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"You're using me," Beatrix says.
Riven doesn't hear her. He hums, and keeps scrolling Instagram, checking to see if maybe she's posted. Maybe it'll be another landscape view from one of her morning jogs, or an album cover that he'll have to look up and listen to in the dark, pretending that they're listening to it together, trying to gauge what she was thinking and if any of the lyrics are relevant to him-
"I said: you're using me to make Musa jealous."
He hears her that time, because Musa's name still makes his head whip up embarrassingly quickly. Beatrix meets his look with a cool, perfectly manicured, raised eyebrow, and he splutters. "What? No I'm fucking not, Musa-who?"
"Wow." She sighs, turning back to her History book. "You're a bad liar. Good to know."
He grits his teeth, infuriated by her usual condescension. "I am not-"
"Yes, you are. Let's not live in denial, shall we? You're using me to make her jealous, and I'm using you to get past Dowling. It's a win-win."
"Is that all I am to you?" He asks, reaching over to touch the hem of her short skirt in the darkness.
She turns the page of her book primly. "Yes."
"Ouch."
His phone lights up and his attention flicks back to it.
She's posted.
He refreshes the app and sure enough, it's a photo of the sunset out of her Suite-window. She's captioned it quiet time <3
Why has she said that? Is she struggling to cope with the noise of emotions again? Is Terra exuding social anxiety? Riven fucking hates it when Terra does that. Hates that Musa never has the heart to really tell Terra to piss the fuck off. That was Riven's job. He liked doing it. He was good at it-
"This is so pathetic." Beatrix sighs, plucking the phone from Riven's hands.
"Hey-" he reaches for it, misses because she's bony and compact and strong, "-give it back."
"I will." She promises, but her promises don't really mean that much, so he shuffles closer to her and watches what she's doing. He trusts her to some extent. Not with his life, or anything, in fact, he fears for his life a little, whenever they're moving through dark dungeons together. But with his social standing? He trusts her. She plays the game of High-School politics well.
She clicks on his photos app and scrolls.
He wants to stop her, but he knows it's futile.
She finds the photos and scrolls through them perfunctorily. Zooming in sometimes, taking them in, her eyes analytical and sharp. He wonders what she's seeing.
He's looked at the photos too much lately. Can't bring himself to delete them.
Him and Musa, arms wrapped tight around each other. Candids, days out, Halloween-costumes. Their failed science project. His favourite, the one that if it were a print out would be the most worn with thumb-smudges and creases, is the one that Beatrix is currently studying.
Sky took it, and Riven owes him for it. In the photo, he's sitting on the couch in the common room, legs sprawled out onto the coffee table, and Musa is tucked into his side, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, their fingers locked together, and looking the perfect picture of love.
He remembers the feeling, if he closes his eyes and lets himself, of her kisses. Of her touch.
"Wow." Beatrix says finally, and she sounds less judgemental than he thought she would, as she hands his phone back. "For a couple of teenagers, that looks pretty intense."
"It was," he admits roughly, "she's an empath and she...fuckin' saw through me, I guess. It's intense."
"Must be strange," she murmurs, "to be seen right to your core and loved." Her voice is thoughtful. "Someone seeing your whole soul, even all the bad parts, and loving you anyway."
Riven's heart clenches and he turns away. "Yeah." He spits out, "strange."
There's a long, awful silence, before she touches his arm awkwardly. "If you want to make her jealous, you're going about it the wrong way."
Riven turns to her, wonders when she'll stop surprising him.
"Well," she continues, "I'm assuming you're hoping that her jealousy will trigger something between the two of you. A conversation? A reunion? I don't know. I do know it would be better if you just went and spoke to her but I don't need to be an empath to see that you are clearly emotionally constipated. So, you want her to be jealous? You have me on side, it'll be a piece of cake."
"It's tempting, devil-woman," he hums, forcing a smile, "but I don't think she'll want me back anyway."
"Oh, I don't know," Beatrix sings, grinning, "people often want what they can't have. Trust me."
***
He knew Beatrix was a good actress, but it turns out she was barely even trying before. She tries now, with seductive eyes and a sway in her hips, and she bites the apple from his mouth as they walk, his arm slung over her shoulders, through the cafeteria.
He doesn't know how she orchestrated it, but the timing is perfect, and Musa and Aisha are right there and witness every gesture of their perfect movement.
