Chapter Text
Sophie preened at herself in the mirror, admiring her shimmering, golden locks of hair and perfect complexion. There was a certain sense of pride, Sophie felt, in being the most beautiful of them all, even if she was older now (although no one could tell, thanks to her extensive anti-aging regimen). With a satisfied sigh, she fell back into the cushioned armchair and gently shut her eyes.
“Not getting enough beauty sleep?”
Sophie’s eyes snapped open. She could make out a tall, muscled figure, leaning against one of the walls in her private chambers and she stiffened slightly. However, Sophie didn’t even need to look at him in order to recognize the familiar voice. Hort.
Straightening her posture against the chair and adjusting her dress, Sophie cleared her throat and hoped she looked more dignified. Or stern. Like a proper Dean.
“Professor Hort, the amount of sleep I receive, beauty or otherwise, doesn’t seem to be any of your concern,” Sophie sniped. “Besides, what are you doing in my private chambers? Don’t you have a class to teach?”
“Cancelled,” Hort replied nonchalantly. To Sophie’s dismay, not an ounce of fear, respect, or awe showed on his face. He hadn’t even fully answered her questions, and worst of all, he dared to approach her.
Upon noticing Sophie’s glare, Hort smirked. “Same goes to you, Dean Sophie. Don’t you have a school to run?”
Sophie bristled at his patronizing tone. “Unlike you, bumbling around incompetently and teaching the children nonsense about who-knows-what and useless dates that happened three hundred years ago, I have the responsibility of being the face of Evil.” She patted her cheeks, performing her daily check for any blemishes, then leveled another withering glare in Hort’s direction.
Despite the iciness in her tone, Sophie was truly afraid. Afraid! Of Hort! Oh, how the tables had turned. Sophie never imagined the day would come, and now she didn’t need to imagine it at all, because it was real. She’d been avoiding him for the past few days, cooped up in her tower instead of lording over the school halls and commanding the students to perform her bidding, her favorite hobby these days.
The incident had happened when Sophie was headed to the cafeteria. Ever since she had taken over, the Nevers also enjoyed a sumptuous variety of food for lunch each day. We want to be Evil, not malnourished, Sophie had chided the cafeteria workers. Unfortunately, because the workers were all cave trolls, her statements fell onto (literally) deaf ears.
After negotiating with the nymphs for higher wages and a better health care package, Sophie managed to sway a few to come work in the cafeteria. Now that the food was palatable, the amount of times Sophie would descend to the cafeteria had increased from zero to a few times a month.
She had just happened to walk past Hort’s classroom that day when she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Sophie could hear the faint sound of giggling from within. And not just one girl, if she had heard correctly. Several.
Thoughts of souffles and tastefully arranged crudites vanished as Sophie impulsively barged into the classroom, pushing the door open with force. “What is going on in here-” she began, before stopping dead in her tracks at what she saw in front of her.
Hort, seated at one of the desks, was surrounded by a group of giggling Nevergirls. They sat in the desks around him, wide-eyed and rapt at attention. The braver ones were standing up and flanked the sides of his desk.
Once Sophie had regained her composure, she spoke again. “What are you doing during lunch in a professor’s classroom?” Sophie demanded, placing her hands on her hips.
“They wanted to ask me some questions after class about what we covered today,” Hort replied casually. “No need to get them in trouble.”
“As the Dean of this school, I’ll decide who gets in trouble here, Hort, thank you very much,” Sophie retorted. The other Nevergirls looked at her as if she was a rotting, maggot-infested apple (one of the healthier options on the previous lunch menu).
“You shouldn’t speak to Professor Hort that way,” one of them piped up, and the others nodded their head in agreement.
“Professor Hort deserves better,” she heard another mumble.
“Enough!” Sophie snapped. “Hort, this is highly inappropriate, and you should ask all of them to leave at once.”
“Why?” Hort asked, leaning back in his chair and resting his feet on the desktop. “I thought the EverNever Handbook didn’t forbid relations between students and teachers?” A renewed round of giggling emerged from the throng of Nevergirls around him.
Sophie felt a horrible sense of deja-vu wash over her. Having her own words be thrown back at her was a new low. It also made her blood boil to see him surrounded with all of these girls, particularly since their fervent idolism of him reminded him of Nicola. Liking Hort meant disliking Sophie. And Sophie loathed being disliked. But there was another reason why the whole scene made her uncomfortable, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was…
“I forbid it!” Sophie demanded. “I am the Dean of this school, which means-”
“You heard what Professor Hort says, if he wants to be with one of us, then he can!”
That was the statement that broke Sophie. Later, reflecting back on the moment, Sophie would argue with herself that it was the sheer impudence and inappropriateness of the remark, coupled with the necessity of establishing her power within the school and disciplining rogue students, that led her to what she did next.
Sophie stormed forward, breaking up the throng of girls that surrounded Hort. She grabbed the sides of Hort’s face with her hands and bent down so that her eyes were level with his. Disregarding the shock in his eyes and the rather alarming fact that it appeared that he had stopped breathing for a second, Sophie took in a deep breath and pressed her lips against his.
At first, Hort didn’t react at all, his lips still as a statute and his hands by his side. But Sophie pressed harder, and then harder still, biting and gnawing at his lips in a frenzy. She pushed his feet off the desk and slid on top of his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist. In response, Hort reciprocated her frantic, almost crazed passion in kind, pulling her closer on his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed clumsily at first, no technique appearing behind his moves, just pure enthusiasm. But slowly, Sophie guided him until they were working together like a well-oiled machine, his soft, warm lips moving and overlapping on hers. And once Hort had gotten a taste, he was insatiable. He pulled her in for a deeper kiss, but Sophie’s head was spinning and she broke free.
As they both took deep, gasping breaths, they slowly gazed at each other. The Nevergirls had long fled, though that was the furthest thought on Sophie’s mind when there were a thousand other thoughts. She couldn’t quite read the expression on Hort’s face and the suddenly tense atmosphere in the room made her anxious.
“Well,” Sophie began, then paused. Feeling the anxiety swelling like she was about to vomit, she pushed herself off Hort’s lap and did the responsible, adult thing…and ran.
As Sophie fled the classroom that day, she hadn’t looked back, not once. But now, she had nowhere to run, and she could do nothing but look forward at the man behind it all.