra if you want comforting. Not me."

He tilted his head, confused. "Ze...bra? Is that a new kind of bra?"

This dude, she sighed internally. Can't believe I'm saying this, but I prefer it when he was sober. Actually, that's debatable. "You're not getting on my bed," she frowned, swatting him away. "And no, I'm not changing my mind no matter what you say."

He blinked slowly, her words sounding like they were underwater in his muddled haze. "(Y/n)-chan..." he cried again, sinking to the feet of her bed and plopping his face down on it. "I'm so numb...make it go away..."

"Last time I checked I wasn't a doctor. If you want a hospital, you're in the wrong place."

He didn't seem to hear her as he giggled something incoherent and plopped his whole body onto the bed. "Yeah— no! Bad snowman!" (Y/n) scrambled away from him. "This is not your room, so leave! Shoo! Uh, how do you say 'leave' in Japanese?"

"Aisuru..." he mumbled.

"Yeah, that. Whatever you say. I-something."

Kieran rolled over onto his face and looked up at her, his wide golden eyes hazy and searching. She gave him a weird look back. "I don't have any beer for you."

He smiled, his face clearing up as something seemed to dawn on him. "Aisuru," he said again with a breathy sigh. He reached up and played with the ends of her hair, a silly smile still on his pink-tinted face. "(Y/n)..."

"I'm afraid I don't speak drunk. English please?"

He ignored her, making a humming sound from the back of his throat as he stared up at the ceiling, and then back at her. Before she could react, he pulled her down and wrapped his arms around her waist, his head on her stomach, boxing her in like a mouse caught by a python. An albino python.

"Princess..." He sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a breath of satisfaction. She was anything but satisfied, however.

"Can we not with the manhandling?" (Y/n) scowled, trying to pry his steel-like grip off of her. But she might've been trying to snap an iron band for all she tried. He cuddled against her so tight as if he was afraid she'd try and escape. Which she was, but no one needed to tell him that.

He barely noticed her efforts and smiled, pressing a kiss to the spot where her shirt rode up. "Stop struggling," he murmured, a smile in his voice and his eyes closed peacefully. "I could break you so easily...so stop trying to leave."

Drunks are a pain in the arse. Snowman drunks are even worse. This was almost less ideal than the time he caught her in the library. At least that time she could show off her overwhelming sword of wit and sarcasm to fend him off. But now? The dude could barely even hear her.

She sighed and gave up after her umpteenth attempt at freeing herself from his grip. And no, she wasn't weak. They were just abnormally strong. She definitely hasn't been told by the school nurse she had just enough muscles for breathing before—I mean, what?

This is going to be a long night, she thought with a mental groan. How am I going to catch up on some very much needed Z's like this?

True, (Y/n) could fall asleep anywhere, anytime. Try doing it with an overgrown snowman attached to you and you'll be singing a different tune.

This is why you don't drink, kids.

TEMPUS:DORM ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ вєfσяє

He didn't know how many bottles he's gone through. When the cans ran out, he turned to the brandy and wine. When that was gone, he drowned himself in shots upon shots of cold, hard vodka without bothering to use a mixer. He let the liquid burn trails of fire down his throat the whole way, not bothering to stop and catch his breath—only let it continue to burn.

He barely felt it, the pain. He might've been chugging water for all he did, and only the strongest vodka was able to make him feel the slightest tingle in his throat. Even so, Kieran knew he had gone too far. The dizziness in his head and the blurriness in his vision...that couldn't be normal. And the colors, the sounds—oh God, the sounds—they wouldn't stop.

His eyes slid slowly over the marble counter to what was left of his cellphone. Bits and pieces. Just like him, a fragmented bunch shattered and taped back together. A broken thing that crumbled back down with the slightest of touch and had to resort to hiding behind his smoke and mirrors.

Lying, deceiving, hiding. Always pushing people away.

Tonight had been especially worse. Tristan told him about Leon's father and brother's arrival, and how his parents changed their mind and decided not to come after all. Decided to not bother with their sorry excuse of a son and return to their black and gold cage. The only reason he was alive was that he was their heir, Kieran thought bitterly. Child neglect wasn't good publicity.

