Asa gets a basic rundown of her classes from her counselor the very next day who looks way younger than even the princess.

“So, everything looks good on paper?” Her counselor, Mrs. Gammon, questions as she points to the list of classes on her schedule.

Mrs. Gammon proceeds to explain the block scheduling. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays—Asa has all seven of her classes. Wednesdays are even number classes, and henceforth Thursdays are odd number classes.

Her counselor also explains the curfew of the boys and girls dormitory. The gates to the school will be locked at midnight on weekdays. On weekends, they’re to be locked at three in the morning. However, the dormitory is strictly for students that do not house with their parents in the nearby towns.

Asa doesn’t really care to ask why the school system is so oddly specific and vague at the same time, but she knew that schools like this were basically oligarchies. They were fed by the wealthy, so the administration had particularly no say.

For one, they were required to wear uniforms, but it wasn’t exactly enforced. So far, she’s seen half the girls wear thin joggers under their skirts. If not, the skirts were pulled up, giving everyone an eyeful of lace underwear and round cheeks.

The boys, on the other hand, had a more lax attitude with the dress code. Some wore ties, some didn’t—basically, if you wore the school colors, navy, white, something checkered of the two, you were deemed appropriate.

Asa liked to wear hers tastefully. The royal family had strict codes, but she never liked to let those codes weigh down on her individuality.

Her mother, in the beginning, forced her to maintain her image, but after a long four-year battle, Asa had weathered the woman down. She’d gone on headlines for always dressing so outrageously for a royal.

But it wasn’t outrageous. Sue her for dressing like girls her age. She’d known how the patriarchy affected the throne, but no one talked about how it affected how people saw women and how women were basically bred to be good, or whatever standard of that was to be worthy for a man.

Asa wasn’t a domestic animal. She wouldn’t be tied down by anyone’s haste.

So maybe this was all a blessing disguised as a curse. Here, Asa didn’t look so off. She didn’t get stares because she was royalty. No, she was probably just sought off like any rich brat here.

She’d gotten a few stares from people, but she’d assumed it was the combination of her ambiguous features and coppery hair.

When Asa was born, she’d been treated like an illegitimate child because of her appearance. But the joke’s on them. All the years of imperialists colonization and mixing of the genetic pool finally caught up to them, and out came a babe that looked unlike her dirty blonde and brunette family.

She was basically the entirety of Europe. Frankly, neither parent claimed her so she no longer paid any mind to people’s judgments.

Her first class was senior lit with—

“Excuse me!” A boy her age brushes past her, pushing himself through the door despite the width constraints.

Asa is knocked out of the way, and in comes another person bristling by.

“Oh my gosh, sorry!” A female voice yelps when she trips over Asa’s legs.

The last warning bell rings loud and clear, and when Asa takes a peek inside the classroom that still looked a lot like a library to see everyone seated, she felt like an outlier.

Everyone seemed to know who they were and where they belonged. Unlike her, they’d probably been here since birth. She didn’t belong anywhere. Asa had been surrounded by tutors her entire life.

“If you’re not sitting down, you’re late.” His voice sends a familiar chill down her spine.

She marks his voice to the back of his classroom. It was him again. She inwardly cringes. This has to be some cruel joke.

His eyes meet hers. Not purposefully. Though accidental, it felt different. Like they couldn’t help it.

Asa awkwardly stumbles to the nearest empty seat. Alone. Toward the back.

He clears his throat, smiling at everyone.

“Morning, how did everyone sleep?” He asks, his eyes scanning the classroom to observe everyone.

The boy who bumped into her says, “we’re seniors, Mr. Oh.”

“Jaemin,” he says with a half-smile. “You’re planning on actually passing my class this year?”

Jaemin leans into his palm. “If I don’t fall asleep from your bedtime stories.”

He gets a shove from his friend, also the girl who bumped into Asa, “sorry, Mr. Oh. Don’t mind him.”

Mr. Oh smiles like none of this affects him. The lift of his lips was so easy and certain. Asa wonders what kind of life he had before this place.

“Well, you guys heard Jaemin. You’re seniors now. I had most of you freshman year, but I can see some new faces—“ His eyes meet hers again. Something playful dances in his irises.

Her heart speeds to an erratic pace.

“Welcome to my class. I’m Oh Sehun, and it’s Mr. Oh to you. I don’t really like grading homework, so don’t expect your assignments to be put in a timely manner.”

The girl speaks up again. “But what if we want to know where we stand GPA-wise?”

