Vicious Prince (Royal Elite 5)

Lacking a talkative nature can be a disadvantage when surrounded by people who won’t shut up. Sometimes, Elsa and Aiden’s group of friends throw remarks my way, and I usually figure it out too late. I hate that.

It’s not my fault I’m not so witty like all of them seem to be.

I pass by the faceless stud

ents and try focusing on one of them, squinting to form an image. How hard could it be? Two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. It’s that easy.

Only it’s not.

I need a lot of focus to form faces, a familiarity of sorts, but I still don’t have that with RES’s students. The one I concentrate on barely has eyes; they’re washed out, and the person quickly strides past me, shattering any focus I had.

I shake my head and rekindle the connection with my phone.

Maybe one day after the war finishes, I’ll stand in a public place and recognise every face and every person. I’ll be normal.

Though, what’s normal? I never lived it, never experienced it, so how come I want it so much?

I’m a human, after all, like my therapist says. I can deny it all I want, but I keep snapping back to what’s considered normal even without my permission.

Stupid anatomy.

“A word, ma belle,” a low voice whispers in my ear from behind.

I startle and my hands shake, nearly dropping the phone on the ground.

Something jerks in my chest, as if invisible hands are rummaging through my organs.

It takes me a second too long to regain control over my breathing.

Refusing to show Ronan a reaction, I continue walking as if he didn’t just set off my second trigger for the day. First Knox, and now him.

I’m usually more aware of my surroundings for this exact reason, but I spent all night searching for and watching videos of my opponent, making sure I know him better than he knows himself.

I guess a lack of sleep can cause a deficiency in attention.

“Did you hear me?” He speaks with that smile plastered on his face as he falls in step beside me.

“Yes, and my silence was the answer, just like how I left to stop being in your immediate vicinity.”

“You’re getting it all wrong, but I’m generous so I’ll fix your misconception. Silence is a sign of affirmation.”

“For me, it’s a sign of denial.” I stride faster than I usually walk, but it’s useless. He’s way taller than me and his legs eat up the distance, keeping pace with me without any extra effort.

“That’s lovely.” He smiles, but I don’t think he believes what he said — the part where he thinks this is lovely, I mean.

No, it can’t be.

He’s as readable as it gets. Even with my weird relationship with feelings, I can figure him out. I watched him for weeks on end before I took this step. He can’t possibly be hiding anything up his sleeve.

“Do you mind?” I stop, motioning at him to go ahead. Ronan and I often throw jabs at each other. What? I’m allergic to his over-positivity, and I can’t stay quiet about it. He always retaliates and we soon drop it.

But that’s only when someone else is around.

I never spend alone time with Ronan, and it’s for a reason. He’s always surrounded by people; it feels suffocating just watching from afar.

“I do, actually.” He smiles again, adding a wink, but it’s not at me — it’s at a girl passing us by. “Party at my place, Nicky!”

She nods several times like an overeager kid on Christmas morning then blushes when he winks at her again.