Chapter Text
How exactly had you gotten stuck in this situation?
Behind door number one, kindness, an engaging discussion, and one of the most attractive men you have ever had the pleasure of looking at. No— No that is not part of your decision making process for your future. You will not let your libido decide what will happen for the rest of your life, ever. However, he is encouraging and makes sure that you pursue your wildest concepts. It’s promising and engaging and you love it. But you two had such similar minds and ideas. He would support your project, and go above and beyond to make sure it maintains funding. Would that really be enough to make sure you press past yourself? Should you make this easy?
Behind door number two… well that is an entirely different beast. He challenged you, and continues to keep you sharp. The debates are energetic and at times frustrating. He is the reason you even decided to go to this school. Nevermind the fact that he has some of the softest looking hair you’ve ever seen. Really, never mind that. You watched in despair as heterochromic eyes kissed by magic made quick work of your thesis and ripped it to shreds. It was defeating, and energizing. He was already well funded, and you could possibly get to another level under his tutelage. It would take years.
Fuck.
Just a deep breath in, and a few steps upwards into the building and you’re brought back to the first moments of your decision making process. Had it really already been three years? You realize you’re wearing the same outfit you had put on in order to solidify your first impression, and can’t help but laugh at your predictability. In some ways, this would be a new beginning.
—[Three years earlier]—
This is satisfaction incarnate. You survived your first year of bullshit classes, and if you kept up your current work ethic you may be able to continue ranking as Valedictorian. It was proof that you belonged here, and not in the near-slums of your childhood home. No, that was behind you now, and you’re ready to continue to prove your worth.
You’d heard rumors of Dr. Nox Fleuret ruining prestigious rankings for many students but, perhaps you could break that standard. Although, if the rumors about the new instructor were anything to go by, Dr. Scentia would be handing you your own ass with his strict policies and grading. But you were in luck. You’d read everything he’d published in the past four years, and as the expression goes, great minds think alike. He was unusually tenacious, sometimes coming out with two or more papers a year, and you were more excited than you wanted to let on.
As first impressions can get stretched well beyond the start of any interaction, you had plans to make sure yours would be as flawless as possible. The smell of new technology, paper, and ink waft out of your messenger bag as you shove a sack-lunch inside, ready to start your first day of sophomore year.
Giving another polish to your, as you liked to call them, commander boots, you were set up just right for a day in lab. Or, more likely the discussion of Magic. That beautiful, enigmatic subject that lead to worlds of confusion, theory, debate and even better, unexplored possibilities. A touch of black leather donning the shoulders of your jacket, you had on your makeshift armor to attack the day with a fervor. Never mind that half-way through this semester you would be walking in wearing pajama pants and over-loved sneakers.
With the attack plans laid out, you got on the bus that would deposit you in front of the school you worked so hard to get to.
Insomnia University, where dreamers wake up their full potential. A terrible slogan, but if their ratios towards success were to be believed, an entirely accurate statement.
Your name was called out with more excitement than you had anticipated, an arm grabbing you and throwing you slightly off balance. Best to blame the over-encumbered messenger bag rather than your delightful blond friend for your stumble.
“Prompto! Are you feeling prepared?” The words came out with too much excitement, wrapping your arms around his waist in a quick hug. You checked your watch to make sure you still had time. 14.5 minutes, good. You could afford pleasantries. What were you saying, you’d always make time for Prompto.
“As ready as I’ll ever be!” You deflected the hand that wanted to make you unruly. He snapped a quick photo of you on what looked to be new hardware. Complimenting it as you walked towards your destination, he was abuzz with just enough excitement for you two to build off of each other. It was weird luck that they placed the arts and science buildings so near one another. Some claim that creativity and science are interlocked. But they weren’t that close.
“What are you doing over here anyway?” The comment was meant to be playfully prying, but your mood shifted as you realized, for the last five minutes you hadn’t spoken to the person that was following you two.
“Oh yeah! You remember Noct from last year right? We’re roommates this year so I figured we could just walk together to get to classes!”
It was fucking Noctis Lucis Caelum. That richer than the astrals asshole was able to use practical magic like it was his gods-given birthright. You’d seldom been more jealous of someone in your whole life. And he barely worked for it! He slept through classes and the teachers loved him. You wanted to bite back the words and just will him to leave, but his awkward wave paired with his unkempt bed-head being ruffled by his own hand— well the commentary just came out.
