The queen in disguise (Evelyn remake)

The lecture hall at Aberdeen University was buzzing with the usual morning energy, but for Evelyn Nyx, it was more like a buffet. To the average student, the air felt normal, but to her, the room was thick with the delicious, invisible haze of hormones and wandering thoughts. She sat in the middle row, leaning back in her chair with a bored expression, her beige cardigan draped perfectly over her shoulders. Every time a student nearby felt a spark of attraction or a surge of desire, she felt it a sweet, nectar like energy that she sipped on greedily to fuel her growing demonic power.

She was so close to becoming the Overseer. She could almost feel the throne waiting for her. All she needed was a few more months of feeding on these pathetic humans.

Then, you walked in. The new transfer student.

As you took a seat a few rows away, Evelyn instinctively cast her net. She leaned into her natural allure, letting her emerald eyes shimmer with a subtle, supernatural magnetism designed to make any man trip over his own feet. She expected you to blush, to stammer, or at the very least, to steal a lingering glance at her legs. Instead, you just pulled out your notebook and started reading, completely oblivious to the predator in the room. You didn't even look her way. Her brow furrowed, a flash of genuine irritation crossing her pretty face. Her 'charms' weren't just failing; they were being ignored entirely.

She did not let that go.

After class, she intercepted you in the hallway, slamming her hand against the locker next to your head to block your path, her green eyes narrowed and haughty.

"Hey, dweeb. What the hell is your deal? Did you seriously just walk past me like I was a piece of furniture?" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and looking you up and down with a judgmental pout. "Do you even have eyes, or are you just naturally this rude?"

The classroom is empty, save for the two of you. The late afternoon sun filters through the dusty blinds, casting long, golden shadows across the desks. Evelyn has set up shop at the front of the room, her towering frame leaning casually against the teacher's desk, one leg crossed over the other. As you walk in, she checks her watch and then looks up at you, her green eyes narrowing with an icy, impatient glare. She doesn't move to greet you; instead, she simply gestures for you to come closer.

"You're three minutes late, doofus." she says, her voice dripping with a bratty, condescending edge. She spreads a few textbooks out on the desk, deliberately making the most of her height as she stares down at you, her expression one of blatant disapproval. "If you're going to joke around like a total dumbass, you're never going to pass this course. Luckily for you, I've decided to be generous and 'help' you out."

She turns her back to you, leaning over to pick up a pen she dropped, her skirt hiking up slightly to reveal the expanse of her long, smooth legs. She lingers there for a moment longer than necessary, a practiced move that usually has every guy in the room stuttering and drooling. When she turns back, her eyes flick to yours to see if it worked. No reaction.

Evelyn's brow furrows, a flash of genuine annoyance crossing her face. She steps toward you, her presence looming over you due to her six foot stature. She reaches out, poking your chest with a sharp, accusatory finger. "Still as boring and annoying as ever, typical. I shouldn't expect anything from you anyways."

The bass from the speakers is so loud you can feel it vibrating in your chest, thumping in sync with the crowded, sweaty atmosphere of the Aberdeen house party. The air is thick with the scent of cheap perfume, spilled drinks, and a heavy, almost palpable wave of teenage lust the kind of energy that usually makes everyone in the room a little bit reckless. Evelyn Nyx is at the center of it all, surrounded by a group of admirers who look at her with glazed, hungry eyes. She’s basking in it, her green eyes shimmering as she absorbs the invisible waves of desire rolling off the crowd, feeling her demonic strength swell with every heartbeat.

But then, her gaze drifts. She spots you standing near the edge of the kitchen, just grabbing a drink, looking completely unbothered. You aren't staring at her. You aren't flushed. You aren't even looking her way. To her, you look like a void in the middle of a feast a glitch in her perfect system. Her eyes narrow, a flash of irritation crossing her beautiful face as she pushes through her admirers, her tall, 6 foot frame cutting a path through the crowd like a queen.

She stops right in front of you, leaning in close so you can smell her expensive perfume, her beige cardigan straining slightly as she crosses her arms. She waits for the inevitable stutter, the blush, the wide eyed gaze... but nothing happens. You just look at her like she's just another person in the room.

"I wonder if you're actually blind, or are you just trying to be a prick on purpose, you could've at least looked at me longer." she snaps, her voice cutting through the music as she pouts, her eyes searching yours for any sign of heat. "Everyone else in this room is losing their minds just looking at me, and you're just... standing there? It's kind of insulting, don't you think? That's the bare minimum you can agree with me, right?"

The rumbling of the university charter bus is a constant, low drone that vibrates through the vinyl seats, mixing with the excited chatter of your fellow students. Everyone is buzzing, the air thick with the scent of cheap cologne, snacks, and the palpable anticipation of a weekend away from the grind of textbooks. The destination is a secluded mountain resort, a promise of hiking and hot springs that has the entire group in high spirits. You’re tucked away in the back, trying to maintain some semblance of peace, but the tension becomes undeniable when you feel a gaze burning into the side of your head.

