How Not To Fall For A Dragon Chapter 22

**LEXI**

FINALLY, it’s lunch time again. And the academy clearly knows that I am stressed and a little tired because there is chocolate cake being served with the lunch options. Hell. Yes! I get myself a serving of what is basically a really fancy cheese sandwich, then grab a slice of cake. I don’t even hesitate, my body has already decided this is necessary. Blake follows along behind me, taking note of my choices, his attention sharp in that way it gets when he’s quietly cataloguing information, and taking my plate to hold it for me, which I think is quite chivalrous because he is also somehow managing to juggle his own. I feel a little bad since I’m not holding anything. It’s such a small thing, but I’m not used to people just… Taking over like that without being asked. When I reach to take my plate, he pulls it out of my reach and glares at me.

“Uh… Is there a reason you’re glaring right now?” I ask, a little confused. Blake relaxes slightly and shrugs, as if he hadn’t realised his expression had slipped into something sharp.

“I will carry this.” He says firmly.

“Well, yeah. I got that. And if you really want to, that's fine. But seriously, glaring?” I ask, my eyebrow raised at his overreaction. He huffs out an annoyed breath.

“Look, I can see that you’re still… A little bit distressed.” He says. 

“I really have no idea how to fix these things. I’m not good at it.” He admits. There’s frustration there, not with me, but with himself.

“My instincts are telling me I should make sure that you are in a safe place and make sure you have plenty of food. But you wouldn’t be happy if I dragged you out of here because you’re all good and want to attend your classes and shit. And the academy takes care of the food thing so I can’t even ACTUALLY help with that. So I’m carrying it. Okay?” He says, a little forcefully. He pauses, jaw tight.

“It’s not for you, it’s for me. To make me feel better.” He grumbles, as if embarrassed that I might think that he is being nice again. His words land as strangely, protective, but also a little self-serving. Like he’s being honest about the fact that this isn’t about reassurance, not completely at least. It’s about control. About settling something restless in himself. I give him a soft smile.

“Well… If it will make you feel better. I suppose you can carry it for me.” I agree. And weirdly, letting him do that makes me feel better too, not because I need it, but because he WANTS to do something, anything, to make sure I’m okay. Once we are seated at the table and Blake has returned my plate to me, I decide to start with the cake. Because why not? I moan happily as I eat. Yeah, that’s MUCH better. Blake seems to settle a little too and starts eating his own lunch. It’s subtle, but I can see it, the tension easing from his shoulders now that I’m distracted and calmer.

“You shouldn’t worry so much.” He lectures between bites. I sigh.

“I can’t help it. It’s stressful not knowing what I am.” I complain. He frowns.

“I told you I will figure it out. I suspect that you are something rare which is just… Fascinating…” He trails off. His eyes gleam with excitement and something else… Something that makes my stomach tighten. Lust, maybe? But not the physical kind. More like the kind of desire you feel when you spot something rare and valuable and immediately start thinking about how to keep it. Protect it. Make sure no one else can touch it. It’s not warm or flattering. It’s intent. Focused. And it’s more than a little disconcerting to have that kind of look directed at me. It makes my skin prickle. I clear my throat uncomfortably.

“Maybe…” I mumble. Blake seems to realise that he’s acting oddly and straightens up a little. He doesn’t apologise or anything, but he gives me a slight nod, an acknowledgement that he noticed my discomfort and deliberately reined himself in.

“So, we have one more class, then free time. Do you want to meet up for dinner again?” I say, redirecting the subject. 

“Yes.” He agrees immediately.

“Cool, then maybe another movie afterwards?” I add. He nods again. Perfect. Structure. Routine. Predictability. That feels grounding. I can handle that. I’ll use the free time this afternoon to do a bit of reading, call my parents, stuff like that. Then I’ll hang out with Blake afterwards. I think setting up a routine for myself will be helpful for making this all seem a bit less overwhelming. At least my next class is Medicinal Magic again. I’m excited for that.

Once again, Blake walks me to class. I’m a LITTLE worried he’s going to be late to his own. I mention it, and he brushes it off with a confidence that suggests it genuinely won’t be an issue. I’m not entirely sure whether that’s because he won’t be late… Or because he doesn’t CARE if he’s late. Probably the second one. To be safe, I pick up my pace anyway. Blake, meanwhile, strolls along beside me like time is a flexible suggestion rather than a fixed rule. I don’t think it’s actually possible to rush him. He moves at his own speed, completely unbothered. Whenever Blake arrives somewhere is exactly when he intended to arrive. Which makes me appreciate something very specific. Every time we’ve arranged to meet, he’s been early. Or at least on time. That feels intentional. I also appreciate that, whatever his own relationship with punctuality might be, he’s making sure I’M not late. He adjusts his pace just enough to match mine, even though it’s clear he doesn’t feel the same pressure I do. It’s oddly reassuring, like he’s decided my priorities are worth accommodating, even if he doesn’t really share them. When we reach my Medicinal Magic class, Blake peels off toward his own class with a casual nod, and I head inside feeling lighter than I did earlier. I take a seat near the front of the room, eager despite the long morning. As students filter in, the pattern repeats itself. People glance at the empty seat beside me… And then choose to sit literally anywhere else. Row by row, the space stays conspicuously vacant. Eventually, the very last student arrives. She’s a girl I haven’t met before. I offer a small, welcoming smile, hoping to make it less awkward for her. She looks away immediately, shoulders tightening, and pretends to be very interested in literally anything else. I bite back a sigh. Instead of reacting, I pull out my textbook and flip it open, giving her space. She hovers awkwardly near the desk until Professor Young enters the room, and only then does she sit, perching herself at the far edge of the chair, angling her body away from me like proximity alone might be contagious. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. She doesn’t have to TALK to me. That’s FINE. But this level of performance feels unnecessary. Still, I decide it’s not worth my energy. I didn’t come here to manage other people’s discomfort. Professor Young begins the lecture, and I focus in. Much of it is basic anatomy and first aid, important foundations before any magical applications, and a lot of it overlaps with my nursing studies. Thanks to the extra reading I did yesterday, very little of it is completely new. My mind wanders just enough that I start reading ahead in the textbook, but I keep my notes open beside me, adding to them whenever the Professor includes an example the book doesn’t cover, or explains something in a particularly clear way. At one point, Professor Young starts pacing the room as she talks. When she passes my desk, she glances down at my notes. My instinctive reaction is to stiffen, like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. Instead, she smiles at me. Her expression is warm, approving, and keeps walking. It’s a tiny thing. Barely a moment. But it lands harder than I expect. By the time class ends, I’m walking out with a genuine smile on my face, and it only grows when I see Blake waiting outside. Seriously. How does he keep doing that? How did he even get here right as my class finished? Is he ditching the last few minutes of his classes just to make it here before mine ends? 

“Hey.” I greet him, amused. 

“I thought we were meeting after free time for dinner?” I point out. He shrugs, completely unbothered.

 “Are you heading back to the dorm for free time?” He asks. I nod.

 “Yeah.” I answer. 

“Then I’ll walk back with you.” He says, like this was never in question. I smile, and without thinking, I link my arm through his.

“Alrighty then. Lead the way.” I say lightly.