Chapter 149: Chapter 149: The Cool Group
And with that, she pressed a button on her locker; it beeped, locking shut. She turned to him, "Your ego is even more inflated than your supposed Vitae potential." She pushed off the locker, her movement casual, decisive.
"Don’t mistake my interest in watching an idiot get put in his place for... whatever fantasy you’re spinning."
She strode down the corridor without a backward glance, leaving Ingrid to finish the confrontation alone. "Ingrid, are you coming or are you going to waste your time?"
Without waiting for Ingrid’s reply, Leia strode down the corridor, her posture straight, conveying not retreat, but simple disinterest in continuing the pointless banter. She was done with the conversation, having acknowledged his nerve but dismissing his accusation entirely.
"I’ll catch up with you." Ingrid responded, her gaze returned to Zaeryn, "First, I might have to kick some butt." She whispered, trying to intimidate him. Because, yeah... she heard that males were fragile and so she could definitely scare this one.
However, to her disappointment, Zaeryn didn’t look bothered.
Ingrid’s lips curved into a tight, challenging smirk. She ignored Zaeryn for a moment, turning her attention to the others. "Jyn, Morticia," she said, gesturing lightly his way with her chin, "is he telling the truth?"
Morticia looked at him, a flicker of amusement in her analytical eyes. She seemed to be weighing the situation, calculating the potential outcomes. But she was clearly having too much fun watching him squirm to offer a straightforward defense.
She knew Ingrid wasn’t genuinely angry; this was a performance, a test, maybe even a strange form of flirting. "I don’t know," she replied finally, a faint, noncommittal smile playing on her lips.
It was Jyn who answered decisively, her voice laced with playful defiance, completely missing the subtlety of the situation. "Yes! He wasn’t staring at you, you beautiful bitch."
Ingrid blinked, seemingly thrown off by Jyn’s blunt, if oddly complimentary, defense. She looked at Jyn, then back at Zaeryn, the challenging hardness in her eyes softening slightly. "Alright," she said, letting out a small sigh. "I believe you. But only because Jyn is my friend and she vouched for you."
"Lovely." Zaeryn nodded, relieved the immediate tension seemed to be dissipating.
Ingrid wasn’t done, though. "But learn to keep your eyes where they belong," she finished, her voice low and edged with a playful menace. It felt like she was testing him again, seeing if he’d flinch or fire back now that the direct accusation was dropped.
She uncrossed her arms, letting one hand rest casually on her hip, the motion pulling the fabric of her uniform tight against her curves, drawing attention to the very figure she’d just accused him of staring at.
She looked past Zaeryn to Jyn. "So what?" she asked, her attention landing back on her friend. "You’re all... friends with him? Just like that?"
Her gaze swept over Morticia and Genevieve, who had remained quiet observers. "Yuna and Jyn, I can understand," she continued, nodding slightly toward the two girls who had initially befriended him, "but you too, Gen and Morticia? I thought you only hung out with cool people? Is this like a new trend?"
Genevieve nodded, her earlier amusement solidifying into open interest. Her gaze swept over Zaeryn deliberately, lingering just long enough to make her assessment unmistakable. "I only hang out with cool people," she confirmed, "and he seems to be cool right now. Just look at him."
Jyn nodded emphatically beside Zaeryn. "Yep. He’s cool. You should try actually speaking with him instead of just accusing him of things."
"Hmm." Ingrid’s stormy eyes scanned the small group again, Jyn’s vibrant energy, Yuna’s quiet sympathy, Morticia’s amusement, and Genevieve’s open interest. She let out a soft, considering hum. "I guess you guys won’t mind me joining, then. Consider me a part of this little cool... group."
With that sudden declaration, Ingrid took two steps forward until she was right in front of Zaeryn, invading his personal space once more.
Before he could fully process her intent, she turned smoothly and lowered herself down, settling directly between his legs on the bench, her back resting against his chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Let me sit here," she announced, adjusting slightly.
Zaeryn went rigid for a half-second, his hands instinctively rising as if to push her away. But there was nothing aggressive about her posture, nothing demanding or overtly provocative. She was simply... there. Making herself comfortable, adjusting until she found an angle that suited her, her weight settling against him.
