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Therion did not like Christmas.
It wasn’t for some noble reason, like how it was a capitalist nightmare. Though that certainly didn’t help Christmas’ case.
It was his history with Darius that his hatred of the holiday had manifested from. Christmas with Darius had Therion surrounded by people three years older than him passing bottles of beer around and getting into fights, running away when the cops showed up. Darius’ attempted murder, which had occurred on the holiday, had thoroughly ruined Therion’s enjoyment of that time of the year.
There was also the issue that Christmas was a holiday that put its importance on family. And he was someone that did not have a family. The car crash that killed his parents had occurred six months prior to Christmas, but that year’s celebration had been one of the times he felt the loss the most keenly.
All of this meant that the holiday season was something Therion dreaded the arrival of. But like clockwork, December 1st arrived every year, and with it, his roommate Alfyn’s annoying enjoyment of the holiday. Their apartment, with the exception of Therion’s bedroom, had been decked out in holiday cheer of all sorts. Therion sighed as a string of red and white lights fell down and hit him in the face as he walked into the kitchen.
“Whoops, sorry about that!” Alfyn said, rushing over to where Therion stood. He grabbed the string of lights and reached up to reattach them to the wall. “Darn tape won’t stick.”
“I can tell,” Therion muttered, moving to sit at the small table set up in the back of the kitchen. “What’s for dinner?”
“Potato soup!” Alfyn announced proudly. He walked up to the table and set one bowl in front of Therion. The other went in front of his own seat.
“That’s new,” Therion remarked, picking his spoon up out of the bowl and blowing on the soup.
“Yeah, my girlfriend gave me the recipe.” Alfyn swallowed a couple spoonfuls before he spoke. “She’s havin’ a Christmas party.”
“Good for her,” Therion said, taking a sip of water.
Alfyn gave an exasperated sigh. “She wants you to come.”
“Why? I’m not exactly known for my festive spirit.”
“Because you’re my roommate. We’ve been datin’ for five months now, and I doubt you even know her name.”
“Not true. It’s Primrose.”
“Okay, fine, you know her name.” Alfyn swallowed another spoonful before he spoke again. “But you haven’t met her. This is the perfect opportunity!”
“I’ll meet her another time.”
“C’mon, please? The people from our study group will be there!”
“You think the fact that Tressa Colzione will be there is enticing to me?”
“Her roommate is cute!”
“Isn’t she the daughter of the Archbishop or something?”
“Adopted daughter,” Alfyn said weakly.
Therion sighed. “It’s not happening, Alf.”
“Fine,” Alfyn muttered.
The two ate the rest of their soup in silence.
To Alfyn’s credit, he didn’t bring up the Christmas party again until the night before.
“C’mon, please, Therion? She really wants you to go, and so do I!”
Therion glared at Alfyn from his spot on the other side of the couch. “I already told you, I’m not going. Now shut up. This part’s interesting.”
“I do not believe for a second that you actually want to watch White Christmas.” Alfyn’s expression was deadpan. “Or that you find it interesting.”
“Not true! They’re breaking into a train. Or something. That’s interesting.”
“Fine, we’ll keep talking after they get on the train.”
Therion rolled his eyes and focused back on the movie. Alfyn was right. He didn’t really want to watch White Christmas. It was boring as hell. But it beat having Alfyn bitch to him about that stupid Christmas party.
Therion sighed as Alfyn began to speak five minutes later, once they had all safely made it on the train with a disappointingly minimal amount of breaking and entering. “Why don’t you want to go to the party?”
“Because I don’t like Christmas.”
“Why don’t you like Christmas?”
That gave Therion pause. He knew the answer. But he didn’t want to say it. Alfyn had been his roommate for three years now, even after they had moved out of the dorms, but that didn’t mean he got to know every detail about his past.
“It’s a stupid holiday,” Therion said, a moment longer than most people would have waited to answer.
“Yeah, I know that. You aren’t the only person who thinks that. But you avoid it like the plague. Every single time I bring out the decorations you look like you die inside.”
“Would you believe me if I said I was raised Jewish?”
Alfyn sighed. “Look, Therion. I get that you’ve had a hard life, and that’s probably why you don’t like Christmas. And I’m not asking you to like Christmas. I’m just asking you to just give this party a try.”
Therion didn’t respond, instead focusing his attention back on the movie.
