THE SOUND OF HIS HEART BEAT was serene and pacifying, the only beat that cascaded me into the deepest slumber. Dominic's fingers brushed against the soft strand of my hair while his breath fanned across the top of my head. Being in his arms felt innocuous and right, a mere epitome of my diminutive sanctuary.

The reverberation of our kiss was still pasted in my frame of mind, but Dominic seemed tranquil as typical. I almost thought that osculating was a natural act for him. He didn't mind, but this exquisite electricity was shooting through my veins.

"I would be delighted," he started, winding his long fingers to the strands delicately, "to teach you everything that you never imagined, my dearest Mary." before he kissed the top of my head affectionately.

He slowly grasps the side of my ears before lifting my head up. I promptly met the dark, somber eyes accustomed to my comfort and instantly beamed at his answer.

My eyes shifted to the windows behind him, and my chest grew heavy. It's already late, almost reaching our curfew. "Dominic, I think we should be going right now," I said softly.

His eyes suddenly became disenchanted, but he tried to show his gentle smile before helping me from my feet. I uttered the words of gratitude before he closed the piano case, and we ventured out of the room.

The hallway, as usual, seemed to be deserted and cold; my heels were clacking boisterously, and I had the urgency to take it off. But I knew that it was too un-lady-like, and if ever there was, I still happened to be in the monastery; several nuns might scold me for my lack of manners if I did so.

My attention was too preoccupied that I didn't noticed Dominic's hands wrapped firmly on my own, making sure not to lose me. We walked while holding our hands as if we'd done this many times before. But I didn't mind because Dominic was my closest friend here in Mastema.

The lights kept flickering while we passed, and I glanced briefly at Dominic, wondering if he noticed it, too. But his demeanor appears to be impassive.

"Didn't they change the light bulbs frequently?" I asked in a croaked voice, affected by the sudden coldness.

The lenient of his raven hair falls slightly above his eyes when he turns his head, "Are you afraid of it?" he asked in trepidation. He brushed his hands on my shoulder blade, noticing a small frail dust fall on top of it. It became palpable to me that he never wanted any filth touching me.

"What's there to be afraid of? I'm just curiously engrossed why it kept flickering as we passed them,"

His lips turned upwards.

He parted them to speak soothing words but was cut abruptly by another booming one.

"Ms. Heathers, we need to talk about your contagious mishap or if it's still considered appropriate." Mr. Gibson, the head of the discipline, spoke spitefully. His hair was tucked neatly on his ears, and his attire was the same one he was always wearing in the detention room; a white polo shirt with black pants.

The images of the detention room and pile of papers flash across my mind.

Dominic didn't seem pleased by his sudden appearance; he lowered his hands that were once touching my head before tilting his head to observe Mr. Gibson. But he flicked it on the side instead. I followed his stare and noticed that Luca and Alda were standing there. Alda was still wearing her attire back from the play while looking distraught, and Luca seemed disapproving of what she'd done.

Alda told Mr. Gibson that I was staying at Dominic's place?

A flash of hurt reflected in my bright blue eyes while I stared at Alda. I was already aware that it was an inappropriate act, but she knew the exact reason why. I told her once.

I glance at Dominic with any luck, but Mr. Gibson clears his throat coarsely, impatiently waiting for my answer. "Well?" he echoed.

"I-it's just that please let me explain,"

"You can explicate it far ahead. But I need you to go back to your  dorm until the headmaster decides what's right from wrong, and I hope you acquire something from your child-like mistake."

Dominic stepped before me; his eyes were as serious as wolf down, and I couldn't see the shade of his flickering emotions too well. He appears to be calm, yet it makes me scared.

"I'm the one who invited her to stay in my place because, as far as I remember, there's no law here in this school forbidding sleeping with another's dorm. This school was lawless, after all. Is my statement right, Professor Gibson?"

The hair behind my neck stood when his voice suddenly turned cold but tranquil.

"Please review the situation; she needs to be guarded. You can't let her sleep with a man!" Alda pleaded to Mr. Gibson.

My eyes catch a sight of Dominic's fingers, slowly curling upwards to his palm.

"Very well then, Ms. Heathers you have to sleep in your dorm for tonight while the situation is under review. I might as well as call your parents about this matter." Mr. Gibson spoke decisively.