“Yeah?” You grabbed the front of his button-up shirt and began to fix it without conscious effort. How dare he come in slovenly and lower expectations for himself. No, he was going to go in there just as sharp as you were and they were going to expect more from him. “What’s your first class, Noctis,” Yeah. Use his full name, you know he hates that. That will show him.
His face was flushed from the first spring heat as he began to open his mouth to finally say something. You checked your watch as he spoke, implying both that he shouldn’t waste your time, and considering if there was enough time to go grab some water for him and ebony for you. You were getting close, about 9 minutes and fifteen seconds before class. Well, technically 19 minutes but you wanted to get there early and snag a good seat in the second row. You quickly hugged Prompto goodbye cutting your rival off for a second time with more pleasant goodbyes to your friend. As you moved forward you waved Noctis on to follow, not waiting to see if he would.
“Theoretical Elemancy 02. Apparently the teacher is an absolute asshole,” finally, the fucker found his words after clearing his throat for the third time. You let out a heavy sigh after acknowledging that you to were headed to the same class. His comment made another student pause as the three of you made your way to the vending machines.
“Yeah, that’s Professor Scentia in a nutshell, if the rumor mills are to be believed,” you comment, hoping to put some fear in him. Anything to get him to shape up, “He’s ready to bend you over and fuck you with a ruler as soon as you do anything wrong. Even down to punctuality, Noctis,” you laughed with a broad grin coming to your face, ordering an Ebony first, then a water next. The small red light of ‘sold out’ blinked on next to the ebony button. The third student lingering in line behind you crossed his arms with impatience but he could wait. You needed this shit to survive. And there’s Noctis looking anywhere but your face. Excellent. You shoved the water into his arms.
“Is he now?” A smooth and stunning accent comes from the crossed armed student behind you. This guy— This guy knows what he’s doing. His hair is combed down onto his head, not sticking out, but not blending in either. A pinstriped shirt fits his figure almost too well and he hides his physical dedication under a simple black suit coat. A small skull necklace says hello from the middle of his collar bones and it makes him interesting. Oh no, that was a blatant checkout. Looking back to his eyes, wildly green and piercing yet frustratingly hidden behind simple glasses, you canted your hip towards him.
“Oh yeah. I ended up helping an upperclassman in his class while she was bawling her eyes out. She ended up changing majors afterwords,” stop it. Stop the flirtatious body language. Okay, yes, you can play with your hair just a little bit but don’t look him up and down again. Gods he’s so serious. It’s delicious.
“Indeed. Well, I suppose I’ll have to keep my eye out for this Professor,” he comments, his tone a little more sharp than you expected.
Then you looked at him again. First day, no bag. Not your age, but only slightly older— the hairstyle throwing you off. You felt your body starting to go rigid as you realized your mistake. Why wasn’t he breaking eye contact?
You shoved your hand out in offering of a handshake and instead looked like you were offering him your ebony. You needed to kill your suspicions. Introducing yourself with the stiffest smile you’ve ever given, you will him to not say what you are dreading coming from his mouth. In fact, your watch goes off, beeping the alarm that you have 10 minutes until class starts, “Oh I have to go, I want to get a good seat in the classroom,” you look to the side at Noctis, who doesn’t seem to understand what exactly is happening between you two. All he’s seen is this… guy take an ebony from your hands as you very awkwardly introduce yourself, then cut him off from the chance to reciprocate. Perhaps he’s slightly more pensive in his glance than you’re giving him credit for, but you can’t be too sure.
It was time to escape and will the facts not to be true. But the evidence— It was all laid out before you as the ‘student’ walked into class, writing his name in script that matched his posture: stiff, elegant, and practiced. A new ebony was placed on your desk when Noctis sat down next to you, drinking the water you had given him already. You couldn’t manage a thank you as your fears materialized into the man you had insinuated would take you sexually over his desk with a ruler finished writing his name out his name on the chalkboard.
“My name is Professor Ignis Scientia,” he looked directly at you for a moment before scanning the room, “rest assured that there will be no need for rulers in this classroom. However, I will be measuring you against my strict guidelines,” the class shifted slightly in their seats, one or two soft chuckles from the back of the room.
