The Story of Aminnie: The First Night
@raviola || Part 2 of 2 || @kristi
It was impressive—the swiftness with which the man before Amani Monet had wielded his magic, catching her off guard. He was remarkably skilled, she mused, almost on par with Azriel. Almost. “Did I find you?” Her voice was light, amusement flickering in her green eyes at his words, “Weren’t you the one to find me?” she mused, arcing a brow.
He had asked of where she planned to go to, and Amani knew not how that was any of business, they were not friends nor aquitances and besides, if they were going to the same place, then maybe they will meet at the same place, If not, there is really no need for him to know- thus, she had told him plain and simply she was going to church. That was going to spread to gospel of the Lord, speaking a passage of the gospel that she remembered, as if to prove her point. But obviously, Amani knew it was not believable that she was going to church, for one; her skirt was too short and her shirt too tight, she was more likely to be shunned from church in her outfit than to be let in, and the boy- the boy standing in front of her had picked up on that, as his eyes roamed her outfit. “My church is special,” She had shrugged, “We believe in the freedom of expression.” She punctuated her words with a slow, deliberate sweep of her hand down the side of her skirt, emphasizing its daring length. “Besides, who says you have to be dressed like a nun to hear the word of God?” She had questioned, the corners of her lips tugging to a smirk. “You should come sometime,” she continued, her tone dripping with irony. “It might broaden your horizons.”
She wanted to leave, did not want to be too late at the party, after all she was supposed to meet with someone, then mingle with friends, but it seems that this frustrating guy standing in front of her, did not want to allow her to leave with his questions, and perhaps it was Amani’s fault to in a way, for not simply ignoring him. To be fair, though, Amani had never been one to turn down a ‘game’ or a ‘challenge’, it was always amusing, to challenge people. He had asked her how come she was at Umbra, as a female, and whether it has to do with her ability of the shadows, to that Amani had been cryptic- leaning into his ear, as she spoke in riddles. And he- the man, he had placed his hands on her waist. She was startled at that, eyeing his hand before she pulled away, as his finger slide off her waist. “Is there a reason to reveal my backstory to a stranger?” She had questioned when he had told her that she wanted to keep the real reason hidden. “Maybe you will find out one day, maybe you shall not,”
And with that, she had decided she was done with games and needed to head off to her destination, thus, she had brushed past him, her eyes scanning the area for the ideal place to leave the campus- scouting for secret routes, where she would not alert much attention. But unfortunately, she could not find it herself, because due to tiredness she had forgotten to scout the roof. She turned to face Enzo as he introduced, trying to see if he could be of any help.
Just keep going straight he had told her, and she eyed him strangely, considering whether or not she should actually listen to his words, but hey- it was not like she had any better routes herself, so she gave a small smile. “merci” She had whispered, as she started walking- straight ahead like she was told too.
She did not know what she expecting from the roof, but it was treacherous- she had to be incredible careful then , it would be easy to slip and fall through the rough patches and uneven tiles. Her movements were small and precise, trying not to make an error and slip to her own doom as he approached the old turrets, she saw the cobwebbed structures and the precarious ledges she’d need to navigate. It was risky, but doable. She pressed on, her determination unwavering.
But then, just as she thought she was in the clear, her foot slipped on a loose tile. The world seemed to tilt around her as she lost her balance, her arms flailing in a desperate attempt to steady herself. Her heart raced, a cold rush of fear surging through her.
She batted her pretty green eyes at him and he felt a bit flattered. They were the color of opened grapes freshly picked, and her eyelashes were very long and dark. She said that he had found her first, and he realized there was no correct way to label the way they had just met. In order to find something, you must look for it first. They had merely coincided.
He gave her an expression equivalent to a shoulder shrug. “I suppose so.”
The girl in the boots was amusingly funny, making him chuckle repeatedly to her sarcastic remarks. He hadn’t expected an attractive, posh, and most likely very privileged Wyndham student to be able to make him laugh, but there she was, and there he stood listening to her with surprisingly full engagement.
“My church is special,” She had shrugged, “We believe in the freedom of expression.”
He laughed. “Please, you’re more likely to be shunned in that outfit than let in,” Vincenzo responded, reading her thoughts. And surprisingly as well, there was no magic involved in that.