“Does that mean you won’t assign any papers?” A boy, sitting behind Jaemin, questions.

“Tough luck, Jisung,” Jaemin grumbles.

“For the first time, Jaemin is absolutely right. You know that’s not an option, guys. The school will put my head through the wringer.”

Jisung sighs with a theatricality that rivals even Asa’s very mother. “Teach, you’re supposed to be the cool teacher.”

Sehun proceeds to smile at that, directing it to everyone. “So cool that I’m assigning your first reading tonight.” Then, he winks. Right at Asa.

But it goes unnoticed by others. Probably because he’s done this before. From the comfort levels of her classmates, they’re all pretty close to him which means he’s definitely just teasing them.

But there was something else there that Asa couldn’t dissect. All her tutors kept a distance from her. An almost scary formality.

There’d been no friendships because the only goal was to enrich Asa with b knowledge.

Definitely no winks either. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but Asa had a feeling that Sehun meant trouble. The kind where you’d sink so far that you couldn’t bear to kick your feet up for air.

###

A couple of classes later, and Asa is stopped at her locker, struggling to even pull the hunk of metal open.

She hadn’t been too used to the mechanics of the American school system.

Most of the teachers here were to some degree—professional, but half of hers were terribly casual.

Not that it was a bad thing. Asa just had to get used to everything. It did seem like she’d be trapped here for a while.

Luka took it to himself to safe-proof her dorms. He was staying off-campus in an apartment provided to him by her family. His job was indeed to protect her, but within the gates of the prep school, it was kind of counterintuitive to have a guard.

It wasn’t like he could combat catty school girls or whatever else issues she might have.

Asa needed to keep a low profile, which meant she would be insane to get involved with anyone here. These were rich kids. Bored, rich kids who would grasp at anything for some entertainment. She wouldn’t put herself in anyone’s warpath.

As she tries to get her locker unstuck, someone approaches from behind her. Asa freezes, half-turning—not sure what to expect from this newcomer.

She watches him slam his hand on the door of her locker, and it works. Her locker does open. It doesn’t sound too great, but the work is done.

“Jeno,” he announces with a twist of his lips.

“What?”

“When someone gives you their name, you should probably do so too,” he answers playfully.

She snorts, crossing her arms. “Asa. Nice to meet you.”

“No surname? You famous or something?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she retorts.

Jeno shrugs. “I get it. I like to separate myself from my parents too.” He waves his fingers, signifying for her to follow him.

“Where are we going?” She asks, not sure why she’s following him.

“Lunch. Do you not eat?”

Asa gives him a stink-eye. To which his response is to cutely laugh. “I’m not looking for friends.”

“Perfect. I was just looking for a sugar baby. You interested?”

“You’re impossible,” she murmurs.

“Come on, Asa. Anorexia’s not a good look on you. You’re already skinny as a bag of bones,” he insists. “I mean—unless, you are. If so, my apologies for being insensitive.”

Asa holds a palm up. “No, what—“

“Silence is an admission,” he chirps.

“You didn’t let me finish, fool.”

“Guys! This is Asa. She’s a super celebrity,” Jeno announces when he finishes tugging her into the dining hall.

The dining hall is massive with wooden fixtures and high stained wood beams and equally high ceilings. This set the school apart from the American high school movies she’d seen growing up. Everything here was overdone and looked expensive. Everywhere she went, she could feel the place resonate with wealth.

Most likely from generous parental donations.

She recognizes three of them from her literature class alone.

Jaemin scrutinizes her appearances. “Oh, you’re the new girl.”

They sit, and from the looks that everyone is giving her, Asa feels a lot like she’s the star of a circus.

Jisung leans in way too far past the vicinity of her personal space. “Do you talk?”

“Yes,” she bites out, shooting him a weird look.

He hums with interest, “you have an accent. Where are you from?”

“Europe,” Asa hesitantly answers.

“Explains the refined demeanor you have going on,” Jeno comments offhandedly.

The only girl at the table other than her shakes her head. “Excuse them. They’ve never felt the touch of a woman. It’s embarrassing. Honestly. On another note, my name’s Mei. Nice to meet you, Asa.”

Asa returns the smile Mei gives her. Mei has long, black hair that curls ever so slightly. She has these big brown eyes that remind Asa of her favorite guard dog at home. At the thought of Winston, Asa feels a twinge of homesickness.

