Jealousy - Theodore (Patreon)

He’s not jealous. He’s not.

It’s just that he had gotten your text to meet for lunch and it had made his heart run a marathon in his chest. Theo had ditched his Alchemy homework without a second thought and walked over to the dining hall to look for you.

So, here now, he starts to scan the room for you. You prefer sitting in the back, so he checks there first. Lo and behold, there you sit. With another guys standing at the corner of your table, leaning down into your space.

So maybe he’s lying. Maybe he’s horribly jealous to the point he feels sick with it. All that excitement and hope came crashing down around his poor, pathetic heart and he’s just going to have to deal with it.

What’s the alternative? Running this random guy off? You barley have enough friends as is, there’s no way Theo could do that to you. Even if the alternative means he has to sit at lunch with you and your new pal, gagging internally each time you flirt.

Theo steps forward, grin in place while he prepares himself to give an Oscar-winning performance. Of course he wants all the details of how you met, and of course he’s totally excited for you. It’s his role, and if you want him to play the part then he will.

Then you flinch. It’s a small jerk backward, a slight flutter to your eyes that speaks of fear. The sight of it makes Theo feel hellfire burn through his veins.

His steps quicken, and he doesn’t give a shit about the wide-eyed stares sent his way as he storms to the back corner of the cafeteria.

He catches the tail end of whatever shit this bastard is spewing.

“I mean, really, can you afford to be this picky?” The guy says, leaning into your space even as you shrink back with a stricken look.

He gets closer to you, and closer, his hand grasping your shoulder. Theo feels like doing something stupid.

So he does.

He grabs the jerk by his shoulder, roughly spinning him around. He stares at Theo, seemingly in shock from the interruption, but the cambion doesn’t give him any opportunities to recover.

Theo’s fist collides with his face in seconds. A satisfying smack comes from skin hitting skin, a crack from his knuckles smashing this asswipe’s nose.

The guys stumbles back, stunned, his nose sluggishly dripping blood. Theo reels him back in by his shirt collar, leaning close and sneering.

“You have ten seconds to get the fuck out,” Theo hisses quietly, his fangs becoming bulky in his mouth as his rage grows, “And if I ever catch you around either of us again, I swear it’ll be more than a punch.”

He bares his teeth, his wicked sharp canines on display. He’s sure his eyes are pitch black at this point, too. Cambions quickly loose most traces of their humanity when mad, and Theo is pissed.

The coward doesn’t even stutter out an excuse, merely tucking tail and running as soon as Theo releases him. The cambion then casts a dark look around at all the students staring.

Their gazes are quickly averted.

Swallowing, he tries to get a hold on that bitter ire that lingers in his blood. It feels impossible until a hand wraps around his bicep carefully. When he turns, you’re there with your soft eyes and a slight smirk.

“Fangs away, guard dog.” You say quietly.

The fire and fury flee him in an instant.

Theo raises an eyebrow and his grin tugs at his lips once more, “Woof.”

You laugh slightly despite yourself but sober quickly when you glance around and wince.

“Can we just go?” You whisper, “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“We can order pizza in,” Theo suggests immediately, “I’ll even let you choose the toppings.”

“Sold.” You say, grabbing your bag and books from the table, “In return, I’ll let you choose the place.”

“Ohh, decisions, decisions.” Theo says as you make for the exit.

All eyes are on the two of you. He notices the way you tense, your lips pursing. His wings flutter slightly, blocking their gazes. You shift closer, your eyes stuck on the floor, but your hand grazes his.

He links your pinkies together, shooting you a wink.

“As far as guard dogs go, I’m a pretty good one, right?” He asks, only half kidding.

You slip your hand fully in his, looking reluctantly amused, “Yeah. Pretty good.”

The rest of the night, at the very least, seems to be looking up.