You swallow hard as he looks at you again. So much for first impressions.
—
The fact was, this course was just as fantastic as you had hoped it would be. It didn’t take you long to get over the awkward moment of the initial meeting. You commonly found yourself in a debate with him, unable to hold yourself back. It was more heated than you had intended it, but he seemed more game than you had anticipated. It was absolutely delightful. Perhaps your first impression wasn’t salvageable but you were alright with being seen as a stubborn foul-mouthed student. It honestly felt like you could just be yourself.
“Though, there are material reasons why using food items may lead curative properties in magic, there seems to be a disconnect in regard to the fact that not just any plant-based item will guarantee that it will heal the user,” He was referencing his second paper. It was strangely revolutionary in its simplicity.
“Fucking Leiden Peppers and their capsaicin,” you comment scratching down more notes. He snaps, pointing at you, a smile forming on his face. With a bounce in his step he nods as he shuffles a few paces.
“Indeed! The lack of healing is in direct correlation to the crystalline, stable alkaloid known as capsaicin within the heated treat,” he adjusts his glasses as he began to write out the formula on the chalkboard. If you’d known him any better you would think he was trying to recompose himself, “When ingested normally, it can release endorphins, increase cardiovascular circulation, and it has even been used as a repellent against pests. When distilled into elemancy, the effects are released at about 1000 fold. It’s not a terribly effective magic, but the curse it inflicts can be felt in the rushing of blood, confusion, and loss of breath,” he did not find much success in calming down it seems, as his penmanship on the chalkboard ends in a flourish.
“He’s acting like he’s reliving the last time he used it as a sexual enhancement spell,” Noctis whispers leaning over to you. You have to hold back a snort at the comment. Covering your hand over your mouth you glare at him, his smirk dying on his face. He’s not allowed to come up with completely legitimate uses, and be funny at the same time. Augh! He’s good enough at elemancy that he could probably make something like that and it would work. Beyond that, you don’t want to think of your professor straining and out of breath. It was already distracting enough when he took off his jacket. To abandon the image you return your hyper focus to your notes, choosing not to look up for the rest of the lecture.
“Just because you need help in the bedroom doesn’t mean he does,” you comment offhand, a little too delayed to be a snappy reply, but it does the job and Noctis is sinks is his seat at your side eye. You hear your professor lose his train of thought for just a moment before continuing writing on the board. His healing focused lecture now gravitated towards grains in elemancy and how the elasticity of the gluten is directly related to the potency of the magic.
—
Alright! Your first real assignment! Time to knock this shit out of the park and prove you understand elemancy better than anyone else in the classroom. The assignment was simple: turn in a two page minimum document about a healing ingredient with the reasons on why it would work effectively. Since Professor Scientia was the gatekeeper for your desired professor, the illustrious Dr. Nox Fleuret, you were going to go well above and beyond. Now you just had to get to work.
However, Prompto had asked for your assistance in his first assignment himself, so you found yourself studying and writing under too many lights with more makeup on than you would normally wear. Of course, Noctis was part of the shoot too. Always stealing time away from you and your Prom.
The thematic of his first photography assignment was “Dedication, in Love” and he had set it up to be a double meaning between your focus on your love of magical study, and some bullshit relationship thing. Why it had to be Noctis on the other side of the table from you, you would never know. You didn’t have the heart to tell Prompto his photo would bomb because you had less chemistry with Noct than a mixture of salt and dirt.
Prompto framed you in his fingers, closing one eye for better perception and walked over to one of the four textbooks surrounding you. He went to turn the page to have it open into the middle, and you slapped your hand down on it.
“Hey, I thought you said I could work while you did the shoot!” You frowned up at him, hoping the pathetic nature of it would make him break. You hadn’t gotten a 1-on-1 hangout with him since he started hanging with Noctis, and it was making you feel bitter and pathetic. You hated it and missed your friend. Conversations always ended up stilted and guarded around your black-haired nemesis.
He smiled at you, and you sulked. Regardless of your protest, he went ahead and flipped to the random page on top of your hand, “Come on, it’s all perfect except for the fact that you look like you’re only just starting in your reading. I want you to look dedicated and absorbed. Besides, I know you’ve finished this chapter already,” he leaned in popping your shoulder with his opposite hand. What a sucker-punch. He fake frowned at you and you tried to hide your smile by tightening your lips, but the laugh was already in your eyes. He clicked a small button in his hand. He had gotten a new piece for his new camera, and it instantly took a photo. Your trying hard-not-to-smile face was now captured digitally.