She misses the constant rainy skies. The smell of the earth. The quiet creaks of the aged castle. She did indeed hate the Vaduz Castle; yet, it’d been the only home that she knew. So missing the feeling of home wasn’t too far off.

Asa tunes out of their conversations, catching only some parts. There’s debate about the French teacher’s uality. They talk about the dance coming up. Sports. Student government business.

It only made her feel out of place. Her entire life was spent surrounded by people, yet Asa felt empty half of the time.

And the only plausible explanation behind that predicament? It was loneliness.

###

To Luka’s behest, Asa’s habit of sneaking out doesn’t simply stop at home. Nothing beats the rush of adrenaline she gets from padding through the dark hallways or scaling the walls of whatever floor she was on.

Now that she was wearing pants, Asa was protected from unruly breezes and the fear of tripping over her skirt.

She’d gone shopping earlier in the afternoon to get some essential clothes because Asa knew she would stand out too much in her expensive custom-made dresses and nightgowns. It would eventually come up somehow in conversations, so it was better to be safe than sorry.

Asa snuck into the library. Her only excuse had been the fact that she hadn’t had any time to go yet. Since this morning, her head was swimming with all of the newness she had to adjust to.

Her teachers weren’t shy with the stack of assignments they handed out either.

Until an hour prior, she was busy annotating the reading Sehun assigned this morning.

Asa found that she liked the reading more than she expected. Part of her trip to the library was to find more books from the same author.

The door isn’t locked when Asa attempts to open it. She easily slips between the small opening, letting the door quietly close behind her.

She almost jumps out of her skin when it dawns on her that she isn’t the only one here.

There are several lamps that are within the room.

Sehun was right. His classroom might’ve fooled her the first time, but it wasn’t going to fool her twice. The library was much grander now that she’s seeing it. It’s enormous with large shelves adorning every single square inch of the walls. She’s eye to eye with more books than she could ever imagine.

Speaking of the devil, it was indeed he. Though his back was turned to her, Asa quickly learned to recognize the silhouette of his back. Broad shoulders that tapered into an enviably thin waist. He was long, but he was anything but gangly.

Asa was tall, but he still managed a couple of inches above her. If they were close enough, she imagines that her nose could touch his chin.

She watches him for a couple of seconds, entranced by the gentle way he holds the book in one hand as he gingerly flips each page. Delayed by pauses as he takes his time.

He’s gorgeous in this lighting. She’d give him at least that.

Then, as if on cue, he looks up from the book in his hands and finds her.

Sehun doesn’t look surprised at all. In fact, the glimmer of amusement swimming his eyes tell her otherwise. “Hello, stranger.”

Asa walks toward him. “What are you doing here?”

He raises a brow at her question. “I have reasons to be here. You, on the other hand, don’t.”

“Are you going to tell anyone?” Though, Asa already knew what he’d tell her.

Sehun smiles mischievously. “I don’t know. Will you give me something in exchange for keeping your secret?”

Asa takes the book in his hand, observing the cover. “Tennyson?”

“You know Tennyson?”

“Of course, I do. Who doesn’t?”

“Your classmates.”

“Oh.” Asa takes in the silence that peruses the room for a minute or two. Then, she exhales. “What makes you like Tennyson?”

“My dissertation was on him,” Sehun answers.

“But?”

“But nothing. He was a strange man.”

“He was lonely,” Asa murmurs.

“Why do you say?”

“His poetry was madness. Mostly. I’d assumed that a man like that didn’t have a muse.”

“Maybe not a womanly muse,” Sehun considers. “He and Hallam were close. Some might even say they were lovers.”

Asa stares at him. “That’s a speculation.”

“I have a lot of speculations, love.”

“Like what?” Her question comes out breathless. Asa was right. Her nose did reach his chin. And if she turned her head any further, she could brush her lips against his.

The smell of his aftershave retreats when he pulls back. “Like you’re going down a dangerously narrow road.”

“I’m not,” she protests.

“Oh yeah?” He asks good-humoredly. “How about you start with not sneaking out after curfew?

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Or what?”

“Or…” She drawls softly. “I’ll tell everyone you were here with me.”

“Well played.”

Asa doesn’t know if she’s imagining this illicit feeling between them. She’s never felt this way for anyone. A desire that lights up inside of her when she’s near him.

Camilla used to tell her about feeling a connection with a certain somebody. Of course, in the same conversation, Asa let it go out the other ear. She never related so it didn’t matter then. But now…

She wasn’t a prude in the slightest, and she didn’t need to be one to know that this was deeper than lust.

