━━━━༻ ♥ ༺━━━━ execute 01110100 ━━━━༻ ♥ ༺━━━━

What teenager in their right mind would ever spend their precious free time reading newspapers? Tristan Knight would apparently. What felt like millenniums went by before he finally got finished his reading—yes, the boy had the audacity to pick up another book after the newspaper—before going back to his PC building. I guess even he has things he hates doing. I just found one of them.

This was Tristan's form of procrastination and it would've made her laugh if she wasn't still hiding in his closet. Her legs were starting to cramp so she had to stand up. Then sit back down. And stand back up again when she got bored.

Well, I didn't give him a time limit, she mused as she watched him finally leave. Only then did she dare to crack the closet door open and crawl out. Now, what do I do? I distracted him for a pretty long time, I think. He's going to hate me for doing this to him but he has enough perseverance. He'd be fine after a few weeks. Maybe.

Her plan was to maybe convince Kieran to swipe the key from the blue-haired male under the pretense it was actually hers. She doubted he'd believe it but what other choice did she have? And there was also the matter of convincing him in the first place. She doubted he'd do it for free. To her, Kieran was akin to a cat or fox. Favors weren't his thing.

She had no idea how to make him do it, but she had to somehow. Maybe she could try to appeal to his interests again? Though Kieran looked more amused by entertaining her idea of apologizing with her collection of media than the movies and videos themselves, even if she had caught him practicing in his dance room last time when he claimed he'd grown bored of it.

There was always the second option, which was one (Y/n) whole-heartedly refused to touch upon no matter all. It did seem like it would work if she had the guts and no shame to carry it out—and excited Kieran was more likely to bend to her will.

Yuck. There was no way that was happening. She'd rather chug down a whole bathtub of her most hated food than do that, even if someone paid her. (Y/n) muttered a swift curse under her breath and decided to leave the bedroom first. Whatever she was going to do, it would work out somehow. She was pretty good at bullsh*tting tests in school after all, and anything she did would be more productive than hiding among Tristan's clothes.

She opened the door and quietly closed it behind her. The walls had ears, she knew. At least they didn't have eyes.

Or maybe they did. She stared at the stick figure drawing of Tristan she had painted on the wall. It got uglier each time she looked at it, but the real thing was the exact opposite. Not that she found him attractive or anything. A pretty face was worth nothing compared to the person underneath.

Ew, now she sounds like a protagonist of a romance book. Gross.

Speaking of annoying pretty people, one in particular was smirking wildly as he watched the (h/c)-haired girl from behind, debating whether to inform her of his presence or jump scare her. The second option was more flattering, he determined, and stealthily like a cat, he crept closer until the distance between them was almost nonexistent.

"Spying on people isn't a flattering trait," he whispered into her ear. "You're bolder than I thought, love."

He cackled madly as she spun around and stumbled back at the same time, her back slamming against the wall. "Y-you should've seen the look on your face," Kieran spluttered in between laughs. "Never gets old."

"I'm pretty sure I hate you now," she scowled, her surprise fading quickly. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Only 'pretty sure?' Told you we're improving. Next thing you know, you'd be falling for my charms."

She side-stepped his wink and rolled her eyes. "And that's getting old. You say I'm spying but you're spying on me."

"No, I happened to see you come out of the prick's room." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. He waggled his eyebrows. "And I was just in there too. Were you spying on me or him? I didn't know you wanted to see me so badly."

"Oh yes, next time I want my eyes to bleed out I'll call you over."

He winced, but didn't really look hurt. "Harsh." The male swiftly recovered. "No evading the question, love. What were you doing there? Were you in his closet?"

The look on her face was all the answer he needed and he almost fell over laughing. "Hiding in his clothes!" He snickered, covering his mouth. "I need to know—how many pairs of glasses does he own?"

With a straight face, she answered without missing a beat. "More than twenty, that's for sure."