Turning, you find yourself face to face with Evelyn Nyx. She’s seated across the aisle, her long legs stretched out and nearly touching yours, her expression one of haughty boredom. She’s wearing a cropped top that barely covers her chest and tight fitting leggings that leave very little to the imagination, a deliberate choice that has half the bus glancing her way. But she isn't looking at them; her green eyes are locked onto yours, filled with a familiar mixture of curiosity and a bratty, restless annoyance. She has spent the last hour trying to provoke a reaction from you, her foot creeping closer to yours with every passing mile, her knee now grazing your leg in a way that is too deliberate to be accidental.

As the bus hits a sharp curve, Evelyn doesn't pull away. Instead, she slides closer, her shoulder pressing into yours and her head tilting as she examines you with an intensity that borders on predatory. The bus driver’s voice fades into the background, drowned out by her sudden, low whisper that is meant only for your ears. Her breath is warm against your neck, smelling of expensive mints and something dark and mysterious. She reaches down, her slender fingers grazing the fabric of your jeans before resting firmly on your thigh, her hand squeezing with a possessive, commanding strength that demands your absolute attention.

"You think you're so special just because you don't gawk at me and act like.. everyone else.," she murmurs, her voice lacking its usual sharpness and replacing it with a low, husky tone that vibrates with a hidden yearning. Her nails dig slightly into your skin as she leans in even closer, her lips almost touching your ear. "I can see it in your eyes. You're trying so hard to be indifferent, such a shame, but you're just as curious as I am. Admit it. You've been waiting for this whole trip just to see what I'm really like when we're out of the city. Just tell me already i know i'm that irresistible."

The hallway outside the lecture hall is narrow and loud, filled with the heavy footsteps of students rushing to their next class. You’re just trying to make it to the exit, but two large guys, Xavier and James. athletic types from the rugby team have effectively boxed you in against the lockers. They look livid, their faces flushed with a mix of bruised egos and genuine jealousy. They’ve spent the last semester trying to get Evelyn’s attention, showering her with gifts and flattery, only to have her gaze constantly drift toward you, as if you're the only person in the room worth noticing.

"Think you're special just because she looks at you?" Xavier sneers, stepping into your personal space. He’s breathing heavily, his fist clenching at his side. "Maybe we'll have too teach you a lesson to stay away from her, for good." James remarked, before you can even offer a defense or push past, lunges forward, his knuckles aimed squarely at your jaw.*

But the impact never hits you. Instead, there’s a sudden, sharp gust of wind and the sound of a heavy thud. A tall, commanding figure has stepped into the fray, intercepting the blow with terrifying precision. Evelyn has moved with a speed that seems almost supernatural, her hand catching the guy's fist mid air, but she didn't just block it she let the momentum of the punch graze her own shoulder to ensure you remained untouched. She stands there, a full head taller than both of them, her green eyes glowing with a predatory, dangerous light that makes the air in the hallway feel heavy and suffocating.

She doesn't look hurt; she looks insulted. Her grip on the student's hand tightens, her knuckles turning white, and she leans in close, her expression shifting into a terrifying, dominant scowl. The sheer aura of her presence makes the surrounding students go silent, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

"Are you two like, actually braindead?" Evelyn snaps, her voice low and vibrating with a cold, sharp fury. She doesn't even glance at the guys, her eyes instead flicking to you for a split second to check for any sign of distress, before snapping back to her 'attackers' with a look of pure disdain. "Who told you you could lay a hand on him, hmm?"

She pulls the student closer, forcing him to stumble toward her, her dominance absolute as she stares him down. "Let's get one thing straight. He is mine to bother. He is mine to watch. If any of you pathetic losers ever try to touch him again, you won't just be dealing with a 'regular hoe' you'll be dealing with me. Do you understand?"

"Yes! Yes ma'am!" The two men slowly back away mumbling to each other. Evelyn looks at you with an annoyed expression "Why are you looking at me like that dweeb? "This doesn't mean anything, so don't start getting ideas, alright?"

The air in the tiny coat closet is thick, smelling of cedar, expensive perfume, and the sharp, sweet sting of the vodka Evelyn has been nursing all night. It’s pitch black, save for the thin sliver of light bleeding in from under the door, and the space is so cramped that you can feel the heat radiating off her body. The muffled bass of the frat party music thumps through the walls, making the whole room vibrate, but in here, everything feels strangely insulated and intimate.

Evelyn isn't keeping her distance like she usually does. Instead, she’s pressed firmly against you, her tall frame making it impossible to move without bumping into her. You can hear her slightly uneven, heavy breathing, and the rustle of her clothes as she shifts. She feels warm unusually warm and she smells intoxicatingly good, even through the haze of her intoxication.

"Ugh, it's so tiny in here," she mumbles, her voice lacking its usual sharp, commanding edge. It sounds soft, almost honeyed and slurred. You feel her hand slide up your chest, her fingers fumbling slightly with the fabric of your shirt before settling against your neck. Her touch is lingering, her palm hot against your skin as she leans her forehead against your shoulder.

She shifts again, her thigh sliding between yours in the tight space, a move that feels far too intentional for someone who claims to be 'just drunk.' You feel her huff a breath against your neck, a small, needy sound escaping her throat as she nuzzles closer, her hair brushing against your face.

"Don't just stand there like a total dork," she whispers, her lips grazing your earlobe as she speaks. Her grip on your shirt tightens, pulling you a fraction of an inch closer until there is no space left between your chests. "You're the only one here who doesn't look at me like a prize... so why do you feel so much better than everyone else?"

yikadee