Sweet Devil [BL]

Lying on his bed, Misha stared at the ceiling for a long time, many thoughts going through his brain.

The morning sun shone through the curtain, casting a gentle golden hue on his overly serious face, yet Misha didn't seem to realize that dawn had arrived.

A few weeks had passed since Vanessa popped up at his school, and it was now the middle of October.

Meanwhile, he gradually got closer to Vanessa, and the teacher's opinion about him also got better. He was still slacking off, but because his grades became excellent, the old lady was left speechless, having nothing to reprimand him about.

Moreover, the boy diligently helped the little girl whenever she had difficulty understanding something, although they also bickered at the same time. Vanessa called him on his grammar, and Misha would then take his revenge when it came down to mathematic.

Slowly, Vanessa started to smile and laugh more and more, and the melancholy in her eyes diminished.

From her arrival until now, Misha showed rare diplomatic tact and didn't bother her with uncalled questions, putting the little girl at ease. It let her forget about the accident and everything that came afterward.

But the other children didn't necessarily know how to keep their mouth shut, and a few came to ask her about the car accident. Every time they talked without watching their words, Vanessa seemed to retreat into her shell, like a little turtle afraid of the world.

Then, Misha would show up, saying stupid things to distract the children from Vanessa. And when it didn't work, the boy would chase them away with harsh words or a few kicks in the b.u.t.t. His mother was called a few times because of this.

There was a time where the director had tried to scold her about how she brought up her son. But before he could say anything too nasty, Misha had already opened his mouth and bared his teeth.

With a scoff, the boy asked him if he told the same thing to the parents of the children who keep on bothering Vanessa about her car accident, even though they were aware that the little girl didn't want to talk about it. Was it okay to verbally attack the poor child and stood by, silently watching?

To which the director had replied that he should have got an a.d.u.l.t instead of resorting to violence, and Misha retorted that it would only have made things worst and that he knew it. Bullying wouldn't stop just because the teacher interfered. The bullies would start again the moment the a.d.u.l.t had their back turned.

Thus, the discussion ended in a stalemate, with the director angrily puffing and Misha naughtily lifting his chin, glaring at the bald man. At the side, his teacher and his mother were looking at each other, seemingly not knowing what to do.

In the end, the old lady took the opportunity to talk to Mrs. Brown about her son's sudden excellent grades, asking her if he did some summer classes or something along those lines. They both decided to ignore the bickering director and child.

Later, when they finally got to go home, his mother asked him about his grades and how he had achieved such a feat. Unconsciously, Misha averted his eyes and said that he had been reading his schoolbooks at home and practicing on his own.

It wasn't totally a lie as he did read through the school material to refresh his memory a little. Not a second did he think of keeping his grades low as not to arouse his family's suspicion; now that he was reborn, he might as well have good grades and pave his way toward success.

In his mind, good grades lead to scholarsh.i.p.s and good jobs. In this timeline, he wanted to make a lot of money and spoil his mother and sister. No way in hell would he let them go through any hardsh.i.p.s this time.

The alarm rang, and Misha lazily glanced at it before smacking it, rolling over to the side and getting off the bed. Sleepily, he walked out of his room, and as he passed near his sister's bedroom, he heard her voice and stopped dead in his track.

He didn't have the habit of eavesdropping, but he knew that if his sister was talking alone in her room, then she probably was talking with Gabriel over the phone. Curiosity overcame him, and he couldn't help but edge closer to the door.

"… so do you think you will be able to make it? I can't think of a better gift."

There was a second of silence before Masha burst out laughing. "Why not? I very much want to see that. Anyway, I need to go if I don't want to miss the bus. Some people still have to go to school. So, well, good luck, and don't you dare die of boredom, or I'm going to pay you a visit in hell and bring you back by the skin of your neck."

Then, Misha heard rustles inside his sister's bedroom, and he instinctively fled downstairs and went into the kitchen, breathless.

Despite the days passing by, his body was still as weak as a chicken. And at school, the PE teacher even took pity on him and put him in the girls' group, telling him not to overwork himself.

So damn annoying.

"Are you alright, sweetie? You're panting quite a lot," asked his mother, who was preparing her children's breakfast and lunch.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just too hungry and run down the stairs to eat as fast as possible. I could smell a very nice smell from my room."

"What a smooth talker! I wonder from whom you inherited that? Certainly not your father," teased Mrs. Brown as she put a plate of crepes on the table. "Come on. Sit and eat while it's still warm."

"Thank you," smiled the boy as he rushed to his seat, digging in as soon as his b.u.t.t was on the chair. "It doesn't only smell delicious! It is!"

As an answer, his mother chuckled before gently ruffling his hair, which looked like a bird's nest after waking up.

Since a few months ago, his son started to eat the meals she prepared as if it was the most delicious food in the world. Often, he would say that he much preferred to eat what she made than go out and eat in a restaurant.

Before, Misha would throw tantrums once or twice a week because he wanted to eat fast food. Now, forget fast food, he didn't even mention going to any kind of restaurant.

Her son had changed so much, and she knew perfectly well that he was hiding many things from her. Nevertheless, he was still her baby son, and if he didn't want to talk, she would patiently wait for him to open up to her.

"You know, your birthday is soon. Do you want to invite a few friends to celebrate it with you?"

Upon hearing his mother's words, Misha froze for a second. With everything that had happened, he had almost forgotten that he was born in October.

After a while, the child whispered, "I don't want anything big—just a little something with our family, Dereck, and also Vanessa. Vanessa is a new friend, but I'm very close to her. I'm sure you will like her."

Misha bit his lips and added with a small voice, "If Gabriel could be there too, then I don't need anything more."

His mother stood still for a second before smiling and saying softly, "Alright. Do you want something in particular? Dinosaur toys, maybe?"

The little boy shook his head a few times before twisting his upper body, lifting his bright blue eyes to meet his mother's. "No, I don't want anything. I have enough toys. Being with all of you is more than enough."

Yes, it was more than what he could ever have wished for.