“Okay, I’m mad at this book. Chapter five is stupid. I mean, Napoleon literally kicks Snowball out, steals his ideas, and twists everything around so that it looks like he’s made some sort of great sacrifice??” Silas huffed out, and Cohen just watched his lips, completely enamored. Seriously, there was no logical reason for them to look so kissable. Axe murmured in agreement in his mind, but he chose to ignore it even though he knew it was petty. “And the whole guard dogs thing- I mean, what a coward honestly. Is that part kind of offensive to you? Because you turn into a dog sometimes?”

That drew a genuine laugh out of Cohen without his permission. He had been trying to ignore the Necromancer, but he couldn’t help but find his ramblings cute. Since the teacher had scolded them for not participating in partner discussions, the other had taken it upon himself to give his opinions about the book. “A dog? You think we turn into dogs?”

“Well no.” He puffed his cheeks out, “But there’s not much of a difference though is there?”

“Only thousands of years of domestication. Do pugs look anything like wolves?”

“Fair.” He conceded, “Can you speak to wolves at least? The regular ones.”

“No. They usually avoid us at all costs anyway.” Cohen shrugged, closing his copy of Animal Farm. Maybe he shouldn’t be engaging so much with Silas, but it was impossible not to. There was something about being near him, talking to him, that was so calming. He wanted to know everything about the witch. “Can you talk to bats?”

Silas cocked his head to the side, looking at him quizzically. “Isn’t that a vampire stereotype? I can talk to ghosts though.”

“How does that work?” Cohen didn’t know much about witches, and even less about Necromancers. Supposedly, half of their soul resides in the shadow world giving them their powers, but he didn’t know how true any of that was.

“It’s complicated. We have this third eye that gives us access to the veil between the realms, which is where ghosts are stuck. I’m good at “closing” mine, but my brother is more sensitive to the veil, so he sees ghosts all of the time.” Silas explained. Cohen wanted to ask more, he could listen to him talk all day, but the bell rang. Silas shut his book, before stuffing it in his backpack along with his notebook. “It was nice talking with you, puppy. See you tomorrow.” He flashed him a smile, and then he was gone, meeting the guy, Isaiah at the door.

Cohen sat, stunned. He hated the way that his brain short circuited from a fucking smile.

Later, when he wandered into fourth period after lunch, he had plopped himself down next to Lennon and said, “I’m completely fucked.”

Lennon had only rolled her eyes, “I’m convinced you’re a masochist. You’re torturing yourself for no reason.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a week later when he realized just how whipped he was.

He was sitting in desk at the beginning of third period, waiting for Silas to show up. A minute before the bell was supposed to ring the smell of sage filled his senses and he looked up. Silas looked as stunning as he usually did in his emo attire, except for the bruise marring his jaw. Cohen immediately tensed up, on edge because his mate had been harmed while he wasn’t around. He had to stop himself from demanding who had hurt him, instead forcing himself to relax. “What happened to you?”

Silas rolled his eyes as he sat himself in the desk next to Cohen, unzipping his backpack and pulling out Animal Farm. They were supposed to be discussing chapter ten today and preparing for the test on Friday. Cohen had a feeling he wasn’t going to be very productive today. “Fell yesterday.” He muttered, and he got the feeling that the witch was tired of being asked about it.

But the way he was avoiding his gaze indicated he was lying.

“I don’t believe you.” He said before he could think about it and winced as Silas settled his silvery eyes on him. He looked pissed, and Cohen wanted to bow his head and apologize profusely. Instead he kept rambling, “I mean, you don’t just fall and bruise your jaw like that. Clearly, someone hit-“

He was cut off by a hand clamping over his mouth, one that sent shivers down his spine despite that the touch wasn’t nice or gentle. The temperature seemed to drop multiple degrees around them. “If you don’t shut the fuck up, I will hex you. I’m not a light witch that believes in karma, and as another supernatural, you are fair game. My father is a pure-blood, century old Necromancer. He could wipe out your entire pack if I so much as voiced my discomfort with you mutts. Nod if you understand me.”

Cohen stared at him, wide eyed. He nodded deftly, not knowing if Silas was bluffing and unwilling to find out. Seemingly satisfied Silas took his hand away, turning back toward the front and opening his book like he hadn’t just threatened Cohen’s entire family. He chose to do the same, pretending to reread the final chapter of Animal Farm, even though his head was spinning.

Perhaps he should have been angry, offended even that his mate was so hostile just then. Instead, he was just thinking about how hot that deep, carefully calm voice sounded as he had threatened to curse him.

He was completely whipped, and he couldn’t even bring himself to be mad about it.