Jealousy - Viktor

Viktor is no stranger to jealousy. He tries not to fall prey to it, but it sours his stomach and makes fire course through his veins regardless. Unfortunately, he can’t fight his nature in this case.

It doesn’t help that he cares so fiercely about you. Sometimes the jealousy and protectiveness build up in his chest with no place to rest and he wants to just call your name until your eyes are back on him.

He doesn’t, though. Perhaps it’s because he’s civilized enough to know it’s a foolish notion. Or, maybe, it’s because he wants you to want to look at him before anyone else.

So he bites his tongue, hiding his feelings for fear of losing you. If there’s one thing he wants more than your love, it’s your companionship. He will be content with your presence and not ask for anything more; you being near him will have to be enough.

It’s hard sometimes, though. Like right now.

You’re sat together in the back corner of the cafeteria, sharing an Intro to Alchemy book as you both study over pizza. The only issue is that Viktor can’t focus because this Nephilim will not stop staring at you. His eyes are dark with what Viktor believes is attraction, or at the very least interest, and the Draca fights back a sneer.

You can’t see the other guy, your back turned to him as you jot down transmutation equations. Viktor watches him closely, however, and tenses when the winged bastard stands up.

You finally notice his discomfort, still unaware of the feathered nuisance approaching, “Vik, you okay?”

“Fine,” He grits out as the Nephilim finally comes to stand at the edge of your table.

You cast your fellow student a startled glance before looking at Viktor with a silent plea to handle it.

He takes your unspoken request and runs with it.

“Can we help you?” The Draca asks with perhaps more venom in his voice than necessary.

You give him a startled look. Alright, so it was definitely more venom than necessary.

“Just wanted to see if I might catch a date,” The Nephilim gives you a smile, dripping in conceited entitlement as he completely ignores Viktor.

Your eyes widen, astonished. Viktor forces the acrid words down that threaten to creep out his mouth. If you want a date, you should go on a date. You deserve it…you deserve happiness.

“With…me?” Your voice is incredulous, as if you can’t comprehend the possibility that someone would want you.

Viktor wants to shake you until you realize you’re wrong. That you’re perfect and fuck what any oracle has to say because he would choose you over anyone.

“I’m sorry but-“ Your gaze darts between him and the Nephilim, and sharp satisfaction pools in his gut when he realizes you intend to turn this guy down.

“I mean, I’ll be the talk of the campus with the Unchosen One on my arm. You understand the politics of it all, I’m sure. Any press is good press, after all.”

And just like that, the feather-brained bastard ruins everything. Your face falls, disappointed despite your intention to reject him regardless. Before that comment it was a harmless invitation; now, you’re once again being shuffled into that same old damned role that haunts your every move.

“Okay,” Viktor stands from his chair, feeling heat crawling through his veins once again, “Time to go.”

The Nephilim blinks at him slowly, “And who are you-?”

“The person who’s about to light those pretty wings up if you don’t walk away.” Viktor says, deadly serious.

The Nephilim pales, shooting him a scandalized look. Viktor holds firm, raising an eyebrow. His eyes flash gold in a blaring alarm that warns of danger. The other man pales and wisely flees within seconds of the threat, not even pausing to and backtrack.

Viktor turns to your, expecting to find you distressed, but instead your lips have curled into a barely-there smile.

“Thank you,” You say quietly, looking down at your lap.

He bites his cheek to stop himself from saying anything stupid. He then pushes his notebook over for you to look at as he sits back down.

“Could you check part two of problem three? I have no idea what I even wrote.” Viktor sighs.

That’s a lie. He knows exactly what the answer is. It distracts you in the end, though, so he’s counting it as a mission accomplished.