My shoulders dropped in defeat, and I took a few steps, but I turned around gently when Dominic grabbed my hands. His demeanor was composed and collected, "I hope to see you soon." He uttered before placing a soft, tender kiss on my lips, whispering promised words in my ears.

My eyes grew wide, and I froze. I heard a faint cry from the other end of the room, but I hadn't had the chance to see who it was. Dominic broke the kiss and turned his head to the people in front of me; his face showed an insightful mock of Alda and Mr. Gibson.

Why did he kiss me despite the accusations between us?

'Because you are his.' a familiar voice spoke.

THE MOMENT I STRIDE inside my room, the sudden taciturn subterranean darkness wrapped inside my frame. I want to escape from this nightmare, but I know that Mr. Gibson might be watching from the hallway.

I took deep breaths before shakily flipping the light switch. There was a flickering noise from the bulb before it went still as soon as the light embedded the room's corners. I peered and noticed it was the same setting I'd left it before.

The bed sheet was puckered, and the pillows were slightly disarranged from each other. It seemed as if someone abruptly stood up from it, and I knew pretty well that someone was me. I recoil from the things sprawled out all over the floor; it was too un-feminine for my side to leave such a mess.

I walked through the curtains and tucked the long velvet sides on the lock-pins. It's fair enough to be distracted by the clutter of my things than occupy myself with nothing. The moon sidles through the tall window when I put the curtains apart. The night sky was ash gray in color, with a tinge of dark maroon outlining each cloud's patterns. It appears as if it's going to rain.

My chest heaved because of distress. Alda never spoke with me when she and Luca escorted me toward my room. Her appearance seems to be the conflicting of enamored. And though I admired her once because of her vibrancy, now it felt too tight to be misunderstood; even Luca seemed to be trapped between what to believe in.

I walk towards my closet to grab some fresh clothes before venturing inside my bathroom. The lights seemed dimmer inside, and I ignored the shivers running down my spine when the cold air nipped my senses.

Why is it too cold in here? I kept querying.

I sang a piano lullaby while pouring the warm water against my skin, ignoring my anxieties. It's the tune of The Nutcracker by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. I decided to make the rhythm softer and more fervent. The same voice I always hear from Sister Diana.

My thoughts echoed in my mind feverishly. The song wore on, and I could've sworn that I heard someone singing with me on the other side of the room, but I chose to ignore it and hastily finished my bath.

I promise that you'll be returning to our room. Dominic's voice soothes my mind, the promised words he whispered after the abrupt graze.

I'm not used to being alone, even in foster care. I always have someone by my side.

The lather trickled my skin. And I fluttered my eyes closed, conveying some poignant memories from my past.

The monastery was eloquently eye-catching. The main house was covered with lone gray stones, and the roof was covered with a darker shade of black. There are tall windows in every corner of the house with angel portraits. There weren't any paintings of demons that can be found on either side of the convent.

My little hands tightened around my bonnet the first time I wandered around, patiently waiting for my father. I was already here the moment I woke up, and the nuns told me that my father would be here to fetch me soon.

That time, I counted all the hours and every minute that kept ticking by the clock. I alleged that my father would return for me because I thought he only took me here to behave well. The ballet performance was canceled, but my father had a reason to prevent me from performing.

I didn't cry; when I found myself lying on the bed in the monastery together with the other children. I was rather... confused. The kids even appear to come from poor families. They were dressed up poorly with tattered brown dresses alike, and the girls' bonnets were too plain without the frilly designs that Mother used to make me wear.

My clothes were outstanding above them. It's the same marine blue dress I should've worn before I performed on stage, but now it's covered with the slightest hint of dirt. The bed felt stiff and smelt poorly; even the pillow on my head felt like a rock covered with cloth.

I curiously stood up from the bed and turned to leave the room, but one of the foster children stood up. "We're not allowed to leave before eight," his tiny voice sounded a bit croaked, and he rubbed his emerald eyes, seeming to wake up from a comfortable sleep.

My eyebrows knit together with his fussing, "I'm not living in here."

"Then, where do you live?" He asked, standing up from his bed. His sleeping demeanor is already fading.

"I live in the Duke's mansion; did you know a man named Henry Heathers? That's my father's name."

