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“What the hell are you wearing!?” Diana yelled, dying of laughter.
Caine stood in her dorm’s doorway, leaning against the wooden siding, staring with his mouth half-open, eyes shocked by the girl’s sudden outburst.
It was the Halloween School Dance. Seeing as everyone lived here at Coates, there was no reason not to go. Unless you were afraid of getting hurt by anyone with a tempter, which made up at least seventy-five percent of the school’s population.
As ‘head’ of the school, Caine wore something he thought would explain itself. A king, a monarch from the early 1500’s. With a dark purple leotards, embroidered with gold, a ferrite-skinned cape that draped from his neck, along with light purple, almost white hose, he looked exactly like any type of royalty from the Renaissance. Too bad for him, this was the twenty-first century, and anyone who dressed like that was either mocked for life, or classified in various categories no one really wanted to be put in. No one was stupid enough to laugh or make fun of him, however, or they knew they’d face certain death. Everyone but Diana Ladris.
“You don’t like it?” he frowned, adjusting the golden crown on his head, holding a metal scepter in one hand, a pink rose in the other. Quickly, he handed Diana the flower, his smile trying to reform on his lips.
Laughing hard enough to make her bend over with cramps, Diana brushed Caine’s hand away, shooing the rose from her. Her intense cries of pure amusement had brought her into tears. “Y-you look…. Y-you look,” she died, trying to calm herself. Every time her laughter would loose its momentum, she’d look up, see Caine, and it would start right back up again.
Obviously, this did not amuse Caine the least bit. He had spent a good amount of money on an outfit like this, seeing as all of it was real material. He had to look the part to fit it, right? Pushing himself from the doorframe, he glared down at the laughing girl, crossing his arms. “It’s not that funny.” he growled, trying to keep his voice low, which got harder every second.
Diana knew her actions would get her killed, but she couldn’t help herself. He looked ridiculous. Caine Soren was wearing spandex! Spandex! How could you not laugh? Unless you were terrified of him, of course, but he was in love with her. There wasn’t a thought in her mind that lead anywhere to him killing her. Hurting her, if she kept this up, then yes, but not enough to kill her.
Sucking in a deep breath, calming herself, Diana sighed, straightening herself back up, and shook her head. Her face was red from her laughing fit, her dark eyes had a wet tint to them. It took all of her will to keep from loosing it again.
Once Diana calmed down, Caine offered the rose to her once again. This time, her sigh wasn’t happy. Unwillingly, she took the flower, tossing it back onto her bed. Caine pretended not to notice, or care, but it was painfully clear how much that hurt. But what did he expect? This was Diana Ladris.
“What are you going as?” he asked, irritation still thick in his voice.
Diana shrugged, keeping her eyes directly at Caine’s face, fearing of looking down. “A sarcastic, teenage girl who enjoys laughing at people who dress like clowns?”
This didn’t help with Caine’s mood. Furious, he grabbed Diana by the arm, dragging her from the room.
Quickly, she twisted her arm from his grip. “Someone’s grumpy,” she mumbled, wiping the remainder of water from her eyes.
Caine ignored her, keeping as much rage and anger under control, at least until they met up with Drake. “You really should dress up as something.” he said at last, ending the awkward silence between the two of them as they walked the halls. Diana shrugged, not saying anything in return. “You’d look great in a dress,” Her head shot up, staring at Caine, and the awkwardness of her expression told him that he must have been blushing while stating that fact.
Shaking his head, it was his turn to shrug. “You know you would.”
“No, Caine, YOU think I would. You want me to go as your Princess or something?”
When Caine didn’t object, Diana laughed again, but not nearly as hard or long as her last outburst. She shook her head, mumbling something under her breath that sounded a lot like ‘pathetic’. Feeling horrible, both embarrassed, heart-broke, and enraged, Caine spoke no more to her on their walk.

The gym wasn’t huge. It wasn’t small, but was definitely not huge. There were at least a hundred kids in the gym already. Coates didn’t have a huge population of kids, at least threndred or more, but it was still early, and normally more people would be here by now. The only explanation was that Drake must have been here, in an even crappier mood than Caine. And sure enough, his voice could be heard, roaring through the gym, from just outside the doors.
Diana and Caine exchanged confused glances before slowly entering the room. Looking over at the punch and food tables, the two both stared, half terrified, half curious. Maybe a bit more terrified than curious.
Two figures seemed to be the main attraction. One was obvious Drake, the other was facing the opposite direction, seeming to be dressed up as some type of creator, crying out like a baby. With further observation, one could tell that Drake seemed to be dripping with something, soaked, actually. The punch bowl lay broken on the floor, lying not too far from the other kid’s body. Drake continued lifting his leg in the air, bringing it down repeatedly on the kid, each time making the poor boy produce a sound that was similar to one of a ran-over dying deer.
Everyone watched. No one moved. Not even the teachers stepped in to help, fearful that they’d be taking the place of the kid at the mercy of Drake Merwin. Confused, Caine grabbed the nearest kid, a younger, creepier-looking kid half dressed as what could be a mummy named Bug, and drug him over to the door with Diana. “Who made Drake mad?”
“And wet?” Diana added, still watching the scene with wide eyes.
Bug looked form Caine, to Diana, then back at Caine before answering in a whisper, trembling voice, “Andrew, he met some girl here. He was trying to impress her with some dance move, hit the table, and sent the punch bowl at Drake. Nearly everyone left after that.”
“The bowl broke when it hit Drake?” Diana asked spastically.
Bug shook his head, still shaking. “No. Drake picked it up and smashed it over Andrew’s face. Not his head. His face.”
