Beautiful men scare me

You never thought you’d wake up in one of NRC's clinics with your head wrapped in bandages like an ancient mummy—but you suppose there's a first for everything.

With your mind feeling numb alongside a distant ringing occupying the space that your brain had to offer and trying to fill the gaps of what it once was, it's surprising to fathom that you were alive—spacing out as your distant uncle rambles on. Crewel have always been verbose, always prying on everyone's businesses in order to provide his not-so needed criticism.

Yet his words were barely registering to you.

" —iotic! Why would you—tsk... forget it. I can’t fathom how we’re even related... " He looked as dictator-ish as ever, subjectively speaking. He's always been like that during family reunions, talking to everyone as if they were dogs.

Perhaps they were, but you had absolutely no intention of lumping yourself in with them, considering that he too—calls you a dog.

If you remember correctly at least.

Your eyes followed his tall figure move restlessly around the room, his expression tight with evident frustration—his eyes as scrutinizing as ever. His hands showed his veins while gripping a clipboard so hard you might've just heard a small crack. You too wonder why the two of you even share the same blood.

You’d give anything—well maybe not anything—to know why he seems to dislike you so much, but unfortunately, your entire mind was an absolute blur of a blank canvas.

The clearest memory you have is sending out an admission letter to Royal Sword Academy... and to Night Raven College..

At least now you know which one accepted you by unwillingly looking at Crewel!

" Is that truly all you recall, (name)? " By the sound of his tone, this man most-likely wants you dead and buried 6ft underground despite sharing the same dna, or you were just being paranoid as ever.

You prefer the latter in favor of the security and safety of your well-being.

Nevertheless, you wouldn't really let it past him, you've already seen him whip some of your relatives—hell! He even spoke your name as if he's allergic to it, who's to say he won't bury you alive?!

He turns sharply towards you, his eyes narrowing with doubt. As if he'd just heard whatever your injured brain conjured up—though you were certain you've been keeping your mouth this entire time.

" If I find out this is another one of your ploys—I will make sure you regret it, mutt. "

.. geez, no wonder half his hair's already white.

It took him quite a while to actually believe you, you even gained another headache in the process. Perhaps your headaches had its own headaches with how much it's hurting.

It's also appalling to think that this man even dared to call you—his distant niece—a mutt! Sure the two of you rarely interacted in any reunions (you never even attended those), but that is no excuse to his extremely rude behavior!

Even with your endless complaints, you're quite aware that you can't exactly do anything about it.

" I suppose that If you are telling the truth—which i find hard to believe—then It appears that the impact your head received from the disc has caused retrograde amnesia "

One glance was all he needed to know you did not understand a single thing that came out of his mouth.

"... since you lack the knowledge—it is a specific type of memory loss where you’re unable to recall events or information that happened before the injury occurred, though I will monitor this closely."

Well, seems like you're gonna be cooped up in the clinic for quite a while! with crewel, unfortunately.

"—and you'll still be given worksheets, don't think that just because you're feignin—i mean injured, you'd be doing nothing. You better enjoy the company of your modules, pup." With an evil glint in his eyes, he lips curl into a light smirk—one that you almost missed as he turned his back to you.

..sigh, no rest for the wicked—you suppose.

As the days passed, you've been subjected to the most terrific torture known to all—isolation alongside worksheets that your feeble mind cannot even comprehend properly.

You almost wonder if it's a deliberate act by the one and only menace—Crewel. Well, he knows more than anyone in this school about your sudden memory loss—yet he seems to pay absolutely no mind to it with the way he sends tons of worksheets day by day that he doesn't even bother explaining to you.

Would've been better if you didn't have to deal with him—but no! You've been seeing his seven's-forsaken face every single day! It's already become a mascot for your nightmares at one point.

And if you had to see that man again alongside his agonizing gaze and snide remarks—

" Shishishi, easy thaumarks here I come! " A voice intervenes your inner monologue.

Much to your surprise, it seems that you need not to suffer in the professor's presence anymore! Perhaps he finally realized you've been isolated with him for far too long—or he got tired of your face pretty early.

Nonetheless, a new face visiting you was a pleasantly unpleasant surprise—the days alone with no one to talk to has surely affected your socialization skills, if you had one at least.

" Woa—so you are still alive after all?! yikes.. "

Standing before you with his beastmen features perched up in astonishment—was none other than.. well, a stranger.

It would’ve been a pleasant welcome, if only you hadn’t caught the tremor of disdain in his voice. A heads-up from that uncle of yours would’ve been helpful, but given with how this beastman guy's already reacting—there’s no telling what he'll do if he discovers the fact that you’ve lost some of your memories.

The more you observed, the more suspicious he became—suspicion planting seeds of doubt from the inside. Could you even take him in a fight if you had to? Probably, probably not.

But even if he seems to be taller than you, he's still quite a bit scrawny—perhaps you could.

Yet looking at the crack-like scars that decorates the lower part of his face, you had a sinking feeling you were absolutely gonna get bodied, who knows?

Perhaps violence was not the answe—

" Uh, I'm just here to deliver these.. no need to glare, geez.." His raspy tone and casual demeanor cut off your on-going train of thoughts as he places your worksheets on-top of your bedside table.

" and I'm not even one of 'em, I'm just lil ol me.." He mumbles to himself, almost becoming a whisper that you barely managed to decipher.

.. one of them?

You felt your brain form a wrinkle.

" Wai—"

" Well, that should be all.. see 'ya, bandage-head!"

Before you could even say a single four-letter word, he dashed off as if he was one with the wind. He shut the door close, leaving you there with your mouth open and your eye twitching in annoyance.

.. he didn't even let you finish, how rude.