“So, are we going to do this?” Noct asked, interrupting yet another bonding moment between you and your Prom. A big fake smile betrayed more animalistic tendencies as you bared your teeth into the sky, raising both your eyebrows returning back to your laptop. You refused to acknowledge how he shifted uncomfortably as Prompto quickly got back into position.
Words started to fall flat on deaf ears as you read the passage that Prompto opened up to. You felt almost like magic itself was pulling you forward. Your face relaxed, mouth opening slightly as you leaned over the book, reading the page over and over again before finally moving on to absorb the remaining few pages of the chapter. The adrenaline rush of concepts overlapping felt overbearing.
Is this… A eureka moment?
Noctis’s hand touches your arm as he tries to get your attention. You look up at him, almost overwhelmed by the meta-possibilities that this passage has unlocked. Without thinking you ask, “Noct, what do you think the crystal is made out of?” A huge smile on your face. An awkward smile perks up on his own. Suddenly you’re aware of of the sound of a shutter clicking furiously as it had been for the past few minutes. Your brow furrows and you frown, “What?”
“You called me Noct,” he leans back in his chair, smug smile crossing his face as he leans back, “we’re friends, you can’t deny it.”
You go to slam the book shut, but close your eyes hard and hesitate for a second. Sucking in the negative feelings behind your teeth you look to Prompto and ask if you can go, “I think I’ve really stumbled onto something here and I need to research this without distraction,” you gesture your eyes towards Noct at the exact moment Prom takes one last photo.
He looks ridiculously delighted, “Sure, dude. Thanks for making the time to hang today— wish you could stay longer to look through the photos but I’ll send you the best ones,” he was already walking with his camera over to his laptop. You refused to acknowledge the daemon in the room, packing up all your textbooks and laptop into a seriously over-encumbered messenger bag.
“See you tomorrow morning, I assume?” You call out to Prompto.
“You know it,” a disembodied voice replies from the opposite side of the table. You decide to just give Prom a gentle ass-slap for a goodbye as you walk out the door.
—
“She protests way too much. I think she likes me,” Noct comments as soon as the door shuts, getting up with a stretch and walking over to his friend. Prompto rolls his eyes and pulls up a photo.
“I think she might actually hate you, dude. The photos don’t lie,” he points to her scowling at him in a photo. And another one, and one where it looks like she doesn’t even notice he exists but he seems desperate for her attention as he reaches for her arm. This one was probably the winner. Perfect.
“Oh yeah, what about…” he pans between photos for a few moments, “this one. That’s a real smile right there,” his tone was more self-satisfied than he wanted it to be, but he was losing what little confidence he had. “The proof is, after all, in the picture,” he puffed up slightly, elbowing his friend to knocks him slightly off balance and is playfully shoved in turn. Prompto goes serious for a moment, searching his friends face.
“I really think that if you keep working on it, nothing’s going to change,” Prompto gives as a warning, “Trust me, I’ve known her a long time. That’s her ‘I’ve come up with a new concept!’ Face. She’s just excited,” Prompto rubs the back of his head. His friend was in for a world of hurt if he thought anything was going to come out of this. But he hadn’t been able to talk him down from it yet, and this plan had failed miserably. He just wanted his friends to get out of this weird stage so they could all hang in peace.
—
You sat, frozen in your desk looking down at the 12 page monster you had labored over the past two nights. The TA was almost finished handing everyone’s papers back as your professor sipped on hot coffee at the front of the class, gauging everyone’s reaction.
The writing itself was unmarked as if it was ignored. You flipped through the pages almost half-a-dozen times just to be sure. All that was written on the back page was a giant circled D, with the comments of ‘See me,’ written below. You folded it up as best you could, the pages splaying out uneven and imperfect like your shitty concept must have been. You shoved it into your messenger bag, the sound of a few of the pages ripping at the staple giving you pause but eventually you just you just shoved it in harder, treating it like the trash it was.