"Your father was a Duke?" The boy asked bemusedly. I noticed that there was a touch of Dutch accent in his voice.

"He is, but unfortunately, I suddenly woke up here in this filthy room. I have to return to our mansion because Mother might be waiting for me. I'm supposed to perform in a ballet performance, but my father took me here to the Church, saying that it would serve as a good-luck charm. Then the next thing I know is me waking up here without any clues."

His emerald eyes lit up like a boy ready to hunt for treasure.

"I can help you find your father,"

My small face lit up, and I held out my hand, "I'm Mary Jane, by the way."

"Mine is Basle Lincolnshire, but call me Billy." He chimed, shaking my hand.

The nuns might've heard our little discussion because the wooden door flung open, and a calm yet disapproving look reflected on a certain nun's eyes.

Billy and I didn't look petrified by her emotions, but we stifled our acquitted chortle instead. Both are glad by each other's company.

A sharp pain shoots directly through my chest when the coldness of water crawls against my skin. The climate here seems so icy that staying in a warm bath might make you cold in the next second.

Shivering, I slowly stood up from the marbled tub. The dewdrops of water leisurely trickled against my pale skin, and my blonde crimped hair flowed on my back deftly. I step on the bathroom tiles before wearing my bathrobe. I fixed myself and stared at my reflection carefully in the mirror.

The lights above the bathroom shone on my face with an incandescent glow, from my hair down to my nose. I almost looked like Mrs. Heathers, except her looks were more exotic than mine.

"When was the last time I prayed?" I whispered in the air.

The lights flickered abruptly and I lurched, wearing my clothes on, not bothering to brush my hair before walking out of the bathroom.

My room was hauntingly dim. The moon rays were the only thing that served as a glow amidst the dark. Though it appears shady blue and easily cascades on every piece of furniture.

I shouldn't have to spend my night alone in the first place if it weren't because of Alda.

I didn't expect it to happen. That girl handed me a bottle of water a moment ago during the play; she never showed any sign that she would spill the beans to Mr. Gibson. And above all, the man that made me feel the word 'displease' for the first time; the one whom I missed my recent lecture all because of the repetition of his silly essays.

Someone knocked on my door and I hastily moved my feet to open it up.

My smile turned upside down.

"My brothers and I missed you as our dorm mate; we might as well give you a humble visit." Calvin grinned shadily while Darius and Enrique stood behind him.

A sudden frown etched on my face, "It's already late. The curfew was up. You and your brothers are not allowed to hop on dorms." I spoke as calmly as I could.

"Curfew," Darius sighed. "Is only a mere word to scare new students off? It didn't even exist in the first place." He shrugged.

I felt exhaustion waft inside me before looking at the three of them with defeat, "You probably should go now, please. I'm not in the mood for games."

"Who said that we're playing games?" Enrique spoke seriously.

I was about to speak but Calvin cut me through it, "All we want is some company for our midnight tea," he said with pleading yet mocked innocent eyes.

"Did you know why I came back here?" I spoke earnestly.

"-It's because Mr. Gibson had warned me that staying in other people's dorms is strictly prohibited."

Calvin chortled, and he cocked his head, "You might want to remove strictly and not. Seriously, lamb, how innocent are you? If staying in other people's dorms is not allowed, how did you think we managed to bring the prettiest girls into our room every night?"

"I'm not too sure, probably because you stick to the rules with honesty," I said.

The three of them broke into a series of mirth, and my frown deepened. I didn't find my statement facetious.

"Just ten minutes, please. The teas in our room are getting cold; it would be a waste since we've gone through a lot of trouble just to get it," Calvin sought.

"You might as well consider that a fair bargain for the comfort of your fragile state a while ago," Enrique added.

"But Mr. Gibson is out there. I'm currently on-watch, and I'm supposed to stay here in my dorm until the headmaster decides." I told them decently.

"We promised you we'll not hold you long," Darius assured.

I look back inside my room and the incident in the play. I thought for a moment and concluded that spending a midnight tea would be preferable to the distraught feeling I have whenever I'm alone.

"Did you also promise that you'll never let Mr. Gibson catch me while we're having our little chat?" I croak out, feeling the exhilaration surge inside me from breaking the rules.

"We've managed to master that skill these past few years," Calvin smirked, politely holding the door wider for me.