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Distant

Chapter Text

Holding back an eye roll I lazily take out my earbuds and give Ms. Bustier a tight smile.

"Yes?" I ask bored, waiting a few beats before blowing a bubble.

I could sense her patience wearing thin with me: she was practically pulling out her hair extensions to keep from screaming at me. With a calming breath, Ms. Bustier smiled grimly at me and requested I pay attention from now on.

I nodded and waited until she turned to slip a headphone in. I left one out and tangled in my dark hair. If I don't pass Lit my parents will make me work extra hours at the bakery.

The bell finally put us out of our misery a few minutes later, and I was quick to leave. Ms. Bustier was known for stopped me and asking how I was doing. I'm don't have depression or anything, but when I tell people about my life it tends to gain me a lot of unwanted sympathy. So I avoid the guidance counselor and sympathetic teachers at all cost.

I head down the crowded hallway, blowing a stray piece of silky hair out of my face. With a groan I attempt to ignore the obnoxious football players as they force their way through the crowds. Most of them think that being a jock gives them a free pass to do whatever they want.

I try to avoid talking to them, mainly because I know that within minutes of listening to them drone on about how amazing they are, I'd have to fight a few of them.

Pompous jerks.

I walk up to at my locker and turn the sticky lock around a few times, taking a moment to glance up at the old clock.

12:35, it reads.

I'm going to be late for economics again. Whatever, it's not like I haven't served a detention before.

I fish a few books out of my messy locker and hurry down the hallway. I might be able to make it if I book it.

Since the hallways are pretty bare I break into a dead sprint, my midnight hair swinging about. Luckily I reach the classroom before the bell, breathing a sigh of relief. I'm about to reach for the creaky handle when suddenly the door opens and knocks me to the ground.

It takes me a minute to realize what happened, but once I snap out of my daze my head begins to ache. I groan loudly and reach blindly for my scattered books, pushing myself up and onto my feet.

I glance up to yell at the moron who knocked me down, but my voice caught in my throat. His warm honey hair complimented his smooth black tee nicely. As he offered me a hand and pulled me up, I was impressed at how muscular his hand was. His arm changed from fit to muscle as soon as he flexed. You have to work quite often to have his body, but he didn't seem like the bodybuilder type.

Although what really surprised me were his eyes. Startling green eyes stared into mine, and they look horrified. I couldn't help but think that they looked a little too familiar.

"I'm sorry." His hands couldn't seem to find a comfortable place to lie after he helped me up. I couldn't help but think he looked awful nervous. I mean hitting someone with a door isn't exactly how I make friends, but he looked like he wanted to sink into the ground.

I gave him a small nod of temporary forgiveness and pushed my way past him, ignoring all the curious eyes that followed my every move.

I plopped onto the worn chair, sliding down and pulling at my sleeves with a shiver. For some reason my bio teacher thought it was better for the room to resemble a polar vortex than a slightly over heated spring day. Nowadays school funding is low, so it's one or the other, no in between.

Throughout the hour I kept getting the chilly feeling that someone was watching me. I tilted my phone up slightly, but enough so that it was still out of sight.

Twisting it from side to side, I looked at the reflection, but no one in particular was staring at me. With a soft shake of my head, I put down my cell. The feeling didn't go away throughout the hour, so once the sub dismissed us I decided to take action.

I discreetly turned and fiddled with my book bag, peeking out from under my messy hair. I could barely make out the same curious green eyes that I had met earlier.

What does he want with me?

Chapter Text

I grimace after taking a bite of the cafés mystery meat and opt for a flaky roll instead. Alya shoots me a sympathetic look, and divides her chicken sandwich to share. With a grateful smile I take it and take a minute to glance around the bustling lunchroom.

I manage to spot the new guy sitting at a table in the front with Nino. His light green eyes lit up as he laughed along with Nino, causing me to smile.

His grin was infectious, and against my will I let loose a small smile. I don't know what it is about him, but I'm drawn to him. It seems as if I have no willpower against him.

Well not yet anyways, any guy I've ever talked to has pissed me off within five minutes of speaking. He shouldn't be any different. With a small shake of my head I force myself to turn around.

It's absolutely ridiculous that I'm thinking these thoughts, especially since I just met him.

Alya thinking these things about Nino would be acceptable, since they have a lot of history. Even though I've known her since junior high school, she's never admitted to liking Nino. I don't know if he likes her as much as she likes him, but I have a good feeling about them.

"What're you looking at Mari?" Alya queries, wiggling around to try and see past me. With a scarlet face I quickly block Nino and Co. with my body, giving her a nonchalant look.

"Nothing important, so how did your job interview go?" I replied, hoping she wouldn't notice my guilty face.

Alya must've been pretty excited about this job, because she launched right into telling me every detail. I mean every detail.

"I was wearing this really cute taupe skirt with my lacy top, and I had just walked in when..."

Now I'm a good friend and all, but if I actually pay attention I'll stop her to ask questions, which delays everything anyways. So I let her ramble on, keeping eye contact and giving the occasional nod of conformation.

My eyes betrayed me and drifted over to the new guys table again. I really need to learn his name, referring to him as 'the new guy' is getting kind of old. Heh, get it...never mind.

Well his hair is a silky blonde, but that's too stereotypical.

'How's it going blondie? See any good movies lately?'

...nope that won't work.

Hm, well his eyes are mysterious and he's rather quiet. Kind of like a -

"Uh, h-hey."

I nearly jumped out of my skin, because apparently during my inner dialogue he had seen me staring and come over. Probably to ask if I was mental, wouldn't blame him.

"Hey chat." I blurted, my eyes widening in fear as I realized what my mind had said in absence of my thoughts.

He seemed a bit surprised at my response, but chuckled nonetheless.

"Well that's not my name, but you can call me chat if you want. I'm Adrien Agreste." Adrien said nervously, unfortunately noticing my horrified expression.

Like in a dramatic film, I felt as if everything had slowed down. I could feel my pulse quickening, and my hands gripped the edge of my shirt anxiously.

My body went into overdrive, and with a frantic look cast towards Alya, I snatched my bag and bolted out of the café.

Why did he have to come back? Why do I not hate him after everything we went through? Why did he leave me?

I continued running through the empty hallways until I reached the front door, and didn't stop running until I reached my apartment. I dodged pedestrians and random bikers as I weaved my way towards home. Once I arrived, I spent the next three hours unbothered and miserable under my cozy comforter. The tears wouldn't stop flowing, but luckily I seemed to have narrowly escaped an attack this time.

I never was much of a fighter, and I guess nothing's changed.