Musa flinches hard, struct by the sight, and she turns and immediately high-tails it out of the cafeteria. Aisha runs after her.
"There, see?" Beatrix grins, and Riven doesn't know how to feel. It doesn't feel as good as he thought it would. He likes that she's jealous, he likes that she still wants him, but he hates that she might think he and Beatrix are real.
He hates that she might be comparing herself to Beatrix of all people-
As if stung, he yanks his arm away from her; doesn't want to touch her anymore.
"That was too much." He grits out, hands in his hair.
"That was too much?" She scoffs, "we didn't even kiss."
God, why did he think this was a good idea? He storms away from her, heading in the direction that he think Musa went, and then he stops short because he can hear crying.
"I'm so stupid," Musa hiccups, and Riven sinks against the wall, heart-thudding in his ears. "What did I think was going to happen?"
"It's okay." Aisha soothes, "it'll be okay."
"He moved on so fast." She whispers, voice cracking, "like it didn't mean anything, like we didn't mean-"
"Hey man," Sky says, appearing almost out of nowhere, and making Riven jump so hard he nearly cracks his head on the wall. "I need your help."
Riven lets Sky tow him away for the latest crisis, but his mind hears Musa crying, and he just thinks of all the mistakes he's made.
***
He's standing outside the Winx Suite, working up the courage to knock, when the door opens and Terra looks up at him in surprise.
"Oh, Riven." She says, disappointed, like she was expecting someone else. "Musa's actually not here."
"Bullshit." He calls, because he may not be a good liar, but he's a damn sight better than Terra. "I want to talk to her. Please. Just tell her I'm here. That I'm sorry."
Terra eyes him dubiously, but she nods and closes the door.
Riven wipes his palms on his jeans, tries to take a deep breath, and when the door opens-
It's Musa.
She's in her pyjamas, some matching cotton get-up, and she looks so soft. "Hey." He whispers, afraid that he'll scare her away.
Musa keeps one hand on the door and doesn't open it all the way. Her face is guarded. "Hey."
"Look, I...I'm not- I just....can I come in?"
She bites her lip. "It's late." She says eventually. It isn't no.
"I'll be quiet."
Another long pause. Before she sighs, and lets him follow her into her bedroom. Terra's gone, thankfully, leaving behind only about ten-million little plants cluttering every corner.
He doesn't know where to stand, so he sort of hovers in the middle of the room. Musa sits on her bed and looks up at him expectantly. Only her lamp is on, and the room is lit a gentle gold.
"So," she prompts, when he doesn't speak. "What did you want to say?"
"Right," he clears his throat, wrings his hands, tries to remember any of the speech he crafted in his head on the way over. "I was never dating Beatrix. I was faking. To get you to...notice me." It sounds so stupid when he says it aloud.
Her lips part in surprise and she stares at him.
He barrels onwards. If he doesn't say it now, he might never. "I never stopped- loving you, I'm not sure if that's what you thought, but that isn't what happened. I don't know what happened, I think, I...commitment and me? It's never really clicked in my head, but you- you see me, and you're the only person who sees me and for some reason, I don't think I'll ever get why, you like what you see- or at least, you did. And you're...with you, I feel...sometimes when I'm with people I feel like I only half exist, but with you I feel whole. If that isn't the lamest thing I've ever said."
Musa's eyes sparkle and her voice is soft, "It's not lame." She pats the bedsheets beside her and he immediately joins her there. It's closer than intended, and her breath hitches, and he can't help but glance down at her lips. "Riven..."
"I didn't even realise it," he mutters, "but I was using Beatrix to make you jealous. I just wanted to see if- I wanted proof that you still cared."
"I'll always care."
He reaches for her hand. Holds it in both of his. "Will you give me another shot?" He asks, feeling raw and exposed.
She gives him a half-smile, something playful in her face. "You can't keep being such a dick."
He tries to look innocent. "Me?"
She laughs, and he thinks of that photo he has on his phone that he doesn't think he'll ever delete. He wants more of those moments with her. He wants albums and albums of them. "So, that apple-thing? That was you trying to make me jealous?" She asks.
He leans forward and kisses the edge of her mouth. "Seems like it kind of worked."
She laughs again, "such a dick," she says, before she kisses him.
He deepens it, and then wonders if this wasn't Beatrix's plan the whole time.
Damn. He owes her big time.