Clack, clack.
The sound of Mr. Yoo's yellow chalk squelching against the sun faded green chalkboard. It was one of the warmer autumn days and the sun was once again spilling through the arcing windows to make all of what was written nigh unreadable. At least to the back row of the science department it wasn't, an excuse well known to those who opted to sit there. You didn't need to write notes because Yoo never closed the drapes in the front half of the large lab and he was already talking mostly in Japanese anyway. Can't see, can't hear, and won't write. Also don't care.
Still have to sit through forty five minutes of agony, anyway.
She really thought that more could be done with her time. She sat cross legged on her stool, one boot heel hooked on the rung. Her 'lab partner' was late, ten minutes of class already in—and whether or not she was content with this was debatable. She detested him in his striped grey wool sweaters and lame beanies, his laid back demeanor and classically stoner appeal. But she also resented being left to sit alone at her lab table, staring at her nails after having picked them clean. Bickering with him at least filled her last period of the day with some sort of fulfillment. Leaving for the day with a smirk on her face because she'd bested him in verbal combat made… it all feel better. Especially when he had that dumb puzzled look on his face as she left him in the dust.
Her head lolled back, and she pushed off of her hunch with her forearms and decidedly ran the fingers of her left hand through her smoothed back blond hair. Her finger curled in one of the persistently sticking strands, and she toyed with it for a moment. Yoo was taking questions from the goody-goody students upfront, and didn't even bother to look her direction anymore. Half a semester of her wit, charm and grace had derailed him from any attempt of receiving a reply when he asked her what solvent he had just mentioned three minutes before. He likely saw through her cheating ways, but well, she never got caught. Psh.
As if speaking of the devil, the door to the lab was knocked on three times in quick succession. Larxene's pale blue irises flickered up to the corners of her heavily lashed eyes, her chin tilting upwards as if she thought some vague interest might come from the disruption to the mundane class. Many other heads lifted, and the brunet pipsqueak first row seemed a little disgruntled that he was not given proper acknowledgement for the solution he'd just rattled off. Teacher's pet. Bah.
Yoo apathetically opened the door and pulled it in ajar, and the tall lanky figure on the other side seemed just as laid back. The redhead was ushered in with Yoo's gibberish 'herro mistar Axu' and Larxene's eyes narrowed. But she smirked as well. Perhaps the next forty minutes would go by in a faster manner as she pushed her assigned lab partner's buttons. Larxene leaned back and straightened her spine, uncurling again from her hunch like a cat waking from a sluggish sleep.
As the redhead passed the tables at the front on his way to his seat next to her, he made an uncalled for detour passed the annoying brunet. He swiped one hand over his head, and took his pen with the other. Sora, who protested with a 'hey!', fought vehemently to swipe it back but the redhead's arm was too high and he was already several long strides away. Sora sat agitated, but looked back to the board upfront.
Axel was up one pen. Possessing no bag like usual, he had no paper—but maybe he could doodle on his hand if he got bored. He tended to do that if not on Larxene's things on the sly, so that when she found them later on she'd have a pleasant surprise. (Although surprises did have their consequences, for that one time he wrote 'DYKE' in scrawling and particularly elegant letters over her English Literature essay, she had sought retribution by tackling him during PE. For a skinny blond bitch she possessed some ungodly weight. Maybe it was in her thighs… He made note to ask sometime.)
Twirling the pen through his fingers, he stopped at his desk. He arched a fine brow at Larxene who sat in her seat, seemingly not impressed that her book bag and sprawled items contained usually there in, were sitting on his side. "Roach. Move it or lose it." He said, tilting back his head and placing his hand on his hip.
Larxene's nose crinkled in disdain at his oh-so-affectionate pet name, and her reply was quite sharp. "Bite me." She evidently made no gesture to move her belongings, and rested one elbow on the surface of the desk. On her palm she rested her head, casually averting her attention in attempt to ruffle the redhead's feathers.
Didn't work. Axel simply tucked his pen behind his ear (the right, for behind the left was an unbent cigarette,) and leaned forward to give a great shove to her objects in a whole to glide them ungracefully to her fucking half of the desk. It'd been three minutes in at the start of the semester that they resentfully agreed that neither would put 'their shit' on the side that wasn't 'fucking theirs'.
Larxene hissed, having her papers crumple beneath themselves and she sent another vile look his way. "How gentlemanly of you." She said with the same amount of acidity, moving her elbows away from the corners of her books.
He rolled his eyes and sat down, as disinterested in the lesson as Larxene if not more so. Having him fail to acknowledge her made Larxene host a crease in her brow, somewhat annoyed with herself for not having baited him enough—she didn't want to seem like she was groping for it. His reaction, this was. "You seem fond of that kid."
"Mm, maybe." He replied, not too interested in making this topic go anywhere. A silence dared slip between them before Larxene decided to break it. She did so by kicking his chair.
He looked up at her, his brow raised once more. "What."
"Nothing." She said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her arms were slightly cold, her long sleeved black sweater hanging in her locker and all that she had on was her pale purple and white tank-top. "You're just too close. Move over."
He sent her another tired look, and sighed before abiding her wishes. If it shut her up, he was willing to try anything. "There you go, Roach." He said after shifting his chair but an inch to the left.
"Don't call me that." She said in growing annoyance.
"Go to hell, Laureen." He replied in monotone, staring forward with his chin on an upturned palm.
A moment of silence. A rather repulsed sounding reply did come. "Don't call me that either." If there was something she was not fond of more than Axel himself, it was a birth name of hers that she shared not only with her mother but the last five women on her maternal side. Traditions were stupid, and she kindly took to forceful corrections.