After letting out a sigh full of exasperation, you looked over at the worksheets on your bedside table with your eyes once again twitching at the title—General Mathematics.

Well, you suppose the company of the worksheets would suffice for now—as long as it's not Crewel..

But still, what did that guy mean when he said he's not one of them?

.. whatever, probably none of your business.

" Yoohoo? Bandage-head?"

Just when you thought that would be the last time you’d ever see the rude scrawny beastman, the universe proved you wrong. Over these past few days, he kept showing up again and again—until he’d slipped into your routine, entirely by accident.

" You're really not much'of a talker, are ya? " He seems to love the sound of his own voice, from your perspective at the very least—quite the opposite of yourself.

With how much he rambles, he’d also become your source of information—at the expense of your thaumarks that you weren't even aware existed.

A small price to pay, yet you still find yourself wondering—how reliable is he, exactly?

...

.. well, it was either him or Crewel. Not the best choices certainly, but at least one doesn't seem to dislike you as much as the other. If he does, then he's quite great at hiding it.

Your thoughts are soon interrupted by an exasperated sigh, urging you to look at the beastman who's eyes were already set onto yours.

" You're acting weird, y'know? I think even the prefect's startin' to get worried 'bout ya. " He speaks in an oddly monotone voice as he rests his chin onto the palm of his hand, raising a brow at your unexpressive face.

... who?

You hear him mumble something under his breath, and yet it wasn't loud enough for you to fully understand—opting you to stay silent.

For a moment, at least.

" Why are you still here? " Your throat almost hurts with how unused your voice is—seems like you ought to start using it more, screaming your heart's frustrations out into a pillow doesn't exactly count.

" Why do'ya only speak when ya' wanna drive me outta here? " While he speaks, you wonder what other reason could there be rather than the fact that you'd prefer you were alone.

Though you suppose he's.. kind of nice to have around—considering that you've been alone for quite a while whenever Crewel leaves.

Well—either way, if this prefect-person was oh-so worried, then why haven't they visited you? To you, it seems like they're not worried enough.

Or not worried at all.

" Ahem! Well, as I was sayin' earlier—before 'ya spaced out—someone threw an egg to his face and then he overblotted. "

" .. an egg? "

" Yea, an egg—can 'ya believe it!? In this economy? " He invades your personal space as he gets close to your face while he rambles on how much the egg prices have grown expensive.

You couldn't really care less about whatever he's ranting about, his exaggeration makes it seem false—like seriously? Overblotting over a thrown egg? Next thing he'll say, cats can spit out blue fire.

Though if there was something else you'd find far more intriguing—then it'd be the scars that adorned the lower half of his face.

You'd ask him how he got those, but decided against it once you realized you weren't even aware of what this guy's name was.

" Ya' of all people should know this, ya' were there after all when it happened—Hey! Ya' spacing out again! " He snapped his fingers infront of you, even leaning in as his expression morphs into one that's would earn sympathy from people—one with doe slightly teary eyes and pouty lips.

Unfortunately for him, you weren't part of those people—you were an amnesiac.

"... ever heard of personal space? " You mutter loud enough for him to hear, slowly moving away from his presence.

" Ya' hurtin this poor lil hyena's feelings, bandage-head.."

You ignored his whining—focusing more on the worksheets laid infront of you. Hearing him let out another sigh, you wonder why he's even bothering with you—

" I'll have 'ya know, this ain't free. "

—oh right, the thaumarks.

Once you looked over at him, he was already reaching his hand out with a smirk grazing his overly-enthusiastic face—which brightened up more once you reached for your wallet that was given to you by Crewel.

Just as you were about to hand it to him—he suddenly took his laid out hand back and scratched the back of his neck, seems like he had a change of heart.

" Well—uh, hold on " The way he spoke immediately caught you off-guard, his usually raspy tone held an underlying strain—even his eyes seemed to twitch.

" What about we uhm.. change it up a li'l? I've been doin' all the talkin—how 'bout.. ya' tell me more about ya'self?" A smile decorated his face, one that didn't reach his eyes—yet his tone was as cheerful as ever. You could've sworn he muttered something after—but perhaps it's just a pigment of your imagination.

" Whaddya say? " He reaches his hand out once again, staring into your eyes that held confusion as your body seemed to suddenly have a mind of its own—with your hand also reaching out to his.

... huh?

" Wa-wait—" He cuts you off with his own words.

" That's more like it!" He grips your hand tight as he shakes both of your hands with such vigor—you almost thought it'd fall off.

You could only stare in bewilderment at the handshake being performed before you.

" What are you doing, pups? " All of a sudden, a voice you normally would've revolted at enters the room.

" Tsk.. not again.. " You heard the beastman mutter to himself, the smile on his face dropping as he lets go of your now free hand.

" What was that, Ruggie? "

"Nothing, professor! I—I should get going, gotta go wake someone up!" With a smile on his face he stands up to leave, almost in a hurry—but not before bidding you farewell.

" See'ya, Bandage-head!" With that being said, he closes the door on the way out.

You stare at the door, then at your hand in disbelief—were you imagining things earlier? You wonder to yourself as you began to stretch every finger possible.

.. or you've gone crazy after being confined in a clinic for so long—almost two weeks or so if your perception of time was still available and working.

... Perhaps it was the second option—staying with your uncle for so long must've made you lose your mind.

Hold on.. the thaumarks you were supposed to give are.. missing?

" First time having hands, mutt? Stop dilly-dallying and focus on your work. " You felt his gaze upon you—if that was even possible.

Though you never thought there'd be a time where you'd be appreciating your uncle's sudden appearance, but as you had thought before—there's a first for everything.

And may this be the last, Crewel.

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