She watched as he doubled over in laughter, spluttering something about how Tristan complains about them breaking all his pairs but still having so many replacements. She found a corner of her lips tilting upwards against her will. Even though she had to be cautious around the white-haired male, it didn't feel like she was walking on a thin line like with the others.

This is my chance! (Y/n) needed to coax him into stealing the key off Tristan. Knowing the stoic male, she guessed it would be either in his pockets or around his neck. But he always wore a buttoned-up collar unless he was playing basketball so she couldn't tell.

...Basketball!

She suddenly had a Eureka moment. "Come with me." Without offering any more explanation, she seized Kieran's hand and began dragging them in the direction of Tristan's library. He was a little caught off guard at first but did not resist. Questions bloomed on the tip of his tongue but he held them back. A small smile graced his lips as he gazed down at her determined form which seemed much smaller at this angle. Her hand was practically dwarfed by his and even so, she had a spirit he both admired and envied.

How one person could be so resolute used to confuse him. Why bother putting in any effort? Everything came easily to him anyway. Talent, looks, money, influence, fame...he had it all and could throw it away just as easily. It was only pain he didn't have. Pain and true love.

He had it now.

(Y/n) kicked open the library door with her foot. As expected, Tristan was there. He had managed to get his hands on some of the parts, but she could see he was still missing a lot of them. The male looked up, startled by their entrance.

"Let's take a break," she announced, kind of forgetting she was still holding Kieran's hand. "Snowman over here reallyyy wants to play ball. Like really, really wants to."

The said male blinked in surprise and pointed at himself. "I do?"

She jabbed him softly with her elbow. "Yup, you do!" She said loudly with a pointed look aimed at him. "Righttt?"

Whatever she was trying to do, it was interesting to see how it would turn out so Kieran decided to play along for now. "Yeah, for sure. So hyped."

Tristan looked back and forth between the two. "And...you're telling me this why?"

"Because he realllly wants to play with our resident NBA star," (Y/n) explained. "And you could use a break."

"Well, I actually don't need—"

"Yes, you do!" She dropped Kieran's hand and began tugging Tristan out of his chair. "You look like your head's about to explode at any second now, right? Great, let's go!"

She didn't let him protest as she began pushing him out of the library. She stopped at the exit to look over her shoulder at Kieran. "You coming?"

"Right behind you," Kieran said with a half-smile. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes and then was gone. Only then did he allow his mask to crumble. For some reason the simple action of her releasing his hand made his heart ache. The pain only grew even more when he watched her run up to the blue-haired male. He did say he wanted to finally be able to feel pain...but emotional pain was so much more than he bargained for.

It ripped at him from within, dragging steel-tipped claws down his insides and drawing blood. Fire and ice clashed within him. It was a war that ravaged his everything, the inferno growing and growing until his body couldn't take it anymore.

It was a matter of time before he exploded.

Uh, what now? (Y/n) stood awkwardly between the two as they glared at each other in the gym. To be fair, Kieran had his signature smirk on and Tristan was the one glaring. Something had happened during their argument that she hadn't caught. Now she was beginning to regret all her life's decisions.

"I didn't think you have any interest in this sport," Tristan said coldly. "Didn't you call it a game for barbarians?"

"People change," Kieran quipped with a sly look. "Wouldn't you know best?"

Tristan's jaw clenched. "Fine. I'll entertain you a bit." He loosened his collar and pulled his jacket off, throwing it to the side. Kieran's sardonic grin widened as he followed suit, rolling up his sleeves.

As the atmosphere got more heated, a spark of competition igniting in both of their eyes, (Y/n) was being (Y/n) as usual. She watched Tristan's jacket arch through the air and land on the ground. As soon as the blue-haired male's back was turned and they moved towards the court, she zoomed towards it and began her search.

