Markus… she didn't know his last name, hell she had to stare at him for a few minutes before her brain jogged the memory of his first name loose.

  Caroline had never paid much attention to him, mostly cause he never did anything in general. Hell, she was sure she hadn't even heard his voice either.

  But now he was grabbing her attention well, he was banged up like he'd gotten his butt kicked In a fight. A recent one too, probably last night if she was guessing right. He looked half asleep in every class she had with him. Now that she was noticing, they had the same schedule.

  The cut on his forehead was partly covered by his messy, pale Grey hair. His hair wasn't gray like old people's hair was, it was closer to silver than white. He also had a big bruise and three thin, long cuts on the left side of his face. They all looked like… like they hurt alot.

  She felt her lips press together and her eyes crinkle at the edges. The thought screwed up her mind for a second, but she pulled her mind back together quickly. He had a dull, vacant look on his face. He was completely zoned out, like the lights were on but nobody was home.

  His entire body was slouched forward, with his arms on the table. He was like that for hours, only really changing anything when he had to move classes. He'd get up and move to his next class, he didn't seem to pay attention when he walked, but he didn't bump into anyone then.

  After a while, he turned his head, staring directly into her eyes. His were so wide open she could see his entire iris. He didn't look shocked or surprised either, his brows were flat, it was only his eyelids that were moved at all.

  It made her shiver, it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. She was the only thing he saw in that moment, and it was scary. Those cuts and bruises suddenly made more sense, as his fists on his desk clenched. They were so tight his arms were shaking, but he still didn't move from where he was sitting.

  They sat in that stare off for a few minutes, until finally the bell ringing signified the end of the day. It scared the hell out of Caroline, Markus didn't react to it in the slightest. His attention was still entirely on her, he probably didn't even hear it.

  They sat there for a few minutes, neither really moved, the teacher was busy doing nothing on their phone. The man never really cared what students did, he was pretty clearly just riding it out to retirement at the end of the year. They still sat there, even as the others in the class cleared out.

  After a minute she realized that he wasn't gonna be the one to break the stalemate, so slowly, she got off her chair and walked over.

  ☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇

  Caroline Poole. Markus knew who she was, hell, he'd be surprised if there was anyone in the school who didn't. Weather by actually knowing her or word of mouth.

  Markus personally has never spoken to her, nor had ever really wanted to. Sure she seemed nice and all, and she never participated in what they did at the school. But not attacking him didn't make him immediately want to talk to her either. Even more than her being a nice person, her Animate probably had just as much said about it as she did.

  ‘A breath of life’ she could heal, hers was the only one like that in the school. While there were rules against people using their animates at school unless given express permission. And Caroline had express permission to use her Animate whenever.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  And for some reason, she was staring at him. He could feel the looks on him all day, but hers was especially noticeable for some reason. The others were watching and mocking, or simply ignoring him. But she was truly staring into him. Like she was trying to dig through him with her eyes alone.

  And so he stared back at her, and her face felt weird. It wasn't anything he was used to, most of the time other people stared at him with annoyance or apathy at his existence. But she was just… just curious. Her eyes were slightly squinted, brows drawn together, and her mouth was ever so slightly open as well.

  His eyes scanned over every minute detail they could, her dark skin was smooth, with no blemishes he could see. Her hair was neatly in dozens of small braids, seemingly well taken care of. Her hands were smooth as well, there were no marks or calluses on her hands from what he could see.

  And she didn't seem to be built to fight- he wasn't either, but there was a difference between them. Her shoulders and arms were round and small. It didn't seem like she was particularly built to fight

  Even the way she was dressed didn't pass his attention, she had thin, black boots that only went to the bottom of her calf.

  The jeans she was wearing were dark blue, nearly black, and they were fit tight to her legs. They didn't seem to be made of the same stiff fabric most jeans were; they wrapped close enough around her legs that he could see the shape of her legs shift with muscle when she moved them.

  She was wearing two shirts, on top was a gray T-shirt about three sizes bigger than her. And the undershirt was a white long-sleeve. If push came to shove, that Grey tee-shirt would make a good handhold.

  Whatever reason she was staring at him, it didn't seem like she wanted to fight about it. Him on the other hand, his hands were shaking trying to keep himself in that seat. Ever since last night, every other thought he had was about the same things.