He listened to the rest of what she said then, before processing his response.
“Besides, who says you have to be dressed like a nun to hear the word of God?” She had questioned, the corners of her lips tugging to a smirk. “You should come sometime,” she continued, her tone dripping with irony. “It might broaden your horizons.”
“It’d be great if a church like that existed,” Vincenzo replied, giving the girl a bit of insight into his stance on social politics. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t, so can you actually tell me what you’re doing here?” He leaned his head just slightly toward her direction.
There had been a newfound sweetness in his voice, woven together by a bit of pathos. It was the tone he used when he couldn’t get what he want the right way, so he twisted his words into something more palpable for the person listening. If it was a girl, he made himself sound sensitive, like she would be hurting his feelings if she didn’t tell a sweet, good-looking boy like him what he wanted to hear. However, a large part of him sense that this girl would not be tainted by his tone of voice. Perhaps it was because she was focused only on reaching her secret destination, it must have been important considering how adamant she was about hiding it.
After whispering into his ear, Vincenzo had instinctively placed a hand near the girl’s abdomen, marking the short distance between them with his arm. To his surprise, however, she seemed to startle with the touch, slyly eyeing his hand when he put it down. It appeared that she had not been ready to see the consequences of her actions. Why had she whispered in his ear, if not to flirt?
Perhaps her only intention was to tease. If that were the case, then he would find her a bit apathetic, and a more likely spy sent by Mister Dear. She was losing points from him.
His eyes lowered to where his fingers slipped from the fabric of her shirt, resulting in him noticing the smallness of her waist. It was a bit enticing, but her words were not.
Time after time, she was rejecting his questions like a bad liar, making their whole interaction appear farcical. Either that, or she was genuinely becoming annoyed by him. Vincenzo most likely wouldn’t care regardless. He seldom took no for an answer, so he persisted, unsure if his greater hope was to expose the headmaster’s spy, or entice the stunning face of the operation. “Are you even a student in Umbra at all?” He asked with a carefully chosen, teasing tone, quickly finding an excuse for the question in his mind. “Or are you just here visiting one of the students.”
His statement was relatively ambiguous in terms of shallow processing, but since everyone knew that the Umbra Coven was reserved for male students only, so it felt a bit obvious what kind of visit he was insinuating. His top suspicion, however, was one he was about to test.
He had been sure that Ditto would search for an excuse not to go in that direction, almost positive. She would make up and excuse, he would tell her he caught her, she would act stupid, he wouldn’t change his mind and she would admit it. Then he assumed he would have to either run away or somehow compel her not to tell anyone about their interaction. He had been a bit worried when the thought first crossed his mind, but he tried to be brave in the moment, focusing in on his strategies trying to mask the concern on his face.
Unfortunately for him, his ideas became worthless when she gave him a small ”merci”.
His eyes widened watching her actually walk forward. “Wait,” he asked her with quiet urgency, but she only glanced back at him with disregard, and then kept walking. “Come back-“ he was going to continue, but she interrupted by telling him that she didn’t need his advice anymore. He looked around him for some way to help her, but there was nothing.
Hesitating, he went and followed her down the aged, dented path. In front of him, she was looking down at her toes, looking at where to step as they had been conversing, and behind her, he had been looking down at his shoes too, analyzing the same bits of the trail where she had been seconds before. She must have thought he was trying to follow her or something, because she did not stop.
He looked above for a brief moment, and the wind of the forest howled at the full moon before them. But beneath it, there was a cobwebbed turret awaiting both of them. That was when he knew that they had gone too far. “You know I really think we should go-“
He heard the heel of her boot click on one of the loose tiles.
Vincenzo looked up, and the girls arms were flailing for somewhere to brace herself,
In that same beat, he ran those closing steps between them and slipped his arms under hers, his fists at the height of her chin when her body weight fell back onto him, and he held his feet down a bit harder on the rooftop so that he wouldn’t lean back. He sighed a huge breath of relief, and only now noticed the way his heart had started to race from the adrenaline. Certainly, she must have been in shock too.
