"For the last time, we can not have cocktails at a formal event!"
Beatrice almost threw the idiot out the window.
Nathaniel, however, was determined, "I don't see why not. It's a high class event-"
"High class, my ass! It's for students and graduates!"
"So what?!"
She huffed, running a hand over her face. "Seriously, just why did I have to be stuck with you?"
"I could ask Mr. White the same question, lumping me together with a Know-It-All." he leaned back, grumbling.
Professor Collins' office had turned into a battlefield. From seating arrangements to judging criterias, he argued with her over everything. It was as if 'yes' just didn't exist in his dictionary.
Which was exhausting. Beatrice had so much of her own work to do. Assignments to grade, research papers to go through, emails to reply to. Yet he was as uncompromising as ever.
She sighed deeply, clicking on her laptop. "I'm sending ahead the finalized list, I don't have ti-"
"Hold up," he scowled, getting up from his chair on the opposite side of the desk.
"Who knows what other stuff you've added in there?" he snarled, and stood beside the woman's chair, arms crossed.
"I have not-"
"Let me see."
She took a deep breath. "Fine. See for yourself, Mentoes."
He leaned in, squinting at the screen. As a result, Beatrice was squished back into her chair.
"The hell? Can you not-"
"I don't have my reading glasses, okay?!" he snapped, narrowing his eyes as he skimmed through the list.
Meanwhile, Beatrice was trying not to actively combust.
No man, not even her own father, had made it within her two-meter radius. Every interaction was at a comfortable distance.
Now? She was staring at the guy's neck, her revolving chair slightly rotated to give him some space to come closer, but not enough to come in contact.
She held her breath. Even though his cologne was a distinct sandalwood with some notes of pine, for some reason, it smelled more like Christmas and hot cocoa.
"Can you- back off?!" she sputtered, her cheeks and ears bright red.
"Just a-" he glanced behind him, but froze. "Woah."
That was it.
"Get off!"
"I'm not even on you?!"
He stumbled back, his own face going a bit pink.
The woman clutched her nose, as if trying to remove the intoxicating scent from her nasal cavity. The other hand covered her mouth, to try to not... scream.
"C-chill," he held up his hands, unnerved, "It's not like you've never been close to a guy before."
"..."
"..."
"..."
He stared, then burst out laughing. "No way."
"Shut up."
"A twenty-eight year old virgin?!"
"Where did that even- Never mind, shut up."
But he could not stop wheezing.
Beatrice watched, embarrassed.
A few seconds later, he finally calmed down, eyes twinkling in amusement. "Oh boy, hilarious."
His tinted cheeks were like a stroke of life to his deathly pale skin, the only color on his face being of his bright blue eyes.
White and blue, the nickname 'Mentoes' well earned.
"Are you done?" she snapped.
He smirked. "Oof, someone's a little stingy."
"Say that one more time, and I'll be going to jail for murder of a university lecturer."
He barked a laugh, "Guilty as charged, m'Lady"
. . .
Students were filled in the spacious Auditorium, the crowd buzzing softly with chatter.
The very bottom row of seats was reserved for officials, already filled, and on the stage was a small table for the panel members.
Professor Beatrice Collins was tapping her pen on the clipboard, and Professor Nathaniel Victor's tablet rested on the table as he watched with his brows furrowed.
"Necrobotics," she repeated in the mic, "the concept is not entirely unknown."
"Yet, it's not every day you get to see a dead spider holding a soda can," Victor grinned.
This group of graduates had attempted to replicate the Necrobotic Spider Gripper, its strength being demonstrated as it effectively held an empty can of Fanta.
They were nervous, and Collins' sharp expression was not helping their nerves.
"The idea is only applicable on organisms who use hydraulics to pump their version of blood through their body," she said slowly, "so how would you build a whole business off of this?"
A burly guy standing in the middle, supposedly the leader of the group, confidently initiated, "Well, we plan to make it work in continents like Africa, who have too many spiders for their own good."
Laughter rippled through the crowd. Collins scowled.
"But with some more research, I'm sure it can be applied to other types of organisms as well. It's science, anything can happen."
"Other organisms, such as?" Nathaniel prompted, shifting. Beatrice nodded.
"Crustaceans, and... other lobster species. Probably." Another one from the back spoke up.
Collins sighed, scribbling on her clipboard. "Alright, fair enough."
The next group was called. An SOS-signal firework.