"Roach it is, then." He said, eying her. He brought his hand up just in time to block her textbook from hitting him in the face; his fingers sprawled across its back cover. "Have you even opened this? I think the shrink-wrap's still on it." He remarked, tilting his head to the side so that one green eye could peer past it. Yup, she was leering.
"Shut up." She said haughtily, pulling back the book before setting it next to her bag on the table once again. "You show up even less than me, so who are you to comment?" How she would love to dig her blue and yellow pen deep in to his closest shoulder. She'd expect it to go deep smoothly, perhaps tear some muscle if she put the right amount of momentum in to it. (For a moment she let herself indulge in this daydream, but came back to her senses.)
"At least I don't come here for the sole purpose of social entertainment." He said, cocking back his head while shooting her a look. "If I didn't come at all, I know you'd be lonely as hell. Ain't that right?"
"As if!" She said, lips in a tight line.
"Oh come on." Axel retorted, scoffing a bit.
A dirty blond from the desk before them turned around in his seat, sending a confused look to both of them. "Y'both bickering again?" He asked, shifting to look back at the both of them without knocking his sitar case askew from where it rested.
"Shut up Ahamed." Larxene said with an uncalled for amount of delight.
The blond frowned, "Don't call me that."
Axel rolled his eyes.
"Oh, right, then, Georgie." Larxene said with a short laugh covered barely with the back of a pale hand. "My mistake."
The blond frowned further, evidently not as entertained as her about his name. "Listen—this isn't funny. I told you—don't call me that." He seemed honestly upset, and Axel could have shot himself. Really. Who gave a damn—? Honestly. Instead of beating himself upside the head, he stretched his arms out in front of himself and let 'Demyx' deal with 'Larxene' however he would. She was bound to win the argument anyway, Demyx having lost his cool along with his edge on the sensitive issue of his name.
"So upset over it, hmm?"
"I mean it!"
"Don't scowl like that, you might get stuck."
"Larxene, we all agreed! We have nicknames now and—"
For a second he plugged his ears, wondering if the conversation itself would stop.
Unplugging them a moment later, he fell back in to it.
"—go back to your work, Demyx."
"Hmph."
At least it had drawn to a close. Axel rolled out his shoulder, and really wished his lighter hadn't been confiscated first period. Burning something in the table's sink might've boosted his mood a bit. Especially if the something was something that had belonged to Larxene. Shit, she was going to hone back in on him now that her third-party interactions were done with. Shit, what was he going to do now.
"And you." She said. He cringed.
"And me?" He replied, slumping forward against the desk. Not in defeat, but exhaustion.
"You smell. Quite literally." She said, sniffing the air before pinching her fingers against her nose for emphasis. While he did maintain an acrid smell of smoke about him, it wasn't as horribly evident as she seemed to suggest. "Why don't you wash once and a while?"
"Mm, why don't you go grease back your hair some more there, Roach." He quipped in reply, not at all drawn down by her comments as she was trying to make him. All really sticks and stones. They met eyes, and Larxene shook her head before glancing away. This was one of those days where Axel was being difficult, perhaps a little too smart, and she was put off.
Him reaching across her to take a book that was hanging out of her bag did not help.
"What are you—" She said with her lips pursed, reaching to grab back the book.
No success, he quickly had it in front of him. She lunged for it again. He held it outstretched in his other hand to the side, a wry smirk on his face. Amusement. He was amused.
She was seething.
"What is this…" He said, "a hidden agenda, oh my." He flipped it open with his thumb, curiously inspecting it from afar as he held Larxene at bay with his other hand. She had nails. Day-um.
"You bastard, give that back." Her voice rose in pitch, and she snarled quite viciously.
"Friday the thirteenth—" He read aloud, ignoring her snarling, hissing and very charming little self as she tried to forcefully remove his arm from its socket. "Is this some sort of diary, Larxene? Oh, look at this—'Marluxia was complaining again about his hair, freshly dyed a shade of putrid pink. If he dares complain about split ends, I really think I'll go insane. How dreary his existence truly must be.'"
Axel's smirk grew. "You write diary entries in your school agenda, Larxene?"
"Fuck off." She said. "I get bored. What with you being the only moronic company I'm stuck with in this wretched class." She finally succeeded in throwing herself across his lap to steal back her leather bound agenda, perhaps elbowing his lap intentionally as she stood up again.
"You bitch…" He moaned, hunching forward.
"Get that memorized, you prick." She hissed.
"You troo!" Called Mr. Yoo, apparently displeased. "Harray, nao!" He knocked his ruler against the desk sharply, and pointed to the door.
Axel took a moment to regain his composure, allowing Larxene to stomp past him in her five foot two angry little way. (Her ass was quite fine, he would assure, if she wasn't such a snitty little thing he might've actually entertained the idea of finding her remotely attractive. However, her personality and penchant for making his life around her hell did do a little bit to dissuade him.) He stood up and followed after her, yawning as he exited the room to the lab.
She was standing to the side of the door, blowing a blond strand of hair away from her face. She was clutching that book to her chest, and did not bother looking at him. She rather fancied glaring through the row of lockers before her instead. She'd left her belongings in the room, to her own dismay (and Axel's potential amusement,) and was left standing there until the bell rang. Axel, however, held no such ties—and was already walking away.
Maybe he'd go find a snack machine. Burn a few things.
"Bastard." He heard her mutter behind him.
"Love you too, senorita" He called over his shoulder, lifting a hand in to the air before he turned the corner of the hallway.