As if reading her thoughts, he had said exactly what she had been thinking, causing Amani to fight back the amusement that threatened to graze her face. She played the fool, a nonchalant expression on her face as she voiced out the words, “Am I?” She questioned, arching a brow as she looked down at her outfit, her eyes lingering on the daring length of her skirt and the tight fit of her shirt. “I can’t seem to figure out what exactly is wrong with my outfit, after all it is simply an act of self expression,” she had shrugged, “And from what I’ve been preached about,” She forced herself not to smile, “The House of God is the house of my father for we are all his children,” and whatever else was in that book, “So why not be comfortable?” She questioned.
It was obvious that he did not believe a word that came from her mouth- fortunately for him, he wasn’t foolish, unfortunately for her, it means he shall keep pestering her about her reasoning for being her, so she would keep insisting with the fake church story to irritate him, to get him to leave her alone or perhaps think her dull for not being able to come up with a different believable story- perhaps if she truly cared enough to entertain him she would but she did not, most people where not worth that much effort. “I told you I am going to a church,” she insisted with a shrug, “You’re the one who refuses to believe me, besides, I don’t think we are well acquainted with one another to be sharing gist about our plans for the evening, no?” Especially since he had not told her his own choice on how to spend the evening- perhaps if she cared enough, she would have turned it against him and ask where is he going, but the only thing she cared about was getting him off her back and leaving. Entertaining his questions does not seem to be doing her any good, it is a sad sad thing that Amani cannot help but to love games and to make a fool out of people.
When he had asked why she was here, she had leaned towards him to whisper into his ear, before she had pulled away, a little startled by the waist grab. Tilting her head as she noticed his expression his eyes on where he had touched. He had then stood straight, it seems, continuing with long and boring questions. But truthfully not all were boring, some were interesting. Why did he care so much why she was here? Besides, she had already told him the truth- that was one time she had told him the truth in their conversation and she was made a liar- tsk tsk tsk, guess she shall be a liar-. “Okay you caught me,” She admitted, "I was indeed coming here to see someone- my boyfriend. Amani.’ It was a good thing that Amani was a unisex name, “Now I’m leaving to my dorm or maybe to church, does that satisfy you?”* The way she had said the later was indeed mocking, it was taunting in the way she had voiced that out- as if he was a poor desperate child begging for a candy and she had given it to him. Does that satisfy you? Because this conversation had satisfied her enough.
Though, it seemed that she shall need a little of his help, as she had forgotten to check the place around. She had asked him for a location in which she could escape by, and he had given her one, causing for her lips to tug into a small smile as she gave him a curt, merci before she disappeared into the directions he had given her.
As she continued to walk, her feet light on the broken roof, Amani ignored the person calling her name, he strutted behind her and she wondered, why indeed was he following her and why did his voice seemed to be nervous. Moreover, the ground was way too slippery, she thought to herself as she saw the cobwebbed structured and the precarious ledges she’d need to navigate.
Risky, A very risky gamble, she thought to herself, but she had sneaked out through worst conditions. She stood straight as she steadied herself and prepared to continue her journey, but her foot had slipped on a loose tile, and Amani’s eyes widened as her heart raced, a cod rush of fear surging through her as she fought back a scream that threatened to escape from her lips, as she could feel the weight of gravity pulling her down. But instead of falling into her doom- she was caught, she was caught by no order than Ezra- no, Enzo and as he pulled them away from that place into a safer spot.
As he release his arms for her, allowing her to stand steadily, for a second Amani did not say a thing. She gazed into his ice blue eyes, his chiseled jaw, and rough hair, scanning his features but did not say a thing, until she took a deep breath and uttered, “What,” it was so soft that one couldn’t have possible heard it well at first, “What the hell is wrong with you,” Now that one was loud, as fury rumbled beneath her words. Amani’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her eyes ablaze with anger as she glared at Enzo. “You fucking set me up,” It wasn’t a question, but a fact.
There was something in her demeanor that had ever so slightly changed. She did not seem entertained, nor did she laughed, but her tone of voice was a bit… chipper. Like he had smashed the keyboard and accidentally pressed the right button. He smirked because he found that amusing, and was much more willing to be open about it than she seemed to be. It was sort of cute, feminine how she tried to conceal her positive emotions like they were a secret. It was one of his favorite things about girls; how they make efforts that are both sneaky and unnecessary, only because it is fun for them.