Therion knocked on the door in front of him, shoving his free hand into his pocket. This was a bad idea. He hadn’t told Alfyn that he’d be coming, but he was pretty sure that he would have made enough food for him anyway. Though food wasn’t exactly the biggest of his worries. It was a distraction.
The door swung open before Therion could decide whether or not he wanted to turn around, revealing a pale-skinned woman dressed in a tight red sweater and black jeans. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her dark eyes met his as she let out a small gasp. “Are you Therion?” She asked.
“Yep,” Therion said. He held out the bag in his left hand. “I, uh, brought wine.”
A smile broke across the woman’s face. “Oh, thank you! I’m Primrose, Alfyn’s girlfriend. I’m so glad you decided to come! Alfyn kept saying you would, but I had my doubts. Come in!”
Therion followed her into the house, pausing to untie the laces of his old Converse. He hadn’t known the dress code for the party, and he hadn’t caught a good enough glance at Alfyn earlier in the day to gauge it. He felt overdressed in his deep purple button-down and black jeans, though he supposed that if Cyrus was here, he wouldn’t be the most overdressed person in the room.
“Alfyn!” Primrose called as they entered the living room of the apartment. “Therion showed up!”
Alfyn turned around from where he stood in the kitchen, a green apron tied around his white sweater. “Well, shucks! Welcome to the party, Therion!”
“I brought wine,” Therion said.
“Wait a minute!” Said the annoyingly shrill voice of Tressa Colzione. Therion sighed as he turned to face her. An amused smile was wide across her face. “Therion is at a Christmas party? And he went on his own volition?”
“Lovely to see you too, Tressa,” Therion deadpanned. He looked at the rest of the people sitting at the table, Uno cards lying in front of them and in their hands, recognizing only one. “Hey there, Professor.”
“Hello, Therion,” Cyrus said. Therion had been right about him being overdressed. He wore a bright white button down complete with an ink black tie.
“Are those glasses you’re wearing?” Therion asked, fighting a smirk as he took a seat.
“My contact solution ran out,” Cyrus said, placing a red five on top of the pile of the cards. “Uno.”
The woman sitting next to Cyrus glared at him. “Dammit, Cyrus!” Her voice had a lilting accent to it, and Therion noticed a cat resting across her shoulders. The cat gave a meow, and the woman reached up to pet its head.
The man sitting next to Tressa gave an amused smile at the woman’s outburst. He was by far the biggest person at the table, towering above Tressa. “Calm yourself, H’aanit. It’s unlikely Cyrus will manage to win this round.”
The woman, H’aanit, sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” She glanced towards Therion. “Oh, we haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m H’aanit. Primrose and I went to high school together.”
“And I’m Olberic,” the man sitting next to Tressa said. He gestured to a man with long blonde hair sitting next to him. “This is my boyfriend, Erhardt. We also went to high school with Primrose.”
“Nice to meet you,” Therion said. “I’m Therion. When Professor over here wins, could I join the next game?”
The first bit of trouble came twenty minutes later.
“Tressa Colzione, I swear to Aelfric above, you had better stop kicking me.”
“I’m not trying to!” Tressa said. “I’m trying to think. Cyrus is too good at Uno.”
“Thank you,” Cyrus said.
“I don’t care if it’s on purpose or not,” Therion grit out. “Knock it off.”
“Fine,” Tressa muttered, placing a yellow reverse card on the pile.
Therion sighed as Olberic smiled and put a card on the pile. He looked down at his cards in preparation for his turn, though his concentration was interrupted when he felt something hit his calf. “Tressa, what the fuck?”
“I’m sorry!” Tressa said. “I’m not trying to, I swear! You just have long legs!”
“I am five foot seven,” Therion hissed. “I do not have long legs. Keep yours to yourself.”
“You suck,” Tressa said as Therion laid a green reverse on the stack of cards.
“And you have horrible fashion taste,” Therion said, looking over her outfit, which consisted of a pale cream sweater with a giant embroidered squirrel wearing a Santa hat on the front, red leggings, and, of course, her signature baseball cap.
“Oh, shut up, Mr. Wears-The-Same-Hoodie-Every-Day,” Tressa muttered. Therion heard H’aanit stifle a laugh as she laid a card on the pile.
The game was quiet for a few moments as Therion focused on playing. Cyrus really was too good at the game, and it wasn’t much longer before he called out, “Uno.”
“Dammit!” Tressa said, her leg flying out and striking Therion in the shin.
“Fucking hell, Tressa!” Therion snapped. “That’s it. I’m done.” He stood up and threw his cards down on the table. “Where’s the bathroom?”