One phone call. Only one call after nearly seven years of waiting. Waiting, anticipating, hoping for his parents to remember about him and take him home as a boy. When he was still innocent and cheerful. When he didn't have to change his masks every few days.

When he still believed his parents loved him.

Or so he thought. Kieran didn't remember anymore. He's made up so many lies about his background to his girlfriends he didn't even know what was true anymore. No one wanted damaged goods, after all. Was it him throwing them away or the other way around?

"Kieran," his mother's nervous voice said through the phone earlier. "W-we are calling to check in on you. Are your tuition fees all caught up on?"

It was always about the money. Money, money, money. Nothing else but money and power.

"Yes," the white-haired male had said, forcing a pleasantry into his voice he didn't feel. "How are you doing today, mother?"

If he could see her from the other side of the phone, he knew she recoiled at the word. He knew she'd have that same look of horror and revulsion in her eyes he once believed was a passing thing. It wasn't. His parents made it very clear he was no son of theirs.

"W-well. Your...father and I are busy. We'll get back to you when we have spare time next, yes?"

Again with the lies and excuses. He was getting sick of the pretenses.

Not that he was any stranger to them.

"I understand," he had said, even though he knew the truth. Years would go by until either of them remembered to check up on him again. "I...miss you, m—"

Click. A click, and the line fell dead.

Rejection.

Kieran threw his head back and let the clear liquid in his glass slide down his throat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and collapsed against the counter. A cruel, mocking laugh escaped his lips as he let his legs give away underneath him. I tried to be the perfect son for years, he mused, not bothering to pour the rest of the vodka and downing it straight from the bottle instead. I get compliments from other families. Attractive, clever, promising. But nothing from those sh*tbags.

The bottle now empty, he gazed at it with hollow eyes and flung it across the room. It exploded against the opposite wall in a shower of crystalline glass and poisonous droplets. Attractive. I f*cking hate that word. Who gives a sh*t if someone's attractive when they're dying on the inside?

No one. Absolutely no one.

And the loneliness was suffocating.

The white-haired male tipped his head back with the neck of the bottle positioned above his tongue. He waited for another drop of that addictive poison to come out, but nothing did. The fridge and pantry were empty—he downed all the alcohol he could lay his hands on.

At first, confusion. He shook the bottle in a daze. Where was the rest of it? Then frustration—he flung it to the side with less force than the first one. The strength was draining from his muscles, and rapidly.

Kieran staggered to his feet. Cold sweat broke over his brow and he stopped chuckling to swallow the bile that rose up his throat. The world spun and pinpoints of bright lights danced before his eyes as he started to topple over into the glistening bed of broken glass underneath him. Part of him was tempted to let himself fall. Part of him was tempted to see if it would do anything to him besides make him bleed. Would he finally feel pain?

But his hand betrayed him. A limb flew out, grabbing onto the smooth countertop and pulling him upright. A scowl broke out across his face as he regained his footing. Boring...

His eyes swept over the mess he'd made. Broken chairs, shattered glass, disorganized pantry, and fridge. Not an ounce of remorse touched his heart at the sight of the mayhem he caused. Instead, he laughed, relishing in the single bit of disorder in his otherwise seemingly sparkling and perfect world of luxury.

As he laughed, an unhinged and hiccuping sound, one name floated through the blue haze before his eyes and made his chest ache.

Pain, he realized. This was pain. Not the physical kind, but the mental kind. It didn't matter—pain was pain. And he welcomed it.

One last unfettered laugh left his trembling body before he stumbled out of the kitchen, a sloppy smile plastered onto his face. He didn't care, didn't think as he somehow dragged himself up the stairs and came to a stop before a certain girl's room.

If this is the only way I can finally feel something...then so be it.

TEMPUS:DORM ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ мσяηιηg

Was it good or bad Kieran was still in her room the next morning? Good that she didn't have to chase him down to beat an explanation out of him or bad that she had to see his annoying face first thing in the morning?

Definitely bad, she thought as she shied her eyes with a pillow before they saw more than they should at her age. Apparently hangovers weren't a thing to the white-haired male. In fact, he looked better than ever. Practically glowing, almost. Or maybe it was just the shower.