There weren't many pockets, thankfully. She stuck her hands in them and pulled them out with nothing but a ballpoint pen in one and a brooch in the other. No key. She even shook it but nothing else was in the pockets. It had to be on him then. She turned her attention back towards the two boys.

The squeaking of shoes on the polished floor and the bouncing of the basketball were the only sounds that echoed through the large court. Kieran was on the offensive—he had somehow gotten his hands on the ball and was enjoying taunting Tristan a little too much. The other male growled in frustration as Kieran pulled off some elaborate footwork that could only be seen in street basketball and not the professional version. Fitting, especially since Kieran hated rules and Tristan was defined by them.

Despite the pressure Kieran was putting on him, Tristan was no amateur. The two played at a level that would awe even the professionals. They mad every single shot; their accuracy was almost terrifying.

Kieran said something to Tristan that (Y/n) couldn't hear. Whatever it was, it succeeded in irking the stoic male as he snapped something back. Tristan moved away from the three-pointer line and straight towards the basket as Kieran shadowed him, no doubt trying to provoke him all the way.

(Y/n) crouched down against the wall and squinted at the two. As Tristan went up for a dunk, there was a glimmer of silver as something beneath his shirt flew up under the light. It had to be what she thought it was. Score!

Now the tricky part: how to get it off him. Either she camped out in his room again and wait for him to fall asleep, which was unlikely to happen since after this she'd probably be locked in again, or she got Kieran to help somehow.

She'd have better luck starting an alien invasion.

BASE:MENT ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ мєαηωнιℓє

Reese was beginning to get real bored in his room, especially without a T.V. to watch the next episode of BNHA and his collection of manga. At least he wasn't completely forgotten down here; food was delivered to him every day. He tried escaping the first few days but failed, and Tristan got so fed up with his attempts he handcuffed the redhead's hands together.

Using the bathroom was starting to become a real pain because of that.

But anyway, the only thing he could do when he got bored was either swim in the bathtub—which was still bigger than the one he had in Autumn Dorm—or sing anime opening songs obnoxiously loud. Specifically Tokyo Ghoul.

Which got his mouth duct-taped once but hey, their fault for not soundproofing his room.

Reese clinked his handcuffs together and tried again to summon his inner Saiyan to break them. It didn't work. Figures. His hair, which was usually either tied up in or in a braid, now hung loosely around his shoulders. He blew his bangs out of his face and collapsed onto the bed, completely and utterly bored.

Not to mention worried. Tristan Knight liked—no, loved (Y/n). That thought by itself was absurd to him. From his brief meeting with the guy when his father introduced him to the headmaster, Tristan was someone who would only marry because he needed an heir for his family. A political marriage. Not one out of love.

When they first met, Reese instantly decided Tristan was someone he should stay away from. With his father's position, the redhead could've easily become one of the P4. But he didn't want to. Why would he want to join a group of a**holes when he could be with his best friend?

The mention of her name made his ire fade and his heart warm. A smile crept onto his face and the air filled with a tenderness that made his breathing slow even as his heart quickened. Thinking of her always made things better. He thought of the time the two snuck into Mr. Wright's classroom after he was gone to steal more of his cookies. Or when she, although reluctantly, bailed him out of detention with Mr. Rayne.

Not to mention all the times in the past she invited him over so she didn't have to endure her father and Elijah's movie nights alone. Aaron White and Elijah got along a little too well. The dad jokes were overwhelming.

(Y/n) thought he didn't know, but Reese knew she came from a troubled background before her adoption. When he first found out she wore a heart monitor to help her prevent any more panic attacks, he wanted to confront her about it. But then he didn't. It was something she probably didn't want to talk about and he respected that. He'd let her keep her secrets as long as she remained by his side and didn't hide any big ones.

But things changed.

Reese couldn't simply knock guys out or steal their love letters to prevent them from confessing to the (h/c)-haired girl anymore. Actually, he could and he did, as long as they were normal guys and were not in the P4.

