roved over the class until it rested lightly on Genâs face. She gave him an encouraging smile. Maybe he wasnât as calm as he liked everyone to believe.
âBegin Nimziri.â The professor said with a strong vibrant voice. She sat behind her desk in the corner and folded her parasol, placing it swiftly on the floor. He was silent for a moment his eyes smiling as he cleared his throat.
âThis will be good.â Nimaya said looking over her shoulder at Gen.
âThe blackest night is filled with a golden light.
A dark waterfall of vitality, glowing black against a sea of white.
Honey-almond mixed with ice blue delight.
I can taste you, I can feel you, and yet you move away
As if Iâm the cause of your plight.
I want to trace the vein that runs from wrist to elbow;
Sink my fangs into your throat as my fingers go to work.
In this match that will be sanctioned and be pure.
Of this I am sure.
So come my golden Goddess donât be so demure.
Let me taste all that is pure.
Gen watched in horror as everyone in class turned to look at her. Nim pulled his vid from the feed, and walked to his seat. How could he do something like this? It was wrong, and not fair. He put her on display, embarrassed her further in front of the other recruits and the professor. Who else could he be talking about? Their entire Par community all looked the same. Same skin, same eyes, same color hair. Their only variance was their style of dress. For Nimziri to put all her qualities on display as if confessing his want for her would help his cause. He was very wrong. This feeling she felt was unpleasant. Harsh. Her skin heated with hostility towards him and his words. Her back was rigid with fear. Everyone was staring. No one said a word. Her body was wound tight, but her nerves were high on anxiety. Somewhere inside of her mind she thought she should leave and run from the class. Sensibility kicked in and warned her to stay put. What was done was done. Final. Nothing could snatch the words back. Time could not be rewound.
Now she understood the saying, âheat in someoneâs stare.â Her skin felt scorched by her onlookers.
âIt was not my intention to embarrass you.â Nim whispered as he sat down. âI only said what every male here is too afraid to say out loud.â
Every male was not thinking those thoughts. They were not envisioning taking from her vein. Was Nim mad!
âAlright, class who is next?â Professor Aylet said over the murmurs in the class.
One by one everyone stood in front of the class and read their assignments. Everyoneâs was different. They didnât specify one person in general, instead they focused on a body part. Eyes, hands, lips, throat, neck. Nimaya mentioned how someoneâs voice was sensual. More and more Gen was becoming uneasy. Her assignment didnât necessarily describe another, but there were certain attributes that could be ascertained. Figured out if one had an inkling to dig deep. They were her feelings, her true feelings. But after Nimziriâs reading she wasnât sure if this was something she could even address out loud to the others in the class. She was practical if anything else. She could do this, would do this.
âMiss Blackmore youâre the last one to read.â Professor Aylet said, as she straightened her vid screen on her desk. âPlease share with us your thoughts.â
Genesis stood and very calmly approached the front of the class. Once she reached the podium she plugged in her vid feed. She straightened the bodice of her dress, found an imaginary piece of fluff on the folds of her sleeves and tried to pretend it was just her, and her alone. She took a deep breath and held it until she felt sure she was ready to begin. Air filled her lungs and the strength began to flow peacefully over her body. It assured her it was okay to express these unnatural, disconnected feelings.
âI can smell the fire in
âBegin Nimziri.â The professor said with a strong vibrant voice. She sat behind her desk in the corner and folded her parasol, placing it swiftly on the floor. He was silent for a moment his eyes smiling as he cleared his throat.
âThis will be good.â Nimaya said looking over her shoulder at Gen.
âThe blackest night is filled with a golden light.
A dark waterfall of vitality, glowing black against a sea of white.
Honey-almond mixed with ice blue delight.
I can taste you, I can feel you, and yet you move away
As if Iâm the cause of your plight.
I want to trace the vein that runs from wrist to elbow;
Sink my fangs into your throat as my fingers go to work.
In this match that will be sanctioned and be pure.
Of this I am sure.
So come my golden Goddess donât be so demure.
Let me taste all that is pure.
Gen watched in horror as everyone in class turned to look at her. Nim pulled his vid from the feed, and walked to his seat. How could he do something like this? It was wrong, and not fair. He put her on display, embarrassed her further in front of the other recruits and the professor. Who else could he be talking about? Their entire Par community all looked the same. Same skin, same eyes, same color hair. Their only variance was their style of dress. For Nimziri to put all her qualities on display as if confessing his want for her would help his cause. He was very wrong. This feeling she felt was unpleasant. Harsh. Her skin heated with hostility towards him and his words. Her back was rigid with fear. Everyone was staring. No one said a word. Her body was wound tight, but her nerves were high on anxiety. Somewhere inside of her mind she thought she should leave and run from the class. Sensibility kicked in and warned her to stay put. What was done was done. Final. Nothing could snatch the words back. Time could not be rewound.
Now she understood the saying, âheat in someoneâs stare.â Her skin felt scorched by her onlookers.
âIt was not my intention to embarrass you.â Nim whispered as he sat down. âI only said what every male here is too afraid to say out loud.â
Every male was not thinking those thoughts. They were not envisioning taking from her vein. Was Nim mad!
âAlright, class who is next?â Professor Aylet said over the murmurs in the class.
One by one everyone stood in front of the class and read their assignments. Everyoneâs was different. They didnât specify one person in general, instead they focused on a body part. Eyes, hands, lips, throat, neck. Nimaya mentioned how someoneâs voice was sensual. More and more Gen was becoming uneasy. Her assignment didnât necessarily describe another, but there were certain attributes that could be ascertained. Figured out if one had an inkling to dig deep. They were her feelings, her true feelings. But after Nimziriâs reading she wasnât sure if this was something she could even address out loud to the others in the class. She was practical if anything else. She could do this, would do this.
âMiss Blackmore youâre the last one to read.â Professor Aylet said, as she straightened her vid screen on her desk. âPlease share with us your thoughts.â
Genesis stood and very calmly approached the front of the class. Once she reached the podium she plugged in her vid feed. She straightened the bodice of her dress, found an imaginary piece of fluff on the folds of her sleeves and tried to pretend it was just her, and her alone. She took a deep breath and held it until she felt sure she was ready to begin. Air filled her lungs and the strength began to flow peacefully over her body. It assured her it was okay to express these unnatural, disconnected feelings.
âI can smell the fire in
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