“Through that door,” Tressa said meekly, pointing towards a door on the other side of the living room.
Therion stormed across the living room and roughly pushed the door open, walking into a hallway. “Dammit,” he muttered. Of course the apartment was fancy and had a damn hallway.
He walked down the hall and opened the door there, hoping he had guessed right that it was the bathroom. He stepped into the room, only realizing he had guessed wrong when he looked up and saw a bed with soft white covers in front of him.
He looked around. It was a nice room, if a little too plain for him. The decor was mostly white and various pastels. He startled when he turned his head and met a pair of brown eyes.
Therion took a step back and took in the girl sitting next to him. She had blonde hair that hung just below her shoulders, and a pair of pale blue headphones wrapped around her neck. It was Primrose’s roommate, he realized. Alfyn was right. She was cute.
“Um, hello,” she said. “Is there something I can help you with?” Her voice had a gentle, melodious quality to it.
“Yeah, where’s the bathroom? I, uh, got turned around.”
“Oh, it’s the door to the left when you leave the room.” She turned back to face him, her expression growing concerned. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah. Tressa was just being a bitch.” Her eyes widened slightly, and Therion remembered her parentage. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Well, if you ever need a break from the party, you’re welcome to come back in here. I should be out soon. I just need to study.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. My name’s Therion, by the way.”
“I’m Ophilia.” She held out her hand, and Therion shook it. His fingers lingered for a moment after the handshake had ended, and Therion relished in the blush that spread across her face.
“Lovely to meet you, Ophilia.”
Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Of course, the party got worse.
Uno had been put away by the time Therion returned from Ophilia’s room. Now, Tressa was trying very hard to beat Alfyn at Mario Kart. Currently, she was not succeeding.
“C’mon, babe!” Primrose said, her eyes darting between Alfyn and the screen of the TV. “You can do it!” Alfyn didn’t respond, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Tressa muttered, her eyes wide and her tone growing more frantic the more she spoke.
Therion leaned back in his chair, slowly sipping a can of beer and watching the scene unfold with an amused expression on his face.
Alfyn’s breath hitched as he neared the finish line, Tressa right on his tail. Therion held his breath as he watched the screen, releasing it sharply when Alfyn crossed the finish line. Alfyn let out a whoop, throwing his hands up into the air before he leaned down to give Primrose a kiss.
Tressa slumped back against the couch. H’aanit’s cat, Linde, gently pawed her way over to Tressa and curled up in her lap.
“Alright, who’s next?” Alfyn said, looking around the room. “Therion?”
Therion opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off by a sharp beep. Primrose stood up, her eyes widened. “Shit, the roast!”
She dashed into the kitchen, Alfyn right behind her. Therion heard coughs between the two of them, before the grating sound of an opening window let the smoke that had gathered in the kitchen begin to clear.
Therion stood and moved into a spot where he could see into the kitchen. Alfyn, mouth and nose covered by the collar of his sweater, was fanning an oven mitt around in an attempt to clear the dark gray smoke. Primrose leaned down by the oven, a hand over her mouth and nose and the other trying to pull the oven door open.
Alfyn joined her and together the two were able to pull the door open. A new cloud of smoke flew out of the oven, and Primrose began another coughing fit as Alfyn resumed waving the oven mitt.
Ophilia ran into the room, her eyes wide. “I heard the smoke alarm! What happened?”
Primrose pulled the roast out of the oven and set it on the stovetop. Therion could see tears well in her eyes as she stared at the quite burnt dish. “I ruined the roast,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse from the smoke.
Alfyn put his arm around her shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright. We have plenty of other food.”
“All of it got smoky!” Primrose said, burying her head into Alfyn’s chest.
Alfyn began to rub her back as Ophilia walked over to join the two of them. “It’s okay, Prim.” Ophilia’s hand found Primrose’s shoulder as she continued to speak. “I’m sure some of the food will still be edible. And we can order some.”
“I just wanted to be like my mom,” Primrose said in a voice so soft Therion wondered if she had actually spoken.
“I know,” Alfyn said. “It’s okay, Prim.”
Therion let out a sigh and moved back into the living room, picking up his can of beer and continuing to drink.
It was possibly a mistake to drink.
Therion hadn’t drunk in a while. In fact, he often tried very hard to avoid drinking ever since Darius. But he’d figured that this party would take a lot out of him, so he’d had a can of beer. And it had tasted good, so he’d had another.
