Chapter 1: The Lion and the Leopard

Wytham House School: a place of prestige, privilege, and primal passions. On this particular day, the halls were alive with excitement. Something was happening, and the students could sense it in the air, like the scent of a storm brewing. Whispers and rumors spread like wildfire, everyone talking about the same thing: Railings and Hawthorne were fighting again.

Down the hall, a boy sprinted past, his footsteps echoing in the corridor.

"Who's fighting?!" someone shouted after him. The boy didn't even turn around, but his loud and hurried voice carried the answer.

"Railings and Hawthorne! Near the tennis courts!"

That was all it took. Like a flock of birds startled from their roost, the students burst from their classrooms, streaming out into the school yard. Boys and girls, some breathless and some whooping with excitement, poured from every corner. They ran, tumbling over each other in their haste, eager to see the spectacle that was about to unfold.

On one side of the court, Eiluned Railings stood with his arms crossed, his face twisted into a mask of fury. On the other, Kent Hawthorne leaned against the fence, a smirk playing on his lips. They stood several yards apart, the tension between them so thick that even the air around them seemed to ripple.

"So, Railings," Hawthorne drawled. "What do you have to say for yourself this time?"

Railings didn't answer. He simply glowered at Hawthorne, his lips pressed into a thin, cold line. "You're such a coward Hawthorne, throwing me off the line like that. It isn't my fault that you got daddy issues."

The words hit Hawthorne like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, the smirk faded from his face. But only for a moment. He recovered quickly, his expression hardening into a dangerous glint.

"Oh, Railings. So predictable. Always using the same old insults. Always trying to compensate for something." He pushed off from the fence, stepping closer to Railings. "Let's see if you can back up that big mouth with a little action. Or are you just a little coward yourself?"

"I'm no coward, Hawthorne. But I'm also not a fool." Railings' voice was ice cold, his eyes boring into Hawthorne's. "You want a fight? Let's do it."

It was like a bet but their hate towards each other burnt their heart and that was enough for them to start fighting.

Hawthorne was the first to land a punch and Railings followed. Hawthorne was quick, moving like a cat, his fists darting out with deadly precision but Railings was strong, his punches hitting like a hammer. The crowd erupted into cheers and jeers as the two boys kept on exchanging blow after blow. Railings was breathing hard, his body covered in sweat, but he refused to back down. Hawthorne was smiling, his eyes alight with excitement, relishing the thrill of the fight. Their fists blurring in a flurry of jabs and hooks, each trying to land a knockout punch. But neither was willing to give up, and the fight dragged on, round after round, until both boys were bleeding and bruised.

The bell rang and some of the teachers were approaching the fight. It was rather too late but it was always like that. The students of Wytham respected the fight very well that they never alert the teachers until it's over.

Now in fury, the headmaster stood at his office. He was seeing red, not knowing what to do with the two delinquent who were sent kneeling on the floor. They were still bloody and bruised, kneeling a few feet away from each other. The aura of hate radiate around them.

"Mr Hawthorne, Mr Railings. I thought you two would have been tired by now." The headmaster barked as he continued. "But it's clear you'll never get tired."

"He star—"

"I di—"

"Shut up." He commanded, fiercely. "Your parents pay a lot of money to send you here so you could learn. Did they pay for a wrestling ring?"

Railings and Hawthorne fell silent, their eyes fixed on the floor. They knew that they were in deep trouble, but neither was willing to back down, even in the face of the headmaster's fury.

The headmaster sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "Mr Hawthorne, no need to say anything. Your behavior has filled the pages of our black book, and you have broken the rules more than anyone else. Ain't you ashamed of yourself?"

Hawthorne bristled, but bit his tongue. Railings, however, couldn't resist. "Sir—"

"Mr Railings, you're no better than him. How many times have you broken the school rules? Your reputation is that of an angry wolf hunting for food in the woods. This is not a playground for you to hunt about." The headmaster said with a stern look. "The board came up with a decision a few weeks ago, that if this continues to go on then you'll have to be forced to move in together."

Railings gritted his teeth, biting back the urge to defend himself. But he could feel his temper rising, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Sir, I'm alright with my current roommate." He said, his tone icy.

"Mr Railings, your opinion does not matter now." The headmaster said, making Railings scoff in return. "What matters now is that the two of you cannot continue down this path. It is a bad one. You two were transferred here for reasons I know. One of those reasons is to make sure you two are off the streets. That means you two must learn to co-exist, here at the Wytham House School."

Railings frowned, glancing over at Hawthorne. Kent Hawthorne scoffed, "I'm not moving in with him."

"We're not here to negotiate, you two will move in together and be roommates. Of course that's not the only punishment since your sins are longer than the line of the equator. You'll do community service as well." The headmaster was very determined.

"Sir I'd rather just do the community service, I cannot share a room with Mr Hawthorne here." As politely as he could, he was basically begging to be released from a pit.