Still, he was a bit tired of the church talk, even if he was not tired of the nature of their interaction, so he was running out of responses.
“You’re very dedicated to this story, aren’t you?” He teased, and then tilted his head to feign that he was puzzled, smiling before he joked. “Are you even Christian at all?”
In a very posh, very british “well my daddy bought me __!” way, she told him off again, refusing to share the information he needed to know to move on in peace. Certainly, she was earning points in the direction of just being an innocent student, no spy is this difficult.
“You’re the one who refuses to believe me, besides, I don’t think we are well acquainted with one another to be sharing gist about our plans for the evening, no?”
“We might have to be very soon, since you say you’re in my coven, Mrs Umbra.” He replied a bit more sharply than he had spoken before, choosing a temporary name to call her since he did not yet know her name. It had been a fairly generous one, Mrs, not Miss to suggest that her position held a significant meaning. He would only see if she could live up to the expectation, if she even fit the description at all.
“I would have been happy to tell you my plans if you had asked them, because I have nothing to hide.” He lied. He would not over his dead body tell her what he was sneaking out for, not in the condition they were in that moment. Telling a spy that you’re sneaking out would be beyond idiotic, but he wanted to keep the act going. It was easier to annoy a pretty girl than get caught, after all.
When he had asked why she was here, she had leaned towards him to whisper into his ear, before she had pulled away, a little startled by the waist grab. Tilting her head as she noticed his expression his eyes on where he had touched. He had then stood straight, it seems, continuing with long and boring questions. But truthfully not all were boring, some were interesting. Why did he care so much why she was here? Besides, she had already told him the truth- that was one time she had told him the truth in their conversation and she was made a liar- tsk tsk tsk, guess she shall be a liar-. “Okay you caught me,” She admitted, "I was indeed coming here to see someone- my boyfriend. Amani .’ It was a good thing that Amani was a unisex name, “Now I’m leaving to my dorm or maybe to church, does that satisfy you?”
The ending of her words was a bit meaner than the rest of what she said. It was condescending, and it turned him on a little bit. Boyfriend, though, he didn’t like the sound of that, it would be harder to get a night with her if she had a man in the way. Her story had become a bit more plausible, but even then, what was a snobby girl like her doing going to visit a man instead of waiting for him to come to her?
“I don’t think that you should be the one going to visit him,” He asserted, raising a brow. “And I think that you would agree, considering the fact that there’s no one in your dorm room right now.” Vincenzo paused, articulating his next thought.
“I sent my shadows to sweep the windows, remember? I think I would have known by now if ‘Amani’ was awake, which he would be, getting ready for bed after you just left. I must say, though, it was a good story, you even came up with a name! But is that because you’re hiding something, or you just like bothering people?” He teased, still unsure of who she may be, but content that at least one thing was confirmed. It was now certain that she was a student, although it was still suspicious that she was the only girl in their group. It was still likely that she was prized by the headmaster, another reason for him to send her, but perhaps there was another reason for her odd placement.
The girl had fallen back into his arms, the back of her hair pressing against the fabric of his shirt, leaning back into his chest. She stood, turned, and collected herself, but instead of taking a breath or thanking him, she cut straight to her anger over being sent in the wrong direction. “What…” she boiled “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Really, he found her quite dramatic. Surely, she had been raised as a very petulant child. “Would you rather have fallen?” He asked, because he did not have to save her, but he did, which put the both of them in danger. It was not characteristic of him to save a stranger from peril, but he did, even if it was mostly because he did not need another charge against him, and the fact that he was attracted to her. The fact that she turned so quickly to anger felt to him like more of an offense than a natural response, but maybe that was just the prisoner in him talking.
“You fcking set me up,” she seethed, but he was unfazed.
“Of course I did, why would you go down the path with cobwebs and no ceiling tiles?” he asked her as a genuine question. He also could have been telling her the truth, overestimating her by thinking she could go down the path by herself. Likely, he would have gotten a bit angrier if the person he was arguing with was a man, but she wasn’t, so he just coped loosely. Without consulting her, Vincenzo turned around, beginning to take calculated steps back to safety. It felt like walking on a ledge.