Yuna’s eyes widened slightly. "Uh, Ingrid, there is space over here, you can sit here," she offered, pointing to the empty spot next to her.
"I like where I’m sitting," Ingrid said simply, glancing back at Zaeryn with that same stormy gaze, except now it held something closer to amusement, maybe even satisfaction. "And this is payback."
"Payback?" Zaeryn asked, genuinely confused now.
"For staring at my ass," she clarified, as if it were obvious. "Consider this your punishment."
Zaeryn’s mind slowly caught up. Punishment. Right. He let his hands settle cautiously on either side of her hips, not quite touching, but close enough that she could feel their presence, a silent acknowledgment of her proximity. This was... unexpected. Definitely unexpected. But, he had to admit, not entirely unwelcome.
"Punishment accepted," he said, his voice carrying that smooth, deep edge again. He meant it, too. If this was the consequence of getting caught zoning out, he could certainly live with it. Maybe even enjoy it.
Ingrid made herself even more comfortable, shifting her weight until she was fully leaning back against his chest, her head tilted just enough that she could see his face if she turned. There was something deliberately casual, almost possessive, about the way she did it, like she was settling in for the long haul.
Her scent hit his nose, not floral like Ysmeine or sharp like Sage, but something unique, maybe like rain on hot pavement, clean and sharp with an underlying warmth.
Morticia and Genevieve exchanged a look, clearly not anticipating this turn of events. They’d likely expected Ingrid to leave after the confrontation, or perhaps sit separately if she stayed. This sudden, intimate claim was surprising.
Genevieve leaned forward slightly. "How is that payback?" she asked, a distinct hint of jealousy coloring her tone. "He’s still winning. He was staring at your ass, and now he can practically touch your body whenever he wants. That’s not punishment, Ingrid. That’s a reward."
Hell, she wasn’t the only one visibly put out by Ingrid’s move. Jyn’s earlier supportive smile had tightened into a frown, and even Yuna, despite her shy nature, looked slightly uncomfortable, her gaze flickering between Zaeryn and the girl now firmly ensconced in his personal space.
It was as if Ingrid had leapfrogged to the front of the line, staking a claim on the academy’s newest, most interesting variable.
Heat flickered across Zaeryn’s face at Genevieve’s blunt assessment, but he didn’t deny it. Ingrid sitting practically in his lap like this did give him rather convenient access.
And she was giving him plenty of ideas. She was undeniably hot: tall, with thick, sunshine-yellow hair framing that face of pale, flawless skin. Her eyes, the stormy gray that had initially challenged him, now held that glint of playful amusement.
Her Lyceum uniform, the crisp white buttoned shirt and dark pleated skirt clung to her generous form, and as she leaned back against him, he could see her two mounds under the cleavage. They looked round and big.
Her ass was a firm, solid weight against his thighs. The casual intimacy, combined with her sheer confidence, was an intoxicating distraction.
Jyn’s frown deepened, her bright energy momentarily clouded. "Ingrid, that’s shameless," she muttered, though not loud enough for Ingrid to necessarily hear.
"That’s confidence," Ingrid corrected, her voice dropping into something lower, more cutting, clearly having overheard Jyn. She didn’t glance back, keeping her attention seemingly on the bustling hallway. "Maybe you’re just jealous because you’re not the one in Zaeryn’s hands right now."
The words landed exactly as intended, not necessarily cruel, but pointed. A challenge wrapped in observation. Jyn’s frown deepened further, but she didn’t fire back, perhaps realizing there wasn’t much she could say.
Zaeryn felt the weight of Ingrid against his chest, real and solid and entirely deliberate. He still wasn’t entirely sure what game she was playing, if any, but he was beginning to suspect she was very, very good at it. Or maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t playing a game at all.
"Comfortable?" he asked, his tone casual despite the quickened pace of his pulse against her back.
"Very," Ingrid replied, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "You’re not bad at this."
"At what?" he asked, playing along. "Being punished?"
"Not that," she clarified, shifting slightly, settling deeper against him. "You feel so... stable. Strong." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "I might actually like being in this group."