Silas observed her reaction with his steel-grey eyes slightly widened, a wave of foreign and unfamiliar emotions surging through him. This was not how things were supposed to be; this was not how he was supposed to react. He cursed the blush that was rapidly rising up to paint his cheeks in a hot, mortifying flush. Fuck! He felt that unwanted warmth blossoming not even a centimetre beneath his skin, the blood rushing to his cheeks once more. Panic, raw and visceral, began to claw its way up his throat, threatening to choke off his composure. His heart went wild. He felt like crying, and he hated it. He needed to escape, to put distance between himself and whatever strange magic this woman possessed. He needed to escape the fire that was forming in him. She was a beautiful girl. This wasn't normal-- it was supposed to be him making the girl flustered, not the other way around. Oh fuck, he barely even knew this girl. If anything, she would be running away from him. 

"Right," he blurted out, his voice emerging a little harsher and more abrupt than he had intended, the words scraping against the silence like a broken record. His grey eyes, snapping out of their momentary spell, found a strange boy who was observing them, something he did not like. The boy had baggy jeans, messy, fluffy black hair, and a tight black shirt. He wasn't sure why the other party was relevant, but there he was. Silas frowned, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. After taking in this strange boy, he forced himself to drag his attention back to Daria. "Well, I hope that you stay-um, alright," he stuttered, the carefully constructed facade of effortless cool crumbling around him. His words came out jerky and awkward, like a poorly written script, and he had the intention to leave before it got any weirder. "H-have a good day then," he choked out, before turning abruptly and moving to hurry away; he wanted to leave for his dorm room before he got the chance to make a bigger fool of himself. "Bye," he said as a last resort.

He managed only a meagre few steps before disaster struck, a jarring interruption to his hasty retreat. A sudden, unexpected force slammed into him with brutal force, throwing him completely off balance and sending him crashing to the ground. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, expelling the air in a painful huff. A blinding flash of pain lanced through his skull as his head connected hard with the unforgiving stone floor. He went down with a crash. He was sure that everyone in the hallway could hear him, which pissed him off to another degree.

Rage, sudden and volcanic, erupted within him, washing away the last vestiges of his carefully controlled composure. "Get off of me before I make sure you never walk again!!" he shouted. The anger boiling in his veins, Silas’s face twisted into a fearsome snarl. The carefully-constructed mask of charm was gone, replaced with a savage expression that mirrored the darkness he usually sought to contain.