“So, not a spy,” he noted out loud. “Do you think you can follow my footsteps?” He asked, expecting her to start walking behind him. He wanted to first return back to a safe spot before she tried to sass him more.
“You’re very dedicated to this story, aren’t you?” He teased, and then tilted his head to feign that he was puzzled, smiling before he joked. “Are you even Christian at all?”
God was he agitating. Perhaps she should just end this conversation, leave to where she was planning to go to, and stop answering-that was the problem, was it not? That she was answering, but she had a feeling, unless she played along for a couple of minutes- he was not going to let her be either ways, so she said, her tone shocked and determined- as if she was a religious martyr, getting asked to deny her faith. “You doubt me?” Amani asked, “Is this the inquisition?” A slight playfulness to her tone. “If you most know, then I suppose I am a believer.”
She was, but at the same time not. Her family, all except her mother and perhaps Atticus were fully Christians- but Amani was not, it would be hypocritical if she went around proclaiming a great faith in Christianity with all the things that she has done. But then again, Amani supposed, most Christians were hypocritical themselves. Moreover, Amani considered herself an agnostic.
At his persistent in getting information from her on her life, asking her where she was going, asking again and again where she was headed towards- Amani had pointed out, that they did not know each other- they were neither friends, lovers, family members , acquittances or even enemies. They were nothing to each other, nothing! So she had hoped he would be inclined to hop off her and go bugger someone else. But instead, he had told her that he would have been happy to tell her his plans, if he had asked them, he had nothing to hide and that they could possible be acquainted with each other, soon, giving the fact they were in the same coven-causing her to arc a brow, so now he chooses to believe she belongs to the coven does he?
"Trust me, I don’t think we shall ever be acquainted with each other, " she said, her tone slightly bitter, irritation visible on her face. Perhaps, she should have asked, as well where he was heading towards- and if she was, she would have played along, turning the question to him, asking then, where is he heading to- but if she asked and he tells her the truth, then he would keep bothering her until she told him where she was heading, and she was not in the mood for that now or to do something to get herself suspended due to the gnawing irritation in her.
He had asked her if she was visiting a boyfriend or a friend, minutes after calling her Mrs Umbra- so damn did he believe she was in the coven or not? He should make up his mind- furthermore, Amani had ‘confessed’ to being here for a boyfriend , using her name for the supposed fake boyfriend.
“I don’t think that you should be the one going to visit him, he had said causing Amani to raise a brow- “He didn’t know I was coming,” She shrugged, as she listened to his next words, reminding her that he had his shadows sweep the windows, causing Amani to ask, “If you knew, no one was in the room, why ask?” " Amani responded, her voice carrying a subtle challenge. She then smiled—a small, graceful smile, although a bit forced.: “Aren’t we all hiding something?” Her voice had been lower, perhaps a bit huskier, each word flowing with a rich, velvet quality that seemed to caress the air between them.
She had fallen back into his arms, her head pressing against the fabric of his shirt, leaning back into his chest. She had taken a minute to collect herself, allowing her head there for some time, until she stood- turned and thought. Then, she had taken a deep breath and uttered What, she had began, the hell is wrong with you she had continued, anger visible on her soft face.
Would you rather have fallen, she would have rather not been tricked and had to be saved by him, that is what she would rather have done!. "Perhaps,’ She began, “Maybe I could have seen with my own eyes if ghosts were real and come back to hunt you.” Perhaps that was a little childish- but she was 18, tired and frustrated, so how could one fault her in her 'childishness?" Moreover, if not Amani’s ghost hunting him, surely, her family would have found out who had caused the incident of her death and do all the work for her.
When she had called him out for setting him up, he had told her of course- questioning her decision to go down the path with cobwebs and no ceiling tiles. , “Trying to leave unnoticed without going through a door is never easier, Mr. Enzo,” She pointed out. She was used to sneaking around and helping her friends sneak around, going places that most might call dangerous. , “Besides, I didn’t see why you would lie to me,” Perhaps that had been her fault for being too trusting, , "You seemed to be escaping yourself.: She pointed out, as he turned around, taking steps forward. At loud, he had then said, So not a spy causing a confused expression to fall on her face- why the fck would she be a spy? How much time did he think she had in her hands to be spying on him, besides, who was he- Amani wondered, that would cause people to want to spy on him?