"That's too bad Mr Railings, it's either that or you two are to be expelled from the school." The headmaster told them. "Do not worry, you can take your time to think about it and make a decision. Remember, you have to come up with one decision because you'll be moving as a pair."

"But sir—" he was harshly interrupted.

"I believe we're done here, I'll be expecting your answer by the end of the day or I'll call your parents in to process the decision to expell you from school. Now leave both of you." The boys didn't waste their time begging the headmaster for mercy, they walked out with tails between their legs.

"It's not happening." Railings said as soon as they stepped out of the headmaster's office.

"What?" Hawthorne scoffed.

"You and me. Together. Roommates." It sounded like a bitter liquid on his tongue. "It's not happening."

"No joke, it's not happening but you have no choice. Do you think I want this? Imagine, you and I, together in a room. Sharing a space, sharing everything. Just imagine it, Railings. The two of us, night after night…" Hawthorne stepped even closer, until he was almost nose-to-nose with Railings. "Can you think of anything more torturous?"

"That's why it's not supposed to happen." Railings said once more.

Hawthorne scoffed with a smirk, "You'd rather get expelled huh?" he looked at the taller with a half smile. "But I know you, Railings, you won't give up. You'll never give up. So, what'll it be? Expulsion, or me?"

Railings took a long, measured breath, his shoulders tensing as if he were preparing to launch himself at Hawthorne. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, the tension in his body seemed to melt away.

"Fine," he said, his voice barely audible. "Fine. I'll do it."

A slow, wicked smile spread across Hawthorne's face like he just won lottery. "That's my Railings," he said, his voice dripping with mock affection. "Always so quick to make the wrong decision."

"It's not like the year will end with us sharing a room so let's get it done and get over it yeah? You'll be the one transferring schools soon." Placing his hands deep inside his pockets, he walked away from the shorter male.

The news about the two enemies sharing a room spread like wildfire. Some were betting on them fighting everyday while the others bet on them getting expelled. And some thought they might get along well, but the chances were very low on that one.

Eiluned Railings walked down the hall and stopped outside his new room, Hawthorne's room, their room. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to take a deep breath, steeling his resolve. Then, without hesitation, he opened the door.

The room was small, dimly lit by a single lamp. The smell of stale air and laundry hung heavy in the air. And there, sprawled out on the bottom bunk, was Hawthorne. He looked up from his book, his eyes fixing on Railings, his smirk smug and self-satisfied.

"Well, well, well. Welcome to my humble abode," Hawthorne drawled, his smirk widening into a self-satisfied grin. "I hope you're comfortable with a little mess." He gestured around the room, which was a disaster zone of clothes, books, and discarded snacks. "I like to think of it as creative chaos."

Railings resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a loud click. He tossed his backpack on the desk, refusing to meet Hawthorne's gaze.

"So, roomie," Hawthorne said, leaning back on his bunk with an amused glint in his eye. "I've been thinking about our little living arrangement. And I thought we could come up with some ground rules to keep the peace."

Railings raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "What kind of ground rules?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Hawthorne shrugged. "Oh, you know, the basics. No noise after 10pm. No leaving your dirty underwear on the floor. No throwing punches in the middle of the night."

Railings narrowed his eyes, fixing Hawthorne with a piercing stare. "I can agree to the first two, but I make no promises about the third." He said, his voice edged with a hint of warning.

Hawthorne's smirk faltered for a moment before he recovered, a mischievous gleam returning to his eyes. "Well, you know what they say, Eiluned," he said, stressing Railings' first name with a teasing lilt. "Make love, not war."

Railings snorted."I'm sure you're used to making love so that's out of the question Hawthorne."

"I'm being civil here." He threw a fit.

"You're testing my patience Hawthorne, becareful or I might just bite." His warning was very stern. But Kent Hawthorne was a silly boy who never took anything serious.

"I'd love to know how good can you bite Railings." He mocked.

Railings' jaw clenched at the comment. He knew that Hawthorne was baiting him, trying to get a rise out of him, and part of him wanted nothing more than to give in to the urge and wipe the smug look off Hawthorne's face. But he held himself in check, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"I'm not like you, Hawthorne," he said, his voice low and even. "I don't go around starting fights just for the hell of it. And I definitely don't go around… 'making love' just for the hell of it."

Hawthorne's eyes widened slightly, and for the briefest moment, his expression was one of surprise. "No?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were just as big a manwhore as me. But I guess you're more of a...prude, huh?"

Railings' jaw clenched even tighter, but he refused to give Hawthorne the satisfaction of knowing he'd struck a nerve. Instead, he fixed Hawthorne with a cold stare. "Just remember," he said, his voice low and deadly serious.

"Remember what, Railings?" Hawthorne asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice. "Are you going to threaten me? Tell me you're gonna rip my throat out if I say one more word?"

Railings smirked, leaning forward slightly. "No," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm just going to remind you that I know your type. You think you're untouchable, untameable. But you're not. There are always consequences, Hawthorne."