Cognoscente

AN: This story is for LovelyPriestess, who loves this pairing J Hope I did an okay job. Set after book two, so Zahi is a normal teenager. Not a oneshot! Le gasp!

Disclaimer: Do I need to do these? I mean, I obviously don't own the series, for writing fanfic for your own work would be the pinnacle of stupidity.

Cognoscente: people who have a refined and superior knowledge of a subject, especially the arts

He knows that this will only hurt him in the end. That this was a ridiculous fixation, a moronic idea, and an even worse execution. He knows that she is all but oblivious to him now, and that he's far too much of a coward to initiate a social interaction.

Calloused, grimy hands covered with a thin layer of charcoal and fingerless gloves dance across a grainy page, shadings beginning to metamorphosis into full-fledged lines, lines beginning to form a distinctive shape. He muses absently as he colors in a darkened spot that shadows cannot exist without light to shine on them. There is no noise, only the scratching, smoothing, and occasional grunt of frustration when a part of the sketch does not agree with the mental image that he holds in his mind.

It's a nice enough day outside, and Zahi has skipped his classes for the afternoon to sit underneath a tree in the school's courtyard. He goes ignored, for the most part, as he's an advanced student with a superior intellect. Existence for over eight hundred years will do that to a guy. He pauses from his ferocious drawing for a moment to flex his cramping fingers and to straighten the dark wool scarf around his neck, tossing his head slightly to clear his vision of the stray brown hairs that had obstructed it.

He stares down at the drawing, and realizes suddenly that it seems complete. It doesn't match what he had wanted to accomplish, but all the same it's finished. His expectations nearly never match up with the results, anyways. He sighs under his breath, a long drawl, and disappointment is evident on his angular, handsome features.

There is only one person in his sketch, and he has this empty feeling inside that demands there be two.

Frustrated, Zahi tears off the page with perhaps a little more force than necessary, and crumples the sketch into a ball, lazily tossing it at a wastebasket a few feet away. It misses, riding the edge before falling off onto the ground. Not having enough desire to go and place it in the basket, he ignores it and tries to focus his mind on something else, a different inspiration for art.

However, after nearly an hour of trying to shade landscapes, Zahi admits that there is only one subject he's truly interested in drawing.

He knew this was going to hurt him in the end.

The bell dismissing class rings, and Zahi reluctantly picks up his supplies. Silently, he retreats from the courtyard, hoping to avoid a certain incessant blonde teenager and wishing to have a certain dark haired beauty stop avoiding him.

OoO

The thin, metal door to Serena's locker snapped shut with a barely audible twang as she awkwardly balanced her books in her arms, trying to navigate them towards her messenger bag before they spilled out in a tsunami of trigonometry worksheets. The hallways are practically deserted, she had just finished with cello practice in the school's orchestra pit, and every movement she made seemed to have an unnatural echo to it. She smirked, a year ago, this would have been an uneasy environment, now it was hardly even worth a second's tension.

She began to preoccupy herself with systematically filing her textbooks into her increasingly heavy bag, sighing slightly as she felt it sag and tug harshly on her left shoulder. After she had adjusted the weight comfortably, she walked towards the school's exits, knowing that Collin, or even better, Stanton would be outside waiting to pick her up.

Her mind then began to drift as she stared at the ground absently, watching as her tall combat boots clomped against the polished linoleum of the school's floor. Slightly distracted, she didn't even register a second set of footsteps in the hall until her bag roughly connected with some poor unfortunate's stomach. Startled out of her thoughts, Serena immediately began listing off an apology, but it fell short when she noticed who exactly it was that she had literally run into.

Zahi stood not even a foot away from her, looking too shocked for words. His coffee colored eyes were trained on the bag that had just harshly rammed him, trying desperately to think of something, anything to say. Dumbly, his eyes looked up and met the entrancing viridian of Serena's.

Serena stared at him, also floundering in the speech department. Zahi, having lost the influence of the Atrox over him, was now more of a reclusive boy than his previous persona. A faded black jacket hung around his thinner shoulders, a frayed scarf tucked around his neck and his dark jeans sported a few holes around the knees. A large sketchbook was tucked under his arm. She always had a difficult time reconciling the current image of Zahi with the manipulate bastard of the past. He seemed so much more…fragile, now. Awkward, even.

"Um, hi," She stated brilliantly at last, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Sorry." She apologized earnestly.

He blinked, amazed that she had decided to talk to him, he cleared his throat, "Du rien," He said, struggling to battle the conflicting desires within him. He had been a mind manipulator extraordinaire, but he was finding it difficult just to connect with another teenager in a normal way. Zahi had been an Immortal sentry of the Atrox for years, but a young man with a crush for only a devastatingly short amount of time.

"So-"

"Comment-"

Both of them fell silent, a few uncomfortable chuckles given when they both started to speak at the same time. Serena, finally deciding that she had to get going, it was getting late and her brother would freak out soon, cleared her throat.

"It was nice seeing you again," She somewhat lied, walking forward a few steps and out towards the door.

Zahi's eyes widened as he realized that as quickly as she had reentered his life, she was exiting. He swore inwardly with his extensive, tri-lingual vocabulary, and was about to go after her when he stopped in his steps. If he went after her, what would come next? He didn't know, and the possible outcomes were displeasing.

Zahi sighed despondently and continued to do what he did best. He observed her from a safe distance as she went on with her life.

OoO

Serena cut through the school's courtyard as she made her way through, and gave a gasp of surprise as her foot stomped on the untied shoelace of her other boot. Since she was in mid-step, the momentum pitched her forward, and she almost face planted against the concrete walkway. Luckily, she was able to correct her balance quickly, and avoiding a painful, and quite frankly embarrassing, trip. After the close brush with a potential concussion, she halted her walk and crouched down on one knee, nimble fingers quickly tying the loose shoestring.

When she was down, her eyes caught a crumpled wad of paper out of the corner of her stare. Shaking her head silently to herself and grumbling inwardly about lazy people not being able to throw away their own trash, she picked up the paper and was about to toss it in the wastebasket when someone grabbed her shoulder.

Startled, she swerved, her fists brought up eyelevel, and exhaled, "Collin?" She demanded in astonishment, paper in her hand still, "You scared me."

Serena's older brother stood there, rolling his eyes as he tapped the faceplate of his wristwatch for emphasis, "You said to come pick you up half an hour ago," He said crossly, obviously not pleased with being delayed.

Serena cringed, "Sorry-"

Collin looked at the wad of paper, "What's that?"

Serena seemed confused, then followed his gaze to the litter, "Nothing-"

Yet again her brother cut her off, as he grabbed the paper out of her hand, his inner protective-older-brother control leading him to believe it was some sort of sordid love note, bad grade, or something that would provide equally tasty blackmail opportunities. When he smoothed it out, he sighed- nothing controversial, unfortunately, and handed it back to her.

"I didn't know you were in art, Serena." He said by way of compliment.

Serena's eyebrows screwed together in confusion, "I'm not," She mumbled, looking down at the scrap in her hands. Her eyes widened in puzzlement.

"Well, maybe you should take some courses," Collin suggested as he started to head off towards the exit, "Because that's a pretty good self-portrait."

Serena's mouth hung open slightly as she stared at a mirror image of her profile on the crushed paper.

OoO

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