Everything was going well until they interfered. (Y/n) showed no signs of wanting to get into a relationship. She didn't have any crushes—that made him a little concerned about her sexuality once—and Reese was able to control his hormones. Barely. Next came the Game. He supposed he was pretending when he said he had no idea what was happening.

He wasn't lying. He'd never lie to her. He was just withholding the truth. He simply decided not to tell her he knew exactly who was going to die because he knew it would hurt her. That wasn't his fault, was it? Reese knew what was best for her. He knew exactly what things would cheer her up and what things would break her.

Reese supposed Jasper and the others were good people. He wasn't pretending when he was with them. They were fun to hang around but ultimately, (Y/n) was more important. They were just another pawn in his game. Just another stepping stone for him to use to strengthen his relationship with (Y/n).

In a way, he was grateful to them. They were good friends until the end, even going as far as dying for the two of them to be together. Everything had been going well. Reese and (Y/n) would win and he'd wish for them to have the same classes next year and the year after that. Nothing too obvious like sharing a dorm with her that would betray his intentions. He didn't want to get on the bad side of her father if he was to become his father-in-law in the future.

And the P4 had to come in and ruin all his plans. The perfect world Reese was building just for the two of them...it had no room for anyone else. He'd have to get rid of the intruders somehow.

"Just wait a little longer, (N/n)," he whispered, as if she could somehow hear him. "We'll be together again soon. Just a little longer..."

He was good at waiting. He's done it for 16 years already, after all. And he wasn't about to let some nobodies who've only known her for a few weeks to take her away from him.

She was his.

Then he thought of Tristan's words in his last conversation with him. The male was growing more and more suspicious of him with each passing day...that might be a problem. Tristan had no regard for others; Reese knew the male would tear ruthlessly into him until he dragged the truth out of the redhead. And then he'd expose it all to (Y/n).

That was the last thing Reese wanted to see happen. Because even if they were two close friends linked by time and memories, he had some lingering doubts she'd take the information well. Friendship, though he hated to admit it, was brittle. Friends could break it off with you at the drop of a hat. They owed you nothing.

Lovers on the other hand...Reese would tell her after everything worked out and he tied her to his side for good. Not now. It was too early. She might run away. That wouldn't be...ideal.

For starters, how was he going to tell her that his older brother Carter, who was like a brother to (Y/n) too, was dead?

And...it was Reese's fault.

TEMPUS:DORM ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ ℓαtєя

Things were not going as planned. (Y/n) wanted to use—that word didn't make her feel so good—Kieran to get the key to Reese's cell from Tristan. The two had gotten way too caught up in their basketball match which meant she had to stay the whole duration to watch it and plot at the same time. Sooner after did Tristan snap out of his competitive flame and realize that the (h/c)-haired girl was not in her room as she should be.

"I did not break out of the room," (Y/n) insisted as she sat with her knees folded under her. "I want that known in this court."

"This is not a trial, (Y/n)," Tristan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It sure feels like one though.

Kieran was leaning against the wall behind him, sporting a fresh bruise on his upper arm while his signature smirk was back on full blast. "I'm the witness here," he purred. "Need a testimony, love?"

"I'll smack you with a broom you overgrown yeti-looking arse—"

Tristan shook his weary head and seemed to deflate. She could see the exhaustion on his face. "It should've been locked," he said in a strained voice. "That was my fault. But that doesn't excuse the fact you were sneaking around. And," he glared at Kieran. "What were you doing with her?"

The white-haired male grinned cheekily at him and then winked at the female. "I plead the fifth."

(Y/n) was starting to like Kieran a little more.

Tristan covered his face and let his hand fall with an annoyed exhale. "Again, this is not a court of law. This is my gym. Answer my question."

"What, can't a guy come to hang out with his dearest childhood friend?" Kieran slung an arm around Tristan's shoulders and gestured to nothing in particular. "You know, we have a lot of reminiscing to catch up on. Let's talk about the time you wet your pants—"

Tristan pushed his arm off him with a disgusted look. "You're fooling no one. And for your information, I was a neat child. Not a bed wetter."