He caught her peeking and threw a flirty wink in her direction. "Like what you see, princess?"

It was definitely the shower.

"Yes, this pillow is very nice," she replied snarkily, purposefully staring hard at the pillow in front of her face. "Could use a teeny bit more fluff though."

From her current view, she could see the barest edge of what looked like a towel tied around his waist. Nothing else. Embarrassment and irritation bloomed simultaneously in her chest as she glared holes into the pillow, refusing to look up at him.

That bugger decided it was a good idea to come closer and lean against the bedpost next to her. Of flipping course he did.

"Go away," she scowled. "You're getting the bed wet. I ain't paying for the dry cleaners."

"The bed?" And his signature smirk was back as he pointedly dipped his head forward, water droplets rolling off his white-gold hair and blossoming pale gray flowers on the sheets. "I'm sure the bed isn't the only thing I'm making wet."

(Y/n) was pretty sure she didn't want to respond to that. More than just pretty sure, actually. She ignored his comment and freed one of her hands, using it to throw a spare pillow at him. "Put on some clothes and get out of here! Better yet, you can leave as you are. Just go!"

"You're kicking me out," he replied coolly. "When I don't even have a shirt on? You're almost more heartless than Trish-chan."

"Well, great to know. Do I get a medal? If not, you can go now," she said with a furrowed brow. "What was up with you last night?"

"Now you're interrogating me?" He made no move to answer her question, only glanced playfully down at himself, and placed a hand on his well-toned chest. "You really want to do that right now?"

"That's why I've been saying for the last ten minutes—get your clothes on!"

He made a face but much to her relief, he finally pulled away. "Fine. I'm only doing it because you wouldn't be able to function properly with me distracting you."

"Bold of you to assume I ever function properly," she mumbled under her breath. When he finally replaced the towel with a pair of pants, she decided it was safe to stop suffocating herself with the pillow and look up. The first thing her eyes landed on was his weirdly manicured feet attached to well-muscled legs. Heck, she's never bothered to get her nails done before and he did for his feet.

Weirdddd.

Kieran seemed to notice her attention on him even with his back to her. He slowly but antagonizing pulled on a white shirt, looking awfully disappointed as he was doing so.

She stifled a sigh. This boy probably walks around naked.

When he was done, he disappeared into HER bathroom and threw the towel somewhere before coming over to plop onto HER bed. Not clear enough, hmm? She threw him a cold side-eye and shuffled to the other end of the bed, stopping precariously at the edge.

"You still haven't answered my question."

"If you get a medal?" He hummed, leaning forward on a hand. "You can have me if you like—"

"The bungee jumping offer still holds. And I liked you better when you were rolling on the floor wasted and calling for a 'Leo-chan.'"

His face turned many shades paler. "W-what?"

Sorry, dad. It took her all to not burst out laughing. I told a little white lie. It's too funny to stop now though. "Yeah," she nodded grimly. "You were crying about your boo-boo and you wanted Leon to kiss it better. Had to stick a pacifier in your mouth to make you shut up."

The look on his face was almost as good as Tristan's when (Y/n) delivered her Tristan 2.0 comment. "You're lying," Kieran coughed awkwardly. "Everyone tells me I'm either an adorable or sexy drunk."

"Then they're lying to you." She let out a sympathetic sigh and shook her head. "They were just nice enough to save you from the embarrassment. But had they told you earlier, LeoRan would've been a thing by now—"

"For the last time, (Y/n)-chan, I don't swing that way!"

"Really? I thought you were fine with both genders."

"Not in a serious relationship!" His cheeks were slightly pink—in embarrassment or frustration. "I screw up one time and you're still holding it against me. I don't need this on top of all the sh*t I'm dealing with. My parents—"

He broke off, his eyes widening slightly as if he's said something he shouldn't have. (Y/n) caught on instantly. "Your parents what?"

But he was shaking his head, moving away from her. "My parents nothing. Nothing at all."

Lies. She didn't have to be a genius to tell he was keeping something from her. "Are they coming here?"