Out of what must have been self-hate you looked over at Noctis’s wimpy one and half page paper, seeing a nearly angelic B+ scrawled on his final page. ‘Nearly there, practical application seems very effective, but the theory is just slightly off. Try harder, keep studying, and you’ll get it in no time,’ you could almost hear it in his smooth irritating accent.
Why did you sit so close to the front of the classroom? Every time you looked up, Dr. Scientia was looking at you over his coffee, and you flinched away, just wishing you could disappear.
Deep breath. Okay, instead of throwing yourself a self-loathing party you need to be productive. You open your laptop in preparation to begin taking notes, almost aching for the class to finally come to a real, full start. Maybe you should also delete your incredibly sub-standard writing as well. Ifrit Below, this was such a gut-punch to your ego. This class had been so easy so far— what kind of grading curve were you on? Was this punishment for claiming he’d fuck you with a ruler? Was this him, fucking you and your future? He didn’t come across like someone who would hold a vendetta— He clearly wasn’t as he’d woken Noctis up two times in the past four weeks and that ass hole got a B+. You let out a heavy sigh as the lecture begins.
There was no playful repartee or prematurely answered questions today, even when he left room for you in his comments. No, you’re being arrogant. He’s leaving room for all of the students. This was a class of 150 students, he barely knew you existed.
You fluctuate between fuming and sad, refusing to look up while working like a stenographer during his lecture. You knew writing on paper had better recall but honestly— you’d just transcribe it later. Or not. Fuck this class.
No— no, you needed this class, and you absolutely had to pass it. Fuck! You didn’t want to have an awkward after-hours talk with the Professor you had learned to respect. Ugh, did you respect him anymore? How dare he. I mean, did he even read what you had written? You so strongly doubted it. You shifted in your seat, absentmindedly wondering if your messenger bag was causing back strain.
Why was this class two hours long? It never felt this long before. And could Noctis stop side-eyeing you every five minutes? Something between a sigh and a growl was released from you when he did it again. Your mouth was drawn in a tight, straight line as your Professor turned over his shoulder.
“Something you disagree with?” He sounded hopeful and you hated it. You quickly re-read the last two sentences you dutifully recorded and noticed something incredibly weird. You gave him the flattest look you possibly could.
“Molecular liquid expansion is a bull-shit science term, Professor,” you clenched your jaw. You should really be kissing his ass right now but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to embarrass him like he’d embarrassed you.
“Ah, and what do you think it means,” he turns around fully, a teasing smirk on his face. Holy shit, he said it on purpose. You closed your gaping mouth for just a second before breathing in and cocking an eyebrow.
“It’s a made up term for that moment when it seems like a small amount of liquid spills and it just changes into a significantly larger amount. Like, when you spill milk, but you need what feels like 40 paper towels to clean it up because it’s suddenly four gallons, or one of those oversized beach towels just to contain it from seeping under your fridge,” Oh he was laying on a full smile at you as a few of your classmates chuckled. That’s unfair. It was contagious and was absolutely boosting your mood. You wanted to keep sulking for just a little longer, not have your face dusted in soft pinks. You wanted to use that rage to argue a better grade.
“Exactly! I’d hoped you were aware of the fallacy,” he turns to the rest of the class, “So we have to ask ourselves, beyond simply saying magic, what causes the elemancy to expand at the alarming rate that it does?” You had to bite your tongue from just instantly replying as if it was a one-on-one conversation.
Carbon dioxide. Magic fed on carbon dioxide in the atmosphere and grew from it bonding to it in wild chains to expand and spread out like wildfire until the source material was completely used. It’s one of the reasons magic flasks were limited in size. Holy shit the answer is so easy, why doesn’t anyone talk.
“Is it Oxygen?” Dr. Scientia looked as defeated as you felt, a quick glance in your direction said he knew you knew and was disappointed you didn’t answer. You guess you do exist.
He turned around to continue the lecture, seeming to realize he would have to go over the base theory of molecular bonding to really solidify the concept. You wanted to pretend to be bored but honestly the basics of organic chemistry were incredibly exciting and wonderful. It was proof that magic doesn’t always have to be wild. Before the class was over you were back to be enraptured again. Sure, it was slightly long winded, but he handled their incorrect answer delicately.
