"Madness is infectious..."
Maka raised a brow, totally ignoring the professor that she normally admired. Instead, Maka Albarn's eyes drifted across the class room, over spiky hair and asymmetrical stripes. The typically note-taking pencil had scribbled to a halt, mind far from the possible contamination links between madness and witch blood. The pencil was dropped, fingers instead twirling locks of pigtail-bound hair.
Her attention was given to something of a different nature entirely, a subject that had previously never crossed Maka's fifteen-year-old mind. Interestingly enough, she found herself gazing at pair across the room, the very seat of the enemy.
No, most definitely not Ox Ford.
No her eyes rested on the quieter, more stony of the two. Long dark hair swept away from his face, pierced ears, pressed dress shirt and a stoic hatred of everything around him? Mhm...that was the boy that Maka had been staring at for the past fifteen to twenty minutes.
Harvar D. Eclair.
Maka Albarn did not dislike Harvar D. Eclair. And unlike his stupid, insufferable meister, she did not hate him. She loathed Harvar D. Eclair. An addictive, seething detest, far deeper than her mere...pity, for Ox Ford. But Harvar?
Harvar was different. Ox was direct and moronically snippy, always trying and failing to be superior. He was bothersome and annoying, but Maka was better than that. Harvar? Harvar was so calm about the whole thing, as if he was above conflict. He never really spoke, never bothering to note the lowly students around him. Even her. Especially her.
Maka Albarn was quite a focused young girl, self-righteous in the eyes on some. She knew what she wanted and virtually always got it, whether it be a beautiful grade or a beautiful dress. Harvar didn't give it to her. He barely even looked at her. And oh, how she wanted him to look at her.
No, not like that. She didn't need him to... be at all attracted to her. That was by no means her goal. She merely wanted him to at least acknowledge her, to admit defeat when she clearly beat him. To look her in the eye when she spoke to him once in a while, that'd be nice.
But that was the very thing that sparked her interest. His lack of caring, that detachment of his. Maka was a sucker for a challenge, and he was the most impossible challenge she'd ever had to face.
The fact that he was totally gorgeous didn't help.
Well, it helped a little. Maka did regrettably admit that he, her nemesis, was mouthwatering. The perfect combination of the two best traits a male could have were perfectly combined to make a perfect specimen. He had the sophisticated, classy look down: nicely groomed, well dressed and not a hair out of place. But then? Then he had to go and make himself a bad boy, which in truth, no teenage girl could resist. It might have been the glasses, the chains, the rings in his ear or the muscles that laced his arms and chest. But the overall result was too much for even pedigree Maka Albarn to really resist.
The boy across the room flipped a page, his shades sliding down his nose to accommodate. And while his fingers remained poised on the paper, his eyes, for a brief second, drifted up to meet hers.
Wow. It was a pity he kept those things covered all the time, his eyes were gorgeous...
Maka's heart fluttered, determined to hold his gaze for as long as possible.
The left corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes returned to the textbook.
What? What was that? She'd had him! He thinks this is funny, doesn't he? The nerve, the...
Attempting to hide her displeasure, she attempted to make herself look busy, grasping her discarded pencil and managing to at least pretend to be learning something. She refused to give him the satisfaction of distracting her. She was better than him, that's all there was to it. She had to prove her regency, her clear superiority over the likes of him! Why of course that was it! Honestly...
Maka glanced down at the little scribbled hearts on her notebook with shock.
What? No, I couldn't have just drawn that, could I have? There's no way I could have...Hearts? Really?
She scoffed, looking back up.
He looked back down, the corner of his mouth twitching once more.
He looked at me...
No! No, no, no. She would not be thinking like this, she simply refused to! He was horrid and less feeling then a statue! There was absolutely no reason for her to think this way, and to think about this over her studies! It was pointless! Inconceivable! Preposterous!
Who was she kidding?
So Maka Albarn had a liking for Harvar D. Eclair. It didn't mean anything, why would it? How could it? It was merely a whim, a temporary fascination. He was attractive. And annoying. That was all.
No, that was not all.
Harvar was so refined, so controlled in all of his movements. Everything he did was with purpose, focused and intense. Not only was that was Maka aimed for personally, but it was a rather alluring quality in her eyes. There was just something sensual about a man who holds his body as if he owned it. Not in the overblown, arrogant way that Black*Star did, but as if he simply belonged in his skin. He didn't need to scream it it was just the truth. He was like that about everything. So calmly assured, so strong-minded that he didn't even need petty insults or boasts to prove how suited he is for the world around him.
And then, there was the intensity. For instance, when he had looked at Maka that first time, she felt like he saw her. Way past the light makeup and outer shell, he saw her. It was scary as hell, bt probably one of the most thrilling experiences of her life. And Maka had experienced many the thrilling situation. He was just so...cutting, in his gaze. It was like he could read who she was. And he had the nerve to smile, or at least, as much of a smile as he ever made, and look down. It was like she wasn't enough. He could just look at her and think, I've seen better. She hated it. She loved it. He made her think, made her feel, questioned the authority she was born with. Not even question. He ignored it, and in doing so made it twist and redefine itself.
He looked at her and said, prove it.
And oh, how she wanted to prove it. What Maka would give to look him in the eye and let him see just what she was capable of. But the thing was, Maka thought, maybe that's what he wants me to do. Maybe, he does think I'm worth it. Maybe he's just waiting for me to...
And what made him so quiet, so walled off? A boy as handsome and intelligent as him could get whatever company he wanted. Was it really just him being aloof? Or is there some other reason as to why he's hesitant?
Maka's inner bleeding heart the same monster that drew her to Crona, now made her think. Maybe, there was more to him. Maybe, he was made stony for a reason. Protective shields are meant to protect, right? Who was the monster he needed to hide from, why did he decide to protect himself? From everyone?
I bet I could protect him if he wanted...
Okay. So maybe it was a crush. Maybe. Whatever.
"Alright class. Turn in your papers. The bell is about to ring."
Maka snapped up, eyes wide.
Her paper now was dripping with flowers and hearts and little Harvar inscribed doodles.
Stein wasn't going to like this one.
Damn Harvar!