"Of course not."

That was all she needed to know. (Y/n) quieted, deciding not to pry into it and only watched as he shuffled around the room in search of the clothes he was wearing last night. He nearly tripped over Tristan 2.0, a curse exploding out of his mouth as he did so.

If she asked him about his well being like she did what felt like an eternity ago, she was sure he'd answer the same way again. That he was alright. That he was still the annoying, uncaring flirt as usual. That the drunken episode was a one-time thing. It never happened.

She wasn't so sure of that.

She pulled her laptop out from under her pillow with a heavy sigh and opened it. The red dot that pinpointed Jasper's location was nowhere near her room now. He appeared to be in the forest flanking the dormitory. Waiting. Watching. Could he see Kieran was in her room right now?

"I've sent some stuff to you," the (h/c)-haired girl said, opening up her email and attaching a bunch of files to it. When she received the laptop, she discovered a sticky note on the inside with various email addresses written on it in Tristan's elegant cursive. The P4's, no doubt. "Hope they keep you busy enough to not make you want to crash my room again."

Kieran glanced over at her briefly, confusion sparking in his bright eyes. "I don't watch po—"

"Don't say the p-word you bugger," she scowled. A small grin appeared on his unusually distraught face. "They're movies and choreography. I had them saved on my email when Izzie sent them to me." The mention of her friend's name sent another arrow of pain through her but she pushed it away. This wasn't the time to mourn—she wasted enough time doing that already.

"Choreography?" He echoed, spinning around to face her.

"You said you danced. And you look like a Fifty Shades of Grey person so enjoy all the very questionable films I sent you. And mind you—I haven't watched them and I don't plan to."

His eyes fell to the silver computer and he bit back a grin. "Trish-chan gave you that?"

"No, I stole it." One look at his eyes told her he might not have picked up on her sarcasm. "Obviously he did."

Surprise and what looked like irritation, strangely enough, flickered across his face before he plastered a suggestive grin over it. "Sounds like an excuse for you to get into my room," he purred. "Did you want a viewing party? I'd be more than happy to oblige—"

"I've yet to go into any one of your rooms and I really don't want to start. Okay, you can go now. Shoo, shoo." She even got off the bed and began waving him out the door for emphasis.

He let her push him to the doorway before stopping her with a hand on the frame. "Does that mean we'll use your room instead?"

Her room had a flatscreen T.V. installed into it that could be displayed with a press of a button but (Y/n) wasn't about to let him get any more ideas. "I'm sure z—Leon would be more than happy to watch it with you. How about you ask him?" She shoved at him harder but it was like pushing at a wall. Or a Yeti.

Kieran gazed down at her, at her angry scowl that didn't touch her eyes. There was a small flutter in his heart at the sight. He suddenly didn't want to leave her side. "I guess I could go," he drawled. "But then there'll be nothing keeping Jay from knocking." Even suggesting that made his chest ache almost painfully.

And he was fine with that.

His wild stab had been more precise than he thought. The (h/c)-haired girl looked conflicted; obviously she still wasn't too happy with the idea of being near the blond again. She chewed on her lip, the action completely innocent and instinctual but it was the last thing Kieran needed to see right now.

"So?" He said, his voice hoarse with want. "I heard Heathers is a pretty good movie to watch."

"From who, another one of your girlfriends?"

Hope made his pulse spike up before he quickly squashed it. A little part of him wanted that undertone in her voice he detected to be jealousy. He wanted to know how it felt if that unconditional loyalty of hers she had for her friends was directed towards him. A little part that continued to hope, the feeling feeding it as it grew and grew.

He lowered his head, not missing the way she subtly leaned away. Where once he might've been turned off or hurt, it only made him smile. "I don't do girlfriends," he whispered. "Unless you wanted to change that?"

"The amount of hair on your head is the only thing changing here," was her sarcastic reply. "Do you take 'I just want to sleep so no' for an answer?"

"Hmm..." He pretended to actually consider the idea. "I will under one condition."

"You don't call the shots here. This is my sleeping area which kinda makes it my room."