Do you think you can follow my footsteps?" He asked, and Amani said nothing, rolling her eyes as she trailed behind him. When they had finally reached the safe spot- back to where they started, where they met, she began walking towards her dorm room. She was no longer in the mood for partying, and for games.
The girl replied to his remarks about her religion with a hint of playfulness in her voice, but there was a falsity hanging from her words, as if she was talking to him like a situation to be handled. He decided not to comment on that, as that odd behavior was something he deemed should be observed, and not questioned.
"Trust me, I don’t think we shall ever be acquainted with each other, " she said, her tone slightly bitter, irritation visible on her face. Perhaps, she should have asked, as well where he was heading towards- and if she was, she would have played along, turning the question to him, asking then, where is he heading to- but if she asked and he tells her the truth, then he would keep bothering her until she told him where she was heading, and she was not in the mood for that now or to do something to get herself suspended due to the gnawing irritation in her.
Her words felt like a jab at his torso, but he ignored the hurt in his response. After all, it was not like he actually cared.
“Maybe not voluntarily, but a peer is a peer, so I suppose that is the only choice.” He offered, referring to their acquaintance as a more circunstancial thing.
She told him that her “boyfriend” was not expecting her and he raised his brows, showing how much he truly doubted that in his expression, and waited for her to confess.
“If you knew, no one was in the room, why ask?”
The question she posed was… admittedly quite valid. Unfortunately, he had still been thinking of different ways to reason his circumstances, so Vincenzo had not made his new calculation until now.
“It almost slipped my mind,” he replied honestly. “I guess it’s good to know that you have a gift for mischief,” and by that he meant lying. “That might come in handy at this school.”
He joked when he said that, but he meant the words. In a building that had been alive since the medieval times, run by a very suspicious man, it was better to be safe that sorry. And in Vincenzo’s humble opinion, peers that valued themselves solely based on academic merit, and played fairly… were going to be ignorant to the nails scratching the inside of the Wyndham walls.
He also assumed it relieving to know that the boyfriend story was fake, at least when her voice got husky, and she said in a very seductive voice that everyone has their secrets. But as attractive as that short sentence may have been, he took it lightly, because she was still suspicious. And beyond that, what was she hiding?
Would you rather have fallen, she would have rather not been tricked and had to be saved by him, that is what she would rather have done!. “Perhaps,’ She began, “Maybe I could have seen with my own eyes if ghosts were real and come back to hunt you.” Perhaps that was a little childish- but she was 18, tired and frustrated, so how could one fault her in her 'childishness?” Moreover, if not Amani’s ghost hunting him, surely, her family would have found out who had caused the incident of her death and do all the work for her.
He initially chuckled a bit at her reply, amused by how seriously she said that sentence. “Yeah?” He scoffed. “You have an odd way of saying thank you.”
That last comment was a bit pressing, but he felt a need to at least try to reciprocate a semblance of her frustration, although he was the reason that she almost died in the first place.
When she had called him out for setting him up, he had told her of course- questioning her decision to go down the path with cobwebs and no ceiling tiles. , “Trying to leave unnoticed without going through a door is never easier, Mr. Enzo,”
At that point in their rooftop disagreement, Vincenzo found it hard to deny her point. It did somewhat make sense why the way out would be difficult, but then she finished her sentence, and he looked down at the fragmented ceiling tiles they stood over. There was no point in lying to her anymore about their future as colleagues. He had no intention of returning to Wyndham, and she had no intention of stopping him.
“I was escaping,” he stated. “I still am, so you don’t have to worry about getting acquainted with me. I’ll be out of your way soon enough.”
Vincenzo’s words were not explicitly angry, but it was easily comprehensible that he was no longer being lighthearted, and her reaction had upset him. He sensed that might have been their last time speaking.
They reached the stable part of the roof again, and then Vincenzo started walking in the correct direction, but he heard the sound of Ditto’s footsteps trail off. At that, he turned around, and saw her walking back in the direction of her bedroom window. He bit his lip, and began to feel a bit of sympathy for her.
“Wait,” he said. “I’ll show you the right path this time, if you let me.”
