It’d been scary and confusing, but he’d been intrigued from the very moment Baikal had made his intentions known. Rabbit had eyes, he saw what everyone else did when he looked at the Brumal Prince. He’d already known the man was devilishly handsome, but now he also understood he was wickedly charming on top of that. A dangerous combination.
His nakedness in front of Void had been embarrassing at first, but he’d never had a complex about his body—just his playing—and he’d quickly forgotten all about feeling shameful the second Baikal had placed those fingers to his hole and shown him why everyone always went so crazy over sex.
He would have chosen a gentler partner for his first time, but he had to admit that Baikal was at least skilled in that department.
Since he was already trapped, wouldn’t it be better if he made the best of his situation? Besides, no matter what Void had said at the end there, the fact of the matter was, as soon as he’d discovered Rabbit was inexperienced, he’d backed off. Aside from a little sting and a lot of initial discomfort, he hadn’t harmed him in any way.
Rabbit narrowed his eyes at himself in the mirror.
Was that really something he should be grateful for? Shouldn’t it be a given that Void not go around hurting people for the hell of it?
With a sigh, he stepped out of the bathroom and continued getting ready for school. He’d considered skipping and practicing from home, but Professor Ludo had sent a message that morning about needing to see him, so he had to at least make an appearance. There was also the group project he’d been roped into doing for his Intergalactic Warfare class. They had a meeting in the East Quad at two.
Though most of his time was spent on music, Rabbit had worked extra hard to ensure he never dropped below the average in any of his other classes. Since there was no telling what he may or may not need in the future—if he was ever strong enough to escape the predestined one that had been assigned to him—and he didn’t want to risk shooting himself in the foot now by not keeping an open mind.
On his way out the door, he paused before grabbing the beiska bag, his instrument already safely tucked inside, Baikal’s never-ending questions repeating themselves in his mind.
How long had it been since he’d actually enjoyed playing?
Did he miss it?
Did he want that feeling back?
Light, could he even really recall what that feeling felt like in the first place? Whenever he thought about being on stage, his mind went right back to that person and how they—
His mouth firmed into a line and he tossed the strap of the bag over his shoulder. There was too much to do today already.
Wallowing in his misfortunes wasn’t on the agenda.
* * *
Part of Vail University had been constructed over a sprawling mangrove field, the entire East Quad a series of wooden bridges that overlapped and led every which way. Lightning oaks, large trees with high canopies that had been alive longer than several generations’ worth of Rabbit’s family, also occupied the space. There were five in total, their neon yellow leaves the same shade all year round. They held a phosphorescent property that caused them to glow as soon as the sun began to set, their lights used to help navigate the pathways in the darkness.
Just one of the few reasons Rabbit preferred it here to other parts of campus.
It wasn’t dark now, however, in the middle of the afternoon where Rabbit sat at one of the many gazebo study stations. There were twelve that lined this particular path which formed a semi-circle, and he and his group had chosen one near the center. Each wooden structure was spaced ten feet away from the next, providing ample room for privacy so long as people kept their voices at a moderate level and respected everyone else.
“You’re still doing this?” Sila appeared at the end of the table and took the vacant bench seat across from Rabbit, who’d been distracted typing something into his holo-pad.
The meeting with his group had ended roughly fifteen minutes ago and the rest had left to grab lunch somewhere. Rabbit had declined the invitation, and since his reputation for being a loner was well known, none of the three group members had bothered sticking around to try and convince him.
Which was fine. It’s what he wanted anyway. To be left alone. He’d already learned the hard lesson of what would happen if he didn’t stay hypervigilant on his studies—or, more accurately, his practice—and it was a lesson he had no desire to experience again.
Sila sprawled out, taking up most of the bench with his broad shoulders. He had this ability to take up space, both literally and figuratively, wherever he went. Like it was impossible for the world and anyone in it to not take notice of him. Another sharp contrast to the timid kid who’d stuck to Rabbit like glue all last year.
“I’m bored,” Sila said, making it clear he hadn’t expected a response to his initial question. “Let’s get out of here and find something fun to do.”
Rabbit dropped his attention back to his holo-pad. He’d been in the middle of compiling notes from the meeting and he wanted it done before he forgot any of the smaller details. “I have practice after this.”
“Again?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t you find it draining?”
Yes. “No.”
Sila rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to get out more, Rabbit. Live a little. Oh.” He propped his elbows on the table. “How’d last night go? You had your redo date, right?”
