Thomas hadn't ever been one for love. Being as critical as he was of films and plots, it was sometimes hard for him to remember the differences in his real life. He didn't imagine his life as a film, that wasn't the problem. No, that would have been far too childish. The problem was, really, that he got too connected to stories in completely the wrong ways. Instead of focusing on the present and setting his priorities properly, Hunt tended to dwell on the future or the past - neglecting his own relationships.

Yvonne had been perfect, and he had thrown it away because of his career. Short term, that had ruined him. Regret had destroyed him from the inside and he had wished to turn back the time, cliche as it was. She was his first love, and it had hit him with all the ridiculous emotion that people said it did.

Long term, Thomas was stronger because of it. Meaner, sure. But stronger too. He had built up his walls to the outside world, squashed emotions and put his no nonsense approach on high alert when he started teaching at Hollywood U. Nothing phased him and he made very little time for the insufferable problems his students turned into mountains.

Priya, he found, was much the same as him with her own students. She mirrored his teaching style - his firmness, harsh grading and general disinterest in anything outside of the times when students could learn.

Except she didn't. Not entirely.

He found that out quite quickly.

Priya was interested in testing her students, pushing them till they nearly snapped...and himself.

Pursuing a relationship with him, to be precise.

It had been a long time since he'd dated, but Thomas could admit to being curious. She seemed to be as good a fit as Yvonne had been. Perhaps better. She was more fiery, if that was possible, and could match him quip for quip. So, they tried dating. For around two years it worked. Significantly longer than it would ever have lasted with Yvonne. (Thomas had long since realized that even if he'd met her that night, even if they'd run away...it couldn't have lasted. She had a boyfriend, and Thomas wouldn't let himself get involved in something like that. It wouldn't have worked past his teen years either.)

Despite the Christmas they had spent together, Priya and Hunt didn't match either. She decided and it didn't effect him the way the end of his previous relationship did. The circumstances were completely different anyway. This was mutual - it had to be, they saw each other at least weekly. Apparently they weren't as close as Thomas had thought they were. Probably just similar, he supposed, rather than close.

Thomas' contacts had grown alarmingly quickly before he had become a professor and they continued to afterwards. Not that he minded. It was something to show his students. To inspire them, and to give them another reason to listen to him. He was a door into the industry if nothing else. They would need talent to stay, of course.

Marianne became the focus of Hunt's attentions when they met at New York Fashion Week. She wasn't someone that he would usually be interested in but she was forward and confident with her opinions. That was what he found most attractive. They were agreeable opinions too and they presented enjoyable conversations.

However, as quickly as their relationship had begun it was over. Amicably once again. As it turned out, conversation was about as much as Marianne was good for, in the politest way possible. Hunt maintained very little interest in spending extended periods of time with Marianne. Other then catching up occasionally he was fine being apart.

So, they split and Thomas found himself alone again. It wasn't something he had thought would ever bother him and of course he wouldn't ever admit it. He barely even wrote about it in his journal. He was, of course, human though...and the loneliness got to him sometimes. Just sometimes, alone in his apartment when he was grading tedious paper after tedious paper. Usually, when he'd had enough, Thomas went to the bar down the street. Quiet and nearly empty at the time he was there, he used it as a recluse.

Until she came in.

New. Very obviously new and inexperienced but with all the confidence in the world.

Thomas scoffed.

Shunned her.

He couldn't help it. She was young and naive and her eyes shone in a way that he recognised from his past.

And he hated it.

Hips swinging smoothly as she made her way to the front of the bar and into the stool next to him, neither her steps nor her smile faltered. Ordering water with ice and lemon, she shot a smile in his direction.

Thomas glared and still she didn't flinch, so he rolled his eyes and propped his chin in his hand. Ignore her and she'll get the point.

Evidently she didn't.

When the occupant of the stool on her other side lit up a cigarette her nose crinkled in distaste and she shifted towards him instead. Why was he noticing? He was supposed to be ignoring her...to be giving her what he was sure was a very sudden jolt back to reality. If it wasn't reality where she came from, it certainly was in Hollywood.

They were completely different. Hardened and purposely ignorant as he had become, he couldn't shake her off completely. Her sunny disposition remained when he stole another glance at her and she caught him, soft smile replaced instantly with a mischievous giggle. His lips twitched at the sound and Thomas huffed and turned away.

For the rest of the night the amber liquid in his glass consumed all of Thomas' attention. It wasn't long until the music began to fade out and the night drew to a close. She'd spent the hours in the same spot, content next to him apparently. It was almost a shame that she wouldn't get to see her mistake. He turned to face her for the last time before standing to leave. The stool was empty. Blinking, Thomas wondered absently when she left and how he didn't hear her. Not that it mattered. The end of the night was also the end of their non-existent relationship.

Two days later, the first Monday of the semester brings a surprise.

The confidence, the glittering eyes and that damn giggle make their way through the door. Late, but on the same set of swaying hips. He scowls, same as before, and corrects her. Firm and sure, voice calm and even in spite of his surprise.

This time, she doesn't smile. She sets her lips into a matching thin line, raises her eyebrow and slides into a seat - challenging him. Mildly impressed but endlessly irritated he allows her in for one reason and one reason alone.

Thomas wants to break her.
He needs to break her.

And still he hopes that he never does.