Caine looked a bit uncomfortable, but not scared. He owned Drake, thus, he’d never become fearful of the demon. However, his tempter tantrums always ended up more dramatic then they needed to be. Shaking his head, he gestured for Bug to leave and went towards the spazzing psychopath.
Once closer, Andrew’s screams became almost painful to listen to. Blood covered the floor, not in puddles, but enough to make the kid probably feel light-headed. This had gone on long enough. “Drake,” Caine called, only to be ignored. “Drake,” he called again, angrier, louder. With no response, clearly being purposely put aside, Caine stepped over Andrew’s whimpering body, grabbed Drake by the wrist, kneed him in the gut, then forcefully pushed him against the wall.
Drake cursed, thrashed, and threatened Caine, still in a deranged state. Though, after getting kneed a few more times, he finally calmed down, and Caine let him go. Looking back where Andrew was, only inches behind them, they noticed that only his blood remained. He’d owe Caine later.
“What was that for?” Drake spat, flying to his feet. Though, once he got a full look at Caine, he paused, started, then began laughing twice as hard, twice as hard as Diana had. Before his hit could last any more than ten seconds, Caine punched the boy in the chest, not as hard as he intended it to be, but hard enough for him to get the point.
Even though it didn’t make him stop completely, Drake hadn’t began crying like Diana. Breathing heavily, not so much as glancing at Caine, he held up one hand. “Dude. That’s not even mildly attractive.”
Diana nodded from behind Caine, out of his sight, but Drake saw and laughed one more time before standing up completely. Instead of looking at Caine, his eyes stared at the trail of blood Andrew left behind. Running one sticky, punch-covered hand through his shaggy, messy, equally punchy hair, he walked past the two. His chuckles could still be heard, probably waiting to erupt once Caine was far enough away. “I’m going to go scare the crap out of the new kids. And Caine,” he paused, turning around just enough to get him into view. “I’m not sure if I should be embarrassed for you, or for me, for knowing you.” Before Caien could react, he rushed from the gym, into the halls, where a deep, howling laugher began to echo throughout the school.
By now, very few people still remained in the gym. There were about three couples in the back, kissing, hugging, doing a few things Caine wished he hadn’t laid eyes on, but did nothing about it. Drake was out of the way. There were very little people still around, all seeming to be talking to one another, not paying the slightest attention to Caine and Diana. He smiled. They could do so much right now, and no one would know. Or care. But them. Just like the couple in the back of the room. Diana wouldn’t go for it, Caine already knew that.
“What now?” Diana asked, giving Caine a knowing look like she could read his mind. He didn’t respond at first, the soft, creepy music from the dance playing from behind them the only noise either of them heard. The song was more upbeat, not romantic or slow-dance-like. But if they stood here too long, saying nothing, Diana would surely get bored and leave.
Taking her hand quickly in his, Caine pulled Diana a few inches closer to himself, leaving very little room between the two. “Diana Ladris,” he began, whispering in her ear. “Will you have this dance with me?”
Diana pulled away, blinking, but did not look completely discuared with this idea. “You just got Drake off Andrew, were called a moron twice, and you ask a question like that? You seriously suck at everything romantic, don’t you?” Her tone wasn’t mean, but it wasn’t playful or joking, either. Almost serious.
Caine said nothing, waiting for her actual answer, not a statement of what they already knew. Within a few more seconds, Diana sighed, then nodded. “Whatever.”
Drawing her into an awkward hold, one hand around her waist, the other in her palm, Caine moved back and forth, very slowly, very uncomfortably. Diana did the same, but wrapped her arm around his neck. After a few seconds of standing in a waltz pose, but clearly not doing the waltz, they pulled their hands away from each other, reaching around to meet the ones resting on each other.
Caine’s breathes were uneven, nervous, and Diana quickly noticed. Without knowing why, she drew him closer, like he had done to her, and rested her chin on his shoulder. “Again, you are pathetic,” she whispered in his ear, closing her eyes. It only lasted for a second, and there was no explanation why, but Diana wished she had the rose Caine had given her, holding it in her hands at this moment. Once she realized her thought, she opened her eyes and lifted her chin. Caine stiffened a bit, tightening his grasp on her, not wanting to let her go. Seeing as she was probably not going to get out of this without a.) making a big deal about it, yelling at Caine, and forcing him to let her go, or b.) waiting until Caine was too tired to hold her any longer, she rested her chin back on his shoulder.
There were six sets of screams that hollered from behind the two of them, but they were ignored. Probably just Drake again. But Diana became a bit curious when the cursing and name calling began. None of the voices belonged to their little psycho. Blinking, she noticed two figures holding bottles of pop, just inches from Caine and herself. From behind them, the three couples, not drenched with liquid, stormed out of the gym. Realizing what was going on, Diana shook her head at the boys, trying to warn them. Clearly, they didn’t know, from behind, that their next target was Caine, and if they ruined this moment for him, they’d be dead by midnight.
But, like most people, the boys were idiots. Opening the cans, lifting them just inches from Caine and Diana’s head, Diana pushed away from Caine, staggering backwards, just out of the aiming area, and cupped her hands over her mouth, staring at what was going on. First, it was Caine’s confused, shocked expression from her pulling away. Not even half a second later, the pop came out of the bottles, pouring onto Caine’s head, which made his face change drastically. Followed by this, in that very same second, the two boys turned pale, probably realizing who it was they just soaked. At the very beginning of the next second, Caine’s face was beet red, fuming, eyes slits, and reaching for the fleeing boy’s throats.
Diana stood alone in the gym, staring off after where Caine had ran off to. The screams of the boys came not even five seconds later, much, much worse than the ones Andrew was making. A little smirk formed on her lips before she left the gym to go to her dorm. “ And in the end, King Caine still never stole the heart of Princess Diana.”