  About fighting whoever was in front of him, about how he could beat whoever particularly held his attention in the moment. And she was the one who was holding his attention right now. She didn't seem like any sort of a threat, but that didn't stop him from holding himself still with everything he had.

  Part of his brain was still holding him still about fighting, maybe it was cause he spent so long trying to force himself into the background, after a while deciding that just taking it was easier than fighting them on everything. But every time part of his brain screamed at him to throw a punch at someone, a bigger, quieter part just snuffed the thought.

  It pissed him off, everything seemed to be pissing him off. The way people spoke, the way they glanced at him. The way teachers ignored him but still acted like he was the biggest waste of time any of them had to deal with.

  The way Caroline stared at him like he was the most interesting thing in the world. Or the way she just sauntered over and sat on the desk across from him. And now the fact that he had to look up at her, despite the fact that he was taller.

  And now that she was closer, he could see that she had a strange look on her face. Every once in a while the edges of her lips pulled back towards her cheeks just a bit and her eyelids twitched.

  “Well you don't look concussed,” Wha-

  “But it's kinda hard to be sure just from looking at the pupils, when did you hit your head?” What was she-

  He didn't even get a chance to finish either thought before she shoved her pointer finger out and started moving it around in front of his face,

  “If you can, follow my finger with just your eyes when you answer,” What did she mean ‘if you can?’ Was she trying to say he got the motor skills bashed out of him?

  “What do you want?” He ended up following her finger with his eyes, even if he had half the mind to try and bite the digit off. And even then she still had the nerve to click her tongue at him like he was the annoying one in this situation.

  “To see if you're con-cuss-ed” And that felt like it was nearing the last straw of his patience.

  “Well-” He spoke through a tight jaw, trying to control what he was saying,

  “-I'm not, I talked and followed your stupid finger, so are we done?” She didn't respond, just eyeing him up and how for a moment before dropping her shoulders and sighing in what looked like exasperation. It almost made him feel bad.

  “IL be done, once you stop being difficult about me seeing how hard you hit your head.” She turned her head to the side, mumbling “But’m sure yer heads plenty thick enough ta be fine,” Markus now had a helluva lot more Than half a mind to snap that damn finger off.

  She was still waving it in front of his fac- wait,

  Why the hell was he even still following the damn finger? He could've just left the second she started talking, he could just stand up and go, it wasn't like she'd be able to stop him.

  Backus didn't bother responding to what she'd said, just getting up to turn and leave. “Wait!” Markus felt a hand grab his shoulder. It made his arms twitch as he twisted around on his heel. He didn't attack, it was an effort on his part.

  He spoke through gritted teeth. “What do you wan-” her hands were grabbing his face before he had a chance to finish the sentence. She turned his head to the side before pressing her lips to his cut cheek.

  He knew what she was doing, but that didn't make it any easier to think while she was doing it. It felt like pure heat poured from her lips deep into and under his skin, it stuck under the injuries and pushed at the bruises, grabbed the skin where he was cut and pulled it together. Scabs and bruises dissolving into steam. It hurt, of course it did; but something about the prickling pain was strange.

  He didn't… the pain didn't make him want to pull away like it should've. It made him want to lean into it. Caroline's hands pushed his head away as soon as he thought it. She leaned back from him, looking over his face for a moment before finally stepping back.

  She lifted a hand and waved it in his face, showing him away. “I'm all done now, so you can go now; sourpuss.” And she just left. He wasn't sure he was breathing, He sure as hell couldn't move for a good few minutes after she left.

  And the damndest part was, he couldn't put together why. Sure she'd kissed his cheek, but he wasn't all that into that stuff; maybe it was because of that feeling that the healing left. There was an unnatural warmness sitting under his skin like a bubble, he could feel that it was seeping into his bone.

  There was something so abnormal about that whole interaction he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way she stared at him? She watched him like he was a chew toy. But that didn't feel like the right answer, je was used to being watched all kinds of ways; She wasn't any different.

  Whatever that off feeling was, it got filtered out of his head slowly as he left as well. This time, he was simply ignored.

  That, he could tell in a moment from familiarity.

  Authors notes? Sure you can fucking italicize those, why not?