He gave her a nervous chill, and the smile curving on his lips was far from innocent.

“Are you allowed to do this?” Asa asks, attempting to draw the lines again.

Sehun tilts his head. “Do what?”

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you want to me.” Asa definitely did not know what occurred to her at this moment.

He tsks. “In normal circumstances, I’d go with dinner first. I’m not a complete heathen.”

“Are you propositioning me?”

“No,” Sehun answers with a low dip in his voice. “Unfortunately, these aren’t normal circumstances.”

“Unfortunately?”

The smell of his aftershave is there again. Right in her vicinity. Asa holds her breath, waiting. He makes no move, merely staying a hair’s breadth away.

“Unfortunately,” he playfully surmises.

Asa fidgets from the way he continues to look at her. It may just be the dark. He could just have that smoldering thing going on with everyone.

She takes a seat at the nearest table, conveniently located a couple of feet from them. “So,” she begins, clearing . All these years of her mother forcing her to be a small-talker have come in handy. Now, especially, when she was actually nervous to talk to someone.

Asa wasn’t a people person but she could talk to a couple of hundreds of people at banquets and social events just fine. Sehun didn’t count. Obviously. She was still fidgeting.

“Why did you choose literature?”

Coincidentally, Sehun’s amused smile continues to play on his lips. “It’s fulfilling.”

Asa snorts. “Fulfilling? You must be kidding. It’s like an exclusive fight club solely formed around old, white men.”

“You’re not wrong,” he remarks. “But they still made really good points while directly oppressing women and people of color.”

“Funny.”

“What can I say? It’s good to be aware.”

“Okay,” she says with finality since he was still teasing her. “What’s so fulfilling about literature? Surely, it cannot be poetic white men that give you a torch.”

Asa finds that she likes the way Sehun considers everything carefully. The way he naturally pouts his lips before answering. He looks even better in the dark, only halfway lit by candescent lights.

“I like having a superiority complex. I find that forcing my opinions on a group of people with a lesser power dynamic exciting.”

“Ha, ha,” she murmurs blandly.

Sehun chuckles, brushing his fingers through his long, black strands. “It’s seducing and rather surprising. How a string of words merely connected by what people give specific meaning to can elicit tangible feelings.”

“You like the escapism?”

He toys with the idea. “Sure. I know people like mathematics because it gives them conclusion. Not always, yes, I know there are exceptions. But literature is flexible in a way that anyone can give whatever bull analysis they want. I can call Shakespeare a theatrical princess, and Jane Austen a lusting rabbit. Doesn’t make me more wrong than teachers who convince you that their opinion is the only correct one.”

Asa laughs, “right, throw on a doctorate and use professional jargon and that makes you an expert.”

“You get the idea.”

“And you choose a private boarding school for snooty kids?”

“Where else can I find a bunch of kids I can gaslight?”

“At least you won’t feel guilty.”

“Well, there you go.”

“So professional. Do a tie and a full suit come with it?”

“Why do you say?”

“Oh, you know, for personal reasons.”

“Do enlighten me. I’m bursting at the seams.”

“You’ll live,” Asa admonishes with a wave of her hand.

Sehun lifts a suspecting brow. “Oh, I’m afraid that I won’t.”

“Why? Are you a frog disguised as a prince? Do you need a kiss to save you?”

“Gender’s a social construct. What if I was sleeping beauty?”

“And I’m suddenly Maleficent? Do I have horns peeking out from my head or something?”

“Or something. Maybe I just wanted that kiss.”

Asa blinks, taking a long pause from their playful banter. “Are you…allowed to say that?”

Sehun snorts. “I’m not allowed to be in a room alone with you in the middle of the night. I’m afraid that we’re far past that.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Asa mutters.

He smiles at her. That’s it. That’s all he does, and suddenly Asa’s stomach gurgles with nervous excitement. Like she was on molly. But at least with molly, she wasn’t sober.

“It’ll be our secret,” he whispers. “Sweet dreams, princess.”

Then, he’s gone. Asa stares at the spot where he’d been previously standing. He was the first person to give her butterflies. But in the very same breath, he was also the person who taught her first class of the day.

Asa exhales a very long, dreaded breath, wondering if conductors jumped off of train wrecks or died with them.

[a/n] hey haha sorry i've been swamped with everything. but i've been getting the itch to write venus so here we are. this is literally too much cuteness for me. i'm SINGLE damn sehun chill with the flirting.