"Oh. My. God," I groaned as I walked into my calculus 3 class. Some of the other students turned to me as I said it with a confused and annoyed expression; I twitched into a frown as realized that I had, apparently, said it far louder than I had meant. I only grumbled and took my seat, right next to the wall in the back corner.
"I'm sorry, is there a problem, miss…?" The professor raised an eyebrow as he shuffled papers. He didn't seem too bothered, mostly concerned, but still managed an annoyed air about him. I huffed out a sigh.
"N-no," I frowned. "It's just that, if you'll excuse my rather blunt opinion," he looked up an his brow furrowed with interest, "there's only one other girl in this class of thirty-something students. All my classes are like that. I'm just… tired of it, is all," I slouched a bit. The professor looked shocked, and my face heated. Maybe I shouldn't have opened up like that…?
"Ah. Well, I can see how that would be frustrating," he awkwardly mumbled, going back to shuffling through things. "I have brothers. I know that it can be, erm, tiring," he settled. He gave a kind of sincere-but-awkward 'I want to make you feel better but I can't really do anything about it' smile. I gave him a genuine enough one back. At least he understood; that, alone, was putting this class at the top of my list, and it was the first day still.
I glanced around and noticed a few of the guys frowning at me; of course they would be. I met their eyes in a challenging stare, and they backed off. That's right, fuckboy. If you have a problem, either shut the fuck up or say something about it.
"Well, I suppose that class is starting in a few minutes, though I might as well start early… is that everyone?" The professor rambled and glanced around, thumbing through the stack of syllabi that he had printed out. He finally decided that he didn't care if it wasn't, and began passing out stacks to the rows.
"Excuse me, I believe you are professor Lauchman?" The door pushed opened and the professor turned, surprised. I couldn't quite see out the door to who was talking, but I highly doubted a student would make that kind of entrance.
"Oh! Yes, you must be Michealis? Ah, everyone, this is your TA. He's going to run the lessons for me on some days, so get on his good side," he chuckled, and a few of the students gave the obligatory chuckle back. I, on the other hand, was sitting intently up in my chair, leaning forwards on my small desk to try and see who it was. Finally, my curiosity was satisfied as the stranger strode in.
Well, "stride" seemed like too harsh a term to describe how he moved: he was flowing and graceful, like pouring wine into a glass. His features were sharp and well-cut, and he sported a tall, lean build. His hair was as black as a raven's – actually, no, that wasn't right, somehow. Black as the crow's feather, I settled internally, and even though ravens and crows were both black, this seemed somehow more fitting. His skin was white as snow, like a porcelain doll. He was dressed well enough, casual in a "I know I'm better looking than you so I don't have to try hard" kind of way. His eyes flicked to mine and a smirk played over his features.
I instantly felt a frown fix itself on my face. My brow scrunched down, and I got a kind of nauseous feeling in my gut along with a chill up my spine. There was something so absolutely sickening to that look, though I didn't know why for the life of me. I shivered a bit and realized that I had almost broken my pencil between my hands. I blinked myself out of my trance and looked away. How could someone be so hot, not even say a single word, and yet somehow give me every reason to think that he was detestable? I huffed out a sigh and drummed my fingers on my desk.
I jumped a bit as papers hit my in my arm. The student next to me had hit me with them, scowling that I had made them waste time on passing me the syllabus.
"And who would you be?" I jumped again. Wouldn't you know it, tall, dark, and creepy was standing in front of where I was sitting and smirking down at me.
"Um…" I frowned, and then, gathering my senses, fixed the most bored expression I could muster on my face. "Lydia Hellsing."
"Hmm, is that so?" He mused. "Well, Lydia, you seem to be the only one who has sequestered themselves away in the corner here; from the looks of it," he added, peering down at my notebook, which was covered in doodles and drawings, "you're not one to take notes too seriously, either. It would seem that you do not expect trouble from this class." I opened my mouth to tell him off for assuming that, but then remembered that he was in a position of authority and thought better of it.
"Why would I think it would be hard?" I decided to sass him instead. "The other classes weren't. And sitting close to the door means I don't have to slowly shamble out after everyone else when class is over," I defended, my face heating a little with the indignation of explaining myself to him.
"Ah, right you are," he nodded, looking a bit impressed. "I am sure that your name will be one that I remember, thought not for reasons related to tutoring. And you…?" He turned his attention to the next student, and I let out a breath that I hadn't known I had been holding.
I'd been around him for all of two minutes, and already, I could guess what kind of person he was. He moved almost too perfect; as if he were trying to imitate how normal people walked. He'd seen some shit go down, I instantly knew, because some of my friends had that same kind of walk. I shook my head and tried to pay attention to the syllabus that the professor – Lauchman, apparently – was reading out loud. As much as he was kind of creepy, it would be hard concentrating with someone that hot in the class.