Unfortunately, he now felt keenly aware of the annoying Christmas music Tressa had put on. He was normally able to tune out the exasperating songs of the season. After all, he’d had practice. But the alcohol that buzzed within him made him fully aware of just how high pitched Mariah Carey’s voice was.
Thankfully, he was being left alone. Tressa and H’aanit were absorbed in conversation, as were Olberic and his boyfriend. Cyrus, Alfyn, and Primrose were all discussing something, and Therion was amused to see Cyrus’ tie loosened. He wondered if the glass of wine Cyrus was halfway through had something to do with that.
And then there was Ophilia. Ophilia had somehow gotten much, much prettier in the past hour. She was sitting alone in a chair close to the TV that now played the music videos of the songs Tressa had started playing. Her golden hair would occasionally fall down in front of her face, and every time, she would simply tuck it back behind her ear without taking her eyes off of her book.
Therion was debating how angry Primrose would get if he hit on her roommate right then and there when the music changed to a much louder, much more obnoxious Mariah Carey song. Ophilia glanced up at the TV before returning to her book, as did most of the other people in the room. Therion was not as able to dismiss the new music.
“Tressa, could you turn this shit off?” He cringed at how slurred his speech sounded.
Tressa turned towards him, an annoyed expression on her face. “No. It’s festive.”
Therion groaned. “It’s stupid. This song is about, like, exes. That’s not Christmas. They’re just saying the word Santa so they can market it as a Christmas song.”
Tressa sighed. “Well, I like it. So it stays on.”
Ophilia spoke up. “Maybe we could just turn the volume down?”
Therion knew that this was a good idea. However, the alcohol seemed to have muted the smart parts of his brain, so he instead glared at Ophilia and said, “No, we turn it off.”
“Therion, c’mon. We can just change the song,” Alfyn said, his voice slightly desperate. Therion could see the warning in his eyes, telling him to make a good impression on Primrose. Unfortunately for Alfyn, Therion was terrible at making good impressions, and he was also terrible at listening.
“All of these songs suck. This party sucks. This whole fucking holiday sucks!”
Primrose had turned towards him, her eyes wide and blazing with anger. She had wholeheartedly recovered from the burnt roast earlier, and Therion now felt himself surprised at the intensity of her glare. “Well, Therion,” she said, her voice icy, “maybe you should leave then.”
“Fine,” Therion snapped. “I never wanted to come here anyway. I just came because Alfyn made such a big deal about me meeting you.”
Therion made his way towards the door, grabbing Cyrus’ wine glass and taking a drink from it. “Wha–Therion!” Cyrus cried.
“Shut it, Professor,” Therion called from the entryway, where he was tying his shoes. “I brought the wine.”
Before anyone else could say anything, Therion had walked out of the apartment and down the hall.
Therion sat on the front doorstep of the apartment building, the empty glass of wine by his feet. He hadn’t been this drunk in ages. Not since a Christmas surrounded by a bunch of jackasses who had turned on him and left him beaten and bloody for some old lady to find.
“Hey,” Alfyn said. Therion turned to face him. Alfyn had pulled on his signature green coat and a white hat, though he still looked cold. Therion supposed being raised in the Riverlands would make the Flatlands cold especially biting.
“Hey,” Therion said as Alfyn sat down next to him. “Why’re you out here?”
“To talk to you.”
“I don’t wanna talk.”
“Well, you better, because my girlfriend is pissed. And it’s not like you to have an outburst like that.”
“Would you believe me if I said it’s ‘cause I live a healthy, sober lifestyle and all this alcohol is messing with my brain?”
“I know you don’t normally drink, but I have seen you do it on occasion. And even though you normally drink less than you did tonight, you’ve never acted like this before.”
Therion let out a sigh. “Sometimes I hate that you know me so well.”
“Why?”
A thousand memories of a red-headed man with a jagged scar running across his face flashed through Therion’s mind. “This party sucks,” he said, attempting to change the subject.
The exasperated look on Alfyn’s face told Therion that he did not buy Therion’s flimsy subject change. But he didn’t push the subject of Darius further. “Why?”
“‘Cause Tressa is a bitch. She doesn’t know how to keep her damn feet to herself and she plays that fucking music and it’s so fucking annoying. And now all the food is ruined, and you don’t need to lie and say it isn’t ‘cause Primrose isn’t here.”
Alfyn was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “I feel like that isn’t the entire story.”
“The hell do you mean by that?”