"Basically," one said, pointing to a little narrow, tent shaped stick wrapped in fabric., "it explodes like a normal firework would when it comes into contact with hard surfaces, usually the ground."
"So, if you're in a situation where you can't call for help, just throw one of these and your life may be saved."
Beatrice's eyebrows were raised. Victor had a smile on his face.
"The idea is unique and impressive, but how can you assure no accidents happen during execution?" he asked.
"Well... it's similar to dealing with a blade. One wrong move and you cut yourself." another one explained.
"So, it's not really safe to go around carrying it in your bag, is it?" her lips twitched.
They went quiet. A few snickers echoed through the auditorium.
"O...kay... How about a demonstration- no never mind. That won't be so safe." Victor tapped on his tablet.
"I-I can show you-" one from the side quickly carried a firework forward.
But it was wrapped in silk. And that boy was one heck of a clumsy one.
It slipped and fell in slow motion.
Before it could hit the floor, Beatrice was already up and moving. She grabbed her jacket and threw it over the mini-explosive a split second before it went off.
Nathaniel was next, a swift blur of motion.
Screams erupted as there was a muffled bang.
But the professor was already standing in front of the youngsters, arms spread wide.
"The extinguisher!" Victor shouted. Collins obliged.
Flames painted their terrified faces in warm hues. It all happened so fast, nobody even processed what was going on.
Not a second later, a fire extinguisher was thrown at Nathaniel. He caught it effortlessly, roughly pulling out the pin.
Smoke and mist mixed together as Beatrice guided the students away from the burning jacket.
The Auditorium was utterly undone. People were standing and watching, terrified. Some decided to flee completely, while others pulled out their phones to record.
A medic had promptly arrived and was now standing nearby, ready to check for injuries. After handing over the kids, the woman ran back to help her colleague.
Nathaniel was standing in front of a black mess of ash, breathing rough and face smudged with soot.
"Everything okay?" she asked, turning him around and scanning his face for damage.
Sure enough, there was a burn on his brow, and one on his cheek.
"Yeah, yeah, all good" he replied, a little breathless.
Beatrice scowled at him. "You can't just barge into an open fire like that!"
"What else was I supposed to do?! Watch it engulf everything?"
"I was literally standing-"
"Don't even imagine me letting you be the hero," he grumbled.
"This isn't about hero or villain, you idiot. You're hurt!"
He froze.
A second later, she did too.
"Wh-"
"You're hurt-" she quickly corrected, "and you burnt my jacket!"
"I did not do it on purpose, you-"
"Ahem."
They turned. Charles White stood on the stage, a meter away from them.
Both straightened immediately as he came forward to assess the damage.
"Are you all right, Professor?" he glanced at the remnants of Bea's jacket, before looking at Nathaniel.
"A few burns, nothing serious." he reassured.
He sighed, and shook his head.
"We need to filter the fire hazard projects next year."
. . .
"Mother, if you're here to bother me, then please, leave."
"Bother? Your wedding is in less than two weeks, and you go and ruin your face!"
Nathaniel took a deep breath.
The second his mother heard about his injuries, she demanded he come back to the Manor, even if it was just a minor burn.
Left with no other choice, he came to his office to work in peace, but he forgot this place had everything but peace.
"It's just a little scratch, it'll heal in no time." he mumbled, brows knitted.
Her brow twitched. "When was the last time you listened to me?"
"When was the last time a sentence out of your mouth was born out of pure concern?"
She froze.
He went silent too. That was a bit harsh.
But she did something unexpected.
Instead of insulting him back, she walked towards him.
Without even bending down to reach his chair's level, Aurelia pulled her son into a hug.
Nathaniel paused, blinking. His head pressed against her collarbone.
She smelt faintly of lavender.
"...Mother?"
"Nathan," she spoke softly, her head resting on top of his, "You know that I do everything for my family's benefit, right?"
She waited. He didn't respond.
The silence was enough of a reply.
Slowly, she released him enough to meet his eyes.
They looked unlike the mother Nathaniel grew up with.
Softer, filled with maternal passion, and...
Sorrow.
"I'll miss you, my boy."
"Since, you wouldn't want to stay in this house when you're married," she let him go completely, turning around, "don't forget me when you move out, alright?"
He didn't move.
Nathaniel watched as Aurelia walked to the door. It closed after her with a soft thud.
"That... was a strategy too, right?"
His hands trembled.
"To control me, right?"
The scent of lavender lingered.