"And you forget that doesn't apply to me. I could pin you to this wall right here and have my wicked way with you but I'm not doing that, aren't I?" His eyes, dark and cold, and his deceptively smooth voice nearly made her think he was being serious until she spied the hint of a smirk on his lips and she nearly rolled her eyes.

"You're amazing at inviting people to watch a movie with you."

"I don't invite them," he winked. "They usually throw themselves at me. I'm not a patient person."

I can tell. (Y/n) let him take her up an elevator and to the third floor where his rooms were. Each one of the P4 had a floor to themselves; the second floor where (Y/n) was belonged to Leon. The third to Kieran, the fourth to Jaehyun, and the top belonged to unsurprisingly enough, Tristan. The ground floor was the kitchen, lobby, and all that good stuff.

Kieran's floor was much more austere and clean than she expected. Honestly, (Y/n) wasn't too sure what she was expecting. Flashy things, maybe. A guy's room pulled straight out of a chick flick. The only guy's room she's ever seen was Reese's and his room wasn't a good comparison. She didn't think every guy would have random mangas and DVDs lying around their room, not to mention the Marvel figurines and costume props strewn across his room from his club.

And Kieran, who appeared even less uncaring about tidiness than (Y/n) was, had a much cleaner space than she did. And he had an entire floor.

He saw her gaping at the pristine marble hallways and large windows that overlooked the gardens. "Having seconds thoughts about leaving? I could always ask Trish-chan to move your room here...though there's no point since we'll be leaving this place soon."

There it was again. Leaving. The mention of the four abandoning the dorm and moving to some other mansion together and taking her with them made her heart stop. She couldn't tell anymore—she already broke the monitor she always wore, and she couldn't exactly waltz up to them and ask for a replacement.

And her past—Jaehyun's father—

She didn't think she'd be able to see the boy's face again without seeing the man in white in him.

Kieran's room was the same size as hers, if not bigger. There was barely any furniture, only the basic necessities for a bedroom. A framed painting hung over the large bed. It was beautiful, a mosaic of purples, blues, and whites depicting a moon in the sky and a world of endless sapphire waters. There was a pool of silver near the middle as if someone had deliberately poured liquid moonlight into the water, and a single girl sitting in the middle of it all.

"Gumusservi," Kieran breathed into her ear from over her shoulder. "Moonlight shining on water. I needed some decoration so Jay gave it to me."

She was surprised. She didn't think the two got along. "He gave it to you willingly?"

A woeful smile wrung his lips. "Does that surprise you?" He crossed the floor and took a seat on the cushioned bench at the foot of the black and white bed. He patted the spot next to him and gestured for her to come over. "Don't worry. I don't bite."

"That's not very reassuring." She opted to sit on the floor instead, distracting herself with the beautiful vase of flowers perching on a long wooden dresser under the T.V. A low chuckle rumbled through his chest as he joined her on the floor. He watched her scoot away with an amused grin.

"Nervous?"

She snorted and straightened her back. "Hardly. Now hurry up. Sooner it ends the sooner I can leave."

"Hurts to hear you want to leave my company so soon, (Y/n)-chan..."

"Well, sucks for you then."

The movie was okay. The introduction was pretty bizarre. I mean, how many Heathers does one school need? She watched the film with a raised eyebrow. Veronica, the protagonist's situation nearly made her laugh. It reminded her a little of her situation, minus the blowing up part. In a way (Y/n)'s was worse—Westerburg High had a bunch of drama, sure, but at least it only had one psychopathic maniac bent on murder. Fortuna had an entire student body and staff of wannabe sociopaths and psychopaths.

So which was worse? (Y/n) thought the answer was pretty obvious.

Some time through the movie Kieran had snuck away and returned with a bowl of her favorite snacks without her noticing. She barely realized the bowl wasn't there before as she reached over and popped a handful into her mouth. Probably a stray ninja. Don't question it.

As the credits rolled, she leaned back against the bench to notice that Kieran was sitting awfully close to her. Closer than he should be when she last looked. He noticed her glaring at him and he grinned back.

"Were you watching me instead of the movie? Didn't know you liked me so much~"

I hope he eats a popsicle and chokes on it.