“Yeah, this party hasn’t been great. But you can’t shrug this off like you do everything else? Something’s goin’ on.”
“Nothing’s going on,” Therion grit out. “This party is just a train wreck.”
“Therion,” Alfyn said in a tone that you couldn’t ignore. Therion turned to face him. “We’ve been roommates since our freshman year. Please, just tell me why you hate Christmas so much.”
Therion was quiet for what felt like forever before he finally spoke. “I almost died on Christmas.”
Therion looked over in time to see Alfyn’s jaw drop. “I…Shucks, Therion.”
Therion knew that Alfyn wouldn’t ask him to say any more. He knew that if he stood up and walked back into the party right then and there and apologized, Alfyn would never bring the subject up again.
But Therion wanted to tell Alfyn. For once, he wanted someone to understand what he’d been through. “I used to be friends with this guy Darius. Back when I stole. He was three years older than me, and he treated me…not well, but good enough for a kid who’d been in foster care for five years to immediately join his group.”
“I spent four years with them,” Therion continued, “starting when I was twelve. Each Christmas during those years involved me sneaking out of the house of whoever I was staying with to join a gang of kids three years older than me. They were almost always drunk, and I was a lot of the time too. We always got into some trouble. I was damn good at being a criminal, and they took advantage of that fact.”
“One day I started having doubts about what we were doing. Maybe it was ‘cause I’d lived a normal life once, but it just felt wrong to steal from people just because they had money and we didn’t. We took way more than we needed. And even though I did all the heavy lifting, Darius always found a way to cut me out of the profits. So I started asking questions. And he didn’t like that.”
“And so next Christmas, when I was sixteen…it was bad, Alf.” Therion could feel the scars on his chest begin to throb at the memory. “I would have died if this old lady hadn’t seen me limping away from Darius’ house and called 911.”
Therion turned to face Alfyn. “So yeah. That’s why I hate Christmas.”
Alfyn opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds. “Holy…shucks, Therion. I’m so sorry.”
Therion turned away from Alfyn. It felt unbearable to keep looking at him. To see the pity emanating off of him. “There’s also the matter that I never really had a family to celebrate Christmas with. But yeah.” He stood. “I should go find my car.”
“Sit down,” Alfyn said sternly. “Firstly, you’ve had way too much to drink. You aren’t getting behind the wheel anytime soon. Secondly, we need to talk a little more about this Darius fella.”
“Fine,” Therion muttered, sitting back down.
“Therion, what he did was undeniably shitty,” Alfyn said. “But you can’t let that stop you from enjoying your life.”
Therion opened his mouth to protest, but Alfyn held up his hand and continued talking. “I know you’re hesitant to trust people. Our relationship has the emotional depth of a three-month-old one instead of a three-year-old one. And I see how much you hate Christmas. But not everyone is like Darius.”
“I’m not saying you have to like Christmas, or that you have to tell everyone everything about your life. But give this party and everyone here a try. Primrose hasn’t always had it easy either. She’ll understand why you got upset.”
Therion didn’t say anything as he stared at the ground. He looked up when he saw an approaching shadow, meeting the eyes of a deliveryman with several boxes in his arms.
“Hey there,” Alfyn said.
“Hi,” the delivery guy said. “I’m looking for apartment, uh, 309. Know where that is?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s my girlfriend’s apartment,” Alfyn said, standing. “I can show you the way.” He looked down at Therion. “You coming?”
Therion bit his lower lip before he spoke. “Yeah.”
Therion ended up sitting in between Alfyn and Ophilia after the food had been delivered and apologies had been made. He supposed the seating chart was a good idea. He was sitting next to his roommate and a pretty girl. Tressa had been seated far away from him too, which was probably for the best.
“Alright,” Primrose said from the head of the table. “I know it’s not really Christmas, and this is also more of a Thanksgiving thing, but I think we should go around the table and just say one thing we’re grateful for this holiday season. I’ll go first. I’m grateful for Alfyn, and how supportive he’s been.”
Therion saw the beam that spread across Alfyn’s face. He smirked as Tressa, who was sitting on Primrose’s left, spoke. “I’m really grateful for my parent’s support. It means a lot going into my last year of college.” Therion bit down the urge to tell her that they were all in their last year of college, and that she wasn’t special. He really didn't want to have to apologize to her again.
Cyrus spoke next. “I’m very grateful for my position as a TA. It’s given me so much perspective, and it’s just been an incredible experience.”