Standing up from your desk you rolled your shoulder just a little bit before putting the bag back on your shoulder. It was absolutely causing strain, damn it. Noctis lifted your bag for a moment and you almost yanked it back from him. Fuck him and his good grades. You began to make your way down out of the seats opposite him when Dr. Scentia gently touched your arm startling your thoughts.
Almost defensively your hand went up to the place he touched. It tingled, which was almost more upsetting than being stopped. It was an awkward second of eye contact before he cleared his throat and too gently said your name.
“My office hours are from 5 until 7, please sign up for an appointment so we can discuss… what you turned in,” his jaw seemed to clench a little bit when he alluded to your paper— Shiva’s frozen tits, he didn’t even call it a paper. And what was this horrible attempt at a smile he was giving you? He was looking at you like you were fragile, brows furrowed and a soft voice that suggested there was nothing to be worried about. You fiddled with the strap on your shoulder, defensively holding your chin up high. He would not make a coward out of you. You simply nodded, making your way to the sign up sheet. Six thirty it was— and you signed up for the seven o’clock slot too just to steal too much of his time.
—
“Please sign up for an appointment,” spilled out of your mouth in a high-pitched, nasally, and really bad fake accent over your phone to Prompto. He had called to see if you had any free time to grab some pizza, maybe decompress a little bit after working so hard the past two days. Of course, he wanted to hang at his place with their larger TV, more comfortable couch, and Noctis’s dad paying for everything, “I, unfortunately, have to be there in like 10 minutes,” your breath was slightly labored as you booked your way across campus, getting late out of your last class of the day just in time to watch the bus drive off, “and honestly, I think I’m ready for a battle of wills over this paper, Prom. I so did not deserve getting,” you lean in, covering the phone with your hand, covering your mouth just a little bit too so no one would see your shame, “a— a D, Prom. I got a D!” You stumbled in your walk for just a moment, faking being shot through the heart before furiously continuing to walk straight on.
“No way. No, that’s like, impossible dude!” You held the receiver away from your face smiling at it. You missed his justified rage on your behalf. “I can’t believe you were almost failed!” He pauses for a moment, and you hear shuffling and a little laugh from behind him. You stop flat in your tracts for a moment before shaking your head and just stomping forward.
“I have to go—“ was said in tandem with, “Noct said he got a B+” and you hung up on him. You frowned at your phone and were basically marching in your commander boots, scuffing them and shoving your phone in your pocket. You sighed as you immediately pulled it out again, rushing up the steps and looking down to check what room number you were supposed to meet your gatekeeper in.
You slammed into an immovable wall of muscle causing you to stumble backwards and nearly fall back down the steps. Maroon gloves and a long, white coat are all you see as you slip, time slowing down around you.
Neat.
Great.
You were going to die with your last mark on your life a statement of sub-par excellence, with just brain splatter going all over the steps. That seemed right.
The owner of the white coat reached out, and grabbed the front of your jacket before you were able to fall backwards. It caused a slight choking sensation as you righted yourself on the stairs. Face already flush from exercise, you looked into the eyes of a silver-haired gentleman. You felt your heart in your throat as your eyes bulged almost out of their sockets, mouth gently opening in shock. Your eyes darted between blue and violet as all words left you. He frowned. He was frowning at you!
“Are you quite alright?” Your please-Bahamut-let-this-be-a-hallucination asked behind a snarl. He shook his head slightly expecting a reply, and you have no idea what your face was doing in the moment. All you knew was that it felt hot and you couldn’t stop staring and maybe your mouth was stretching into a dumb goofy grin. You couldn’t be sure because you felt like you were vibrating. You should answer him with some words.
Think words. What are words. Word is a funny sounding word if you say it enough. Word. It can be one or two syllables depending on how you draw it out and how hard you hit the d. No it can’t— what the fuck is wrong with you? ANSWER HIM.
He gestures an upturned hand, almost exasperated at you. Raising his eyebrows and continuing to shake his head, he speaks again for you, “You know, you can avoid saying thank you if you’d simply look where you were going,” and then he brushes past you looking entirely over-irritated at the whole exchange. You finally release mouth sounds strung together. It doesn’t sound real coming out of you, with it so weakly stated in a soft almost musical lit.