A realization sparked in her head as she turned away from those tantalizing honeyed orbs. He never did tell her the real reason why he was drunk. "You're really good at misdirection," she commented. "Why did you come into my room last night?"

His face clouded faster than she thought possible. "It's nothing," he said, his eyes now stormy like the ocean at dusk. "I walked into the wrong room."

Does this usually happen? Is this not the first time? What happened? Questions marched through her head and threatened to spill off her tongue, though it wasn't in her interest to ask. Normal (Y/n) wouldn't have cared. Normal (Y/n) wouldn't have thought twice. She would've ignored the drunkard and went on sleeping.

But she wasn't normal (Y/n) anymore.

"I'm not going to ask you not to drink," she finally said with a sharp intake of breath. "I have no right to. But know that...well, if stuff gets annoying I'm more than willing to prepare that bungee cord for you. I'll even set it up on the roof."

That got him to crack a smile and relax. "You're not going to stop until I do it, are you?"

"Was it that obvious?"

Kieran was thankful she didn't try to pry further. Though he was a little curious to see her reaction if she knew just how f*cked up he really was, he was more desperate to keep it from her. If she knew...if she found out...she'd treat him the same as everyone else.

Or maybe she wouldn't. Birds of a feather.

"You think..." A small tug at his sleeve drew his attention back to her. There was a worried furrow between her eyebrows as she looked at the door of his room. "You think s—Jay calmed down now?"

"The kid switches between personalities faster than I switch girls." He winced at the joke. Ouch. He hadn't thought much of it before he said it but now he did, it really did hurt, even if it was the truth.

Fortunately (Y/n) didn't look affected, much less amused. "Oh." Kieran didn't know what it was, but something was going on in that cute little head of hers. A plan, no doubt. Something to pull the rug from under them all. He was glad for the cover of the darkness from the closed lights; it hid the small smirk that threatened to spread wider. If only she knew...

He bit back a groan as she shifted her attention away from the door, the action shifting her hair and letting a fresh wave of her scent wash over him. Something fruity. Something like raspberries.

(Y/n) suddenly looked worried as she placed her hands on both sides of her feet and pushed herself up. "I need to check something," she told the male, not quite looking at him. "It'll only take a second."

"Need me to walk you back?"

She opened her mouth as if to refuse but thought better of it. "Yeah. That would be helpful. Thanks, Kieran."

The sound of his name, a name he once hated, on her lips sent a delicious shudder through his veins. "Follow me." He had to get her out of there before he did something he regretted.

Not that he hasn't done it already.

As they walked, afternoon faded into night as dusk chased away the last of the sun's fiery knife points, replacing it with a river of stars and velvety shadows. The elevator ride down was anything but quiet, with her and Kieran's usual banter; his innocent and not-so-innocent flirting, and her snarky rejecting responses as she did her best to wipe away a smile at his teasing. Kieran was an amusing person, for the better or the worse.

He walked her all the way to her room with more cordiality than she expected from the flirt. He stopped in front of a door, his signature smirk back in full bloom.

"If I ask nicely, will you let me stay the night, princess?"

"In your dreams, buddy."

He only winked at her, unfazed by the negative response. "Wouldn't you like to know what I dream of?"

"No, I really don't." She slipped through the door and began to close it, narrowing her eyes at the male. "I'm locking the door. You can't come in."

"Well, Leo-chan removed the lock so you can't—"

Of course, he did. She clicked her tongue in irritation. "I have ways. Just don't come here again."

"I don't make promises I can't keep."

"You—!" She scowled at his retreating figure as he jogged backward, waving at her as he did so.

"See you bright and early in the morning tomorrow, sunshine!"

"Seriously, stop with the nicknames!"

Kieran couldn't have known exactly how on-point his offhand comment was. Only a few hours after she fell asleep, a loud crash downstairs snapped her out of her dreamless slumber and back to the real world. And she wasn't the only one awake.

Downstairs, she was greeted with the sight of Kieran leaning against a couch while bleeding heavily with a knife lodged in his arm, as Leon held back the very navy blue-haired male (Y/n) had been concerned about.

Jasper.

Well, fudge bunnies.