“All right. This could get messy, but if we do it right, it could also be fun.”

Leia was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table in the middle of the suite, studying the group of them. She looked, Saga thought, a bit like their Aunt Ruki. Blonde, of course, and with the feathers on the sides of her head, but it was more in the way she carried herself.

Of course, Saga would never be considering this with Aunt Ruki. Not and be contemplating breathing next week too.

“Messy sounds fun.” The boy named Butler had a cheerful disposition and an aggressively untidy demeanor. Saga wanted to brush him. “How messy are we talking?”

“Well, there’s you, me, Saga, and Aaron.” Aaron, the youngest member of their potential arrangement, was sitting quietly on the floor, carefully not looking at anyone. He hadn’t said anything… ever, as far as Saga could remember. “There’s also the first-year Saga’s interested in, and there’s that fourth-year that’s interested in you, Butler. Probably under the mistaken impression that your name is accurate.”

Butler blushed darkly. It was quite a cute look on him. “Mmm.”

“In terms of romantic relationships, there’s of course also the complications involved in any relationship, times… many. And possibly more many, adding in even more options for envy. To say nothing of what happens as each of us graduate over the next few years.

“And, of course, anyone who’s envious of,” Leia ticked off on her fingers, “our suite, which is the best one, the family relationships here – well, between Saga and I, at least – the impression that Saga and I are hoarding at least two, maybe three underclassmen, or the fact that that two of you are, ah, hoarding Saga and I.”

Saga caught a glimpse of Aaron’s face. He must have thought himself unobserved, because his expression had slipped into something almost creepy. Plotting, she thought; he looked like he was plotting. “Messy,” Saga muttered. Well, she was the daughter of the Black Prince and the Call of the Whirlwind. She could handle one calculating first-year.

One calculating first-year, one aggressively untidy house-elf, her cousin the demon, and possibly a pretty blonde hermaphrodite – all in a four-bedroom polygonal relationship where they were only betting that there’d be more fucking than fighting. Saga found herself smiling. “Messy sounds good to me.”

Her father hadn’t tried to name her Epic for nothing.

Written for Three-Word Wednesday. Today’s words were envious, messy, calculating.

Phew!

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