“Thank you,” annnnnd he’s gone. Your hands tighten on the strap on your shoulder shifting it upwards again as you reflect on a meeting you hope, shit, you’d even pray, that the whole reason you’re at this school forgets. Was that really just your introduction to Dr. Ravus Nox Fleuret? He’ll forget about it in absolutely no time at all. He has to. Because you’d prefer he didn’t have quick reflexes and maybe he could have been the last thing you saw before you fell and died on the stairs if he doesn’t. And there’s your watch vibrating and chiming, telling you you’re going to be late for the meeting but maybe if you run you’ll get there on time.
Fuck, you’re going to run just to get out of his headspace and your bag keeps hitting you on your thigh and it’s just sort of painful and awkward and has you looking as derpy and dumb as you feel and now you have to talk about your first nearly-failing grade and you’re absolutely spiraling get it together woman!
You take a deep at the door to your professors office. Righting yourself, you knock three times.
—
You don’t know what you expected, but the disarming sight in front of you when he called you in absolutely wasn’t it. He liked leather-bound books, modern furniture with chrome accents, plants, lots of plants, and the soft sounds of some kind of progressive jazz was playing in the background. Just quiet enough to not be a distraction. The fact was, the room smelled amazing like old literature, coffee, and ink. You hated that the reason for your first visit was because he wanted to talk about your paper, and not in a positive way.
He looked up from his desk smiling weakly and gesturing you in. He made quick work of slipping two glasses into his top drawer. One was only partially sipped from with an amber liquid sloshing about in it as he moved it too quickly off his desk.
Okay weird.
You weren’t going to let that throw you off as you took in another deep breath, holding in the fact that you were recently running to get to his office on time for your six thirty meeting. You could feel the lingering blush still on your face as his crooked smile looked over you, and he adjusted his glasses. You stood with confidence and matched his over-upright posture sitting down across from him, setting your bag on the ground next to you.
“I’m glad you were able to make it,” he leaned back in his chair slightly, a creaking sound met time with the music as if it was planned. He crossed his leg letting his shoe crest the top of his knee, and relaxed deeper into his chair. He rested his hand on his chin, an inquisitive look crossing his face, “You looked surprisingly shocked to see the mark you received today,” he comments as if waiting for you to say something.
Where the fuck was this conversation going. What does he even mean by that?
The breath was finally released from you in a scoff, “Honestly, I worked my ass off on that paper. I have no idea why you— Failed me— but I am absolutely here to argue against it!” You fluster leaning over the side of the chair to get your paper out of your bag. Yanking it out you see the disrespectful way you had stowed it. The pages rip and fall away from one another. You clench your jaw and stare daggers at him, throwing the four different segments on his desk. Crossing your arms you exhale heavily at him. You would not be put at ease by that catchy fucking tune in the background or the, quite frankly shocked look on his face as he plants both feet back on the ground.
And now, now he has the audacity to remove his glasses and reveal his whole beautiful—no not beautiful, mean— face and let out a soft laugh. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looks at you without any obstruction and you feel shame as he frowns and his shoulders slouch downwards. He collects the rumpled papers in his hands delicately, smoothing them out in his desk and making quick work of putting them in order. Re-stapling the corner, he finally speaks, “Please pull up your assignment requirements, and read it out loud to me,” he closes both his hands overtop of the mess that was your whole life for two days.
Okay, what kind of power tripping fantasy is this? You’re scouring your bag and pull it out, nice and tidy from the thin folder it was set in.
“Please write a two page maximum—“ everything in your entire body went cold. Your breath was gone, and you looked up at him, ready to continue to read the words but he had already held up his hand in a request for you to stop. You couldn’t close your mouth. It was frozen in horror. Your entire body wanted to fold in on itself at your incredibly armature mistake.
“I honestly thought this was another way that you were challenging me,” his fingers tap at the paper gently, the sound causing your focus to shift there while your mouth waited for the plunge of a killer wasp to land and nest there, “as you seem to have a tendency to do,” he kept looking at your face as he rubbed his hand behind his neck. You finally slump into your chair.
Covering your face with your hands the words just come out of you, “I am a fool. I almost always read everything twice just to make sure I’ve completely digested it and I just barely skimmed the requirements once I became over-excited at the assignment,” you shook your head looking away from him, his desk. Your hands fell limp at your sides as you reflected on the glaring mistake, somewhere, off in those thousand yards. This was a horrible day of firsts.