Olberic followed Cyrus. “I’m grateful for my job as a fencing coach. It’s been…wonderful, getting back into the sport.”
Therion didn’t miss the bittersweet smile that crossed over Olberic’s boyfriend’s face before he spoke. “I’m grateful for Olberic being in my life.”
Alfyn spoke next. “I’m grateful for Primrose, and for how amazin’ she’s been.”
Therion felt all the eyes shift towards him, and he felt panic rise over him. Fuck, what was he going to say? He had never been a particularly grateful person, mostly because he’d never had much to be grateful for. His eyes darted towards Alfyn’s, who only gave him a small smile and an encouraging nod.
And so Therion opened his mouth and began to speak. “I…I’m grateful for Alfyn. For, y’know, being so supportive. And stuff.”
It was far less eloquent than everyone else had been. And it was almost exactly what Primrose had said. But he felt good about it as he turned to face Ophilia, who had a soft smile on her face.
“I’m very grateful for my sister, Lianna. She’s been trying so hard to keep in contact with me even after going back home, and it’s something that really just makes my day.”
And finally, the conversation had turned to H’aanit. “I am grateful for Linde,” she said. “Her companionship makes hard days easier.”
Primrose smiled. “Well, that’s everyone! Dig in!”
Everyone migrated to the living room again following dinner. Primrose was curled into Alfyn’s side, her hand lazily running up and down his leg as he talked to Olberic, whose boyfriend had his arm around Olberic’s shoulders and was possibly asleep. Tressa was holding Linde as she walked around the apartment, much to the worry of H’aanit. Cyrus sat reading a book.
And then there was Therion, sitting on a couch, Ophilia a few feet to his left, knitting needles clicking as she stitched sage green yarn together.
“What’re you knitting?” Therion asked. His voice was quiet, barely audible over the rest of the conversations occurring. But Ophilia heard him, and she turned to face him, her eyes slightly wide.
“Oh, um, a sweater. For my sister.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, and Therion felt his eyes drawn to her slender fingers.
“That’s nice.” He paused to wrack his still-rather-drunk brain for questions to ask. “What are you majoring in?”
“Theology.” She set her knitting down in her lap and adjusted herself so that she was looking directly at him. “What about you?”
“Criminal justice.”
“Oh, that’s interesting! What got you into that field?”
Therion debated what to say as he adjusted so that he was facing her. While he’d felt relatively comfortable telling Alfyn about Darius, he was in no way, shape, or form going to tell someone he’d just met about the time he almost died. Especially not a pretty girl whose roommate was currently staring daggers at him.
Therion ignored Primrose as he spoke. “Someone in my past got hurt pretty bad by some criminals.” He elected not to tell her that it was him who had gotten hurt. “I don’t want other people to have to go through that.”
“That’s very admirable,” she said, smiling. “My adopted father is the Archbishop of the Order of the Sacred Flame, and so studying religion seemed natural.”
“Do you like it?” Therion asked.
Ophilia nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, It’s so interesting. It’s sometimes difficult because a lot of it can be theoretical, but it’s just…it’s so fascinating.”
Therion smiled. “I’ll bet.” He glanced over at Primrose, who was momentarily focused on whatever Alfyn was saying. “Can I have your number?” He murmured, leaning forward.
Ophilia’s face was flushed as she nodded. Therion handed her his phone, and she quickly typed her number in the contact Therion had made. “H-here,” she stammered, handing him the phone back. Therion felt a smile spread over his face.
“Thanks, Ophilia.” Therion sent her a quick hello, and he saw her add him to her contacts. “If you ever want to talk, just send me a text.” He flickered his eyes down towards her lips, before dragging his gaze back up to hers. “And if you ever want anything else…”
“Okay,” Ophilia managed to squeak out, her face bright red.
Unfortunately, Therion’s flirting was put to an abrupt end when Primrose looked back over to the two of them. “Therion!” She said, standing up and putting her hands on her hips.
“What’s wrong, Primrose?” Therion asked, smiling.
Primrose didn’t answer him, instead turning to Alfyn. “Alfyn, I think your roommate has had a bit too much to drink,” she said sweetly. “Maybe you should take him home.”
Alfyn gave Primrose an amused smile as he stood. “Alright. Bye, Prim,” he said, leaning down and giving her a kiss. “C’mon, Therion.”
Therion got up off of the couch and walked over towards Alfyn. He turned around to face Ophilia. “See you around, priestess,” he said with a wink.