"You have no childhood. Oh, the horror."

"And you." Tristan gave her a sharp look. "You didn't hear a word of my warning, did you? You went ahead and dragged Fujikawa into whatever foolishness you're planning again."

"Is that a rhetorical question?" (Y/n) asked innocently.

"In my defense," Kieran chimed in. "She was looking extra cute today and I was saving her from dying of boredom. For all your talents, Trish-chan, you need to do better at entertaining the ladies." He winked at her. "They might get bored and bail on you."

Tristan was not impressed. "I take it you know firsthand?"

"Why is everyone bullying me today?"

"It's okay." (Y/n) reached out and patted his arm like an old buddy would. "There's plenty of sea in the fish."

Kieran stared at her hand on his arm and then her, confused. "Don't you mean fish in the sea?"

"That's what I said. Sea in the fish."

"Deflecting the question doesn't mean I'll forget it," Tristan interrupted. "You should be in your room."

"And you should be building that PC." A sardonic grin flashed over her face. "And are you?"

His eyes flashed dangerously and in them, she saw a rise of silver-blue. When he blinked, it had dimmed. "You're terrible at following directions," he sighed, but there was no bitterness in his tone. It was a sort of helplessness in that he knew there was no stopping her.

"Please and thank you~" Kieran said in a mocking singsong.

Tristan shot him a sharp glare. "You're insufferable."

Kieran shrugged and made a "what can I say?" gesture. He bent down and picked up a stray basketball which he threw in Tristan's direction with enough force to knock someone like (Y/n) over. "Thanks for the compliment."

Tristan caught the ball in both hands. "It wasn't a compliment," he said curtly. "And why are you still here?"

"Good question, but the answer's obvious." He did that thing tall people do to annoy short people; he used the top of (Y/n)'s head as an armrest and leaned on her, much to her annoyance. "I just had to get my daily dose of your awe-inspiring presence, Trish-chan. Your glares really hit different today. Did you change your cologne?"

(Y/n) pushed him off her with a large scowl. "You're heavy. You're going to break my neck."

"Why is everyone so curious about my cologne...?" Tristan muttered incredulously under his breath. He cleared his throat and said in a louder voice, "The offer to be demoted to cleaning duty still stands."

"Ha, joke's on you. You're not my boss."

"Alright. Then allow me to do a much-needed spring cleaning of your room—"

"Anything but that!"

As amusing as Tristan and Kieran's love-hate (mostly hate) relationship was to watch, she still had to somehow get that key without Tristan immediately catching her. There was always the option of trying to snatch it off, possibly strangling him or more realistically getting her in deeper trouble, but she doubted she could pull that off.

Actually...that wasn't a bad idea at all!

So here's the plan. She began working out a little plan in her head as the two bickered. I'll get applesauce, "accidentally" spill it on Tristan, and then get Tristan 2.0 to attack him. Hopefully one of us will get the key as I pretend to "help" him. Then BOOM. GG.

The plan sounded dumb when she went over it again in her head but it couldn't be that bad. Right?

If applesauce doesn't work, I'll use ketchup or something.

Cue the bad acting.

"Can I get a snack?" (Y/n) piped up. The two stopped arguing to look at her. "Watching you two do your thing made me hungry. So, can I?"

Tristan frowned. "I'm not your father, (Y/n). You don't have to ask."

"But if I ran off you'd give me another lecture, dad."

"...Again, I'm not your father."

"He may not be your father," Kieran interjected with a wicked grin. "But you're more than welcome to call me da—OW, MY HEAD!"

Tristan Knight had acquired a new skill: head chop.

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A/N: Updates are probably going to be in the afternoon (my afternoon) because of SATs :((

Whose ending are you looking forward to the most?