His hand made a fist at his mouth as he watched you self-flagellate from the inside out. Almost unable to help it he reaches forward with your name falling from his lips to recapture your attention, “It’s an incredibly brilliant proposal,” he compliments, “It just absolutely missed every requirement laid out,” His face goes serious and skewes slightly, “And I didn’t fail you, I mean, how could I?” He began busying himself by flipping through the pages, and opened up to the fourth one, quoting you, “Reflecting upon the crystallization of the most optimized healing structures, I find my curiosity drawn to the known source of magic. We must consider its atomic structure, and the multitude of ways it may be able to bind with CN H2O– a manmade construct from the blending of starches and glutenous structures seasoned with a boiled down animal byproduct. I find myself confronted by inquiry. By every known current study, it should not be nearly as effective as it is, but the potency of it far exceeds any other—“ He sighs, looking at you. There’s something wistful in him and it almost breaks your heart, though you can’t pinpoint the reason why.
“You go on for three pages and you’ve managed to link cup-of noodles to the potential for the crystal to bend and fracture light with the possibility of clairvoyance. If I didn’t have such a strong foundation specifically in this field, and have witnessed this phenomenon in actuality…” His fingertips touch his temple and he finally looks up at you, “I mean it’s brilliant. It’s just absolutely not what I asked for. Where did you come up with this?” He punctuates his last statement with three fast taps, the effort shared between his pointer and middle fingers. His face has been graced with the most crooked grin, furrowed eyebrows and confusion.
Oh yeah, baby. Your mojo is back and you’re feeling that swagger as you whip out three textbooks now over-marked with rainbow-colored tabs to indicate specific topics on their respective pages. Taking out your laptop you show him the other ten papers you had been reading and referenced in the two-page long index that you did not count against your total page numbers.
The conversation stretches on for way longer than it needs to. Laugher caused by delight filling in gaps with too much excitement building between the two of you. When you finally check the time you’ve so weirdly forgotten about, it’s getting close to midnight and you have to fight back the yawn that threatens to escape you, “Shit! I have some assignments to get started on still!” Stress builds across your face as you look at him and you feel slightly disappointed. This has been delightful, discussions like this are why you’d worked so hard to get here in the first place. The eye contact is held too long and for the 6th time that night, the soundtrack of your evening repeats its first song. His face transitions from disappointment to serious in a flash, almost over correcting himself.
The air feels thick for a moment, like you’re forgetting something and he just keeps looking at you expectantly. Or, whatever that face he’s giving you means.
You slam two open palms on his table startling him from whatever train of thought he was suddenly vacationing in, and he looks at you slightly shocked, “Give me an A instead,” you demand, still slightly high on the feeling of comradery in your discussion with him.
He seems to analyze you overlong before looking away, some soft color coming to his face. Ha, he’s embarrassed he forgot why you were in here.
“Re-write your paper following the proper guidelines and I’ll consider it. This is your only chance though,” wow he really wasn’t looking at you while his face deepened even more in color. This must be a really hefty exception for him to make. Yeah, you may be flashing a slightly wicked grin in this moment but shit, you’ve earned it.
“I’ll never let you down, Dr. Ignis Scientia,” you stated, his face turning towards you as you smiled and winked at him with a tiny salute added for extra flair. His brows furrowed as he closed the books in front of him and he assisted you in getting out of his office. Yeah no, he was basically rushing you out of it now. What the hell just happened?
“I very much enjoyed our discussion— but perhaps we should not over-extend the office hours next time,” he looked down working his jaw before looking at you again. His severe and contemplative expression softened slightly as he held the door for you.
“I am, quite legitimately, always down to talk about this,” yeah no you’re still hyped up on discussion when you touch his shoulder and it takes a moment but he all but flinches away from you. Shit. Why is he being such a weirdo, “Well, okay. Goodnight, I’ll see you in two days,” your smile is coming out stiff now as you turn on your heel and begin to walk way.
“I look forward to it,” the statement came across as honest if not quiet, but his face didn’t seem to match his tone. You barely see the poor excuses at a nod goodbye, and listen for the door to close. It takes him a good thirty seconds before it shuts quietly.
Whatever. Weirdness aside, you were going to get that fucking A. And as you continued to accumulate them over the semester, you were going to be another step closer to getting into the lab of your dreams.