Cognoscente
AN: I have used the cliché of having a Romeo and Juliet scene, but I did it a little bit different so I hope it's not totally boring. It's kind of a cynical take on the play. Not a very popular view, but I stand by it anyway.
3.
Zahi was beginning to discover that on the whole, he didn't care for people very much. He had been alive for over eight centuries, had been a nobleman Berbir, a French merchant, and had even served a stint as a pirate, yet the sights before him baffled him completely.
What had the teacher coined it?
Oh, yes. A 'group project'.
Edgily, Zahi stared down the group of lazy, seemingly dimwitted children from his corner of the table, evaluating them and assessing potential levels of intelligence. He was grossly disappointed.
"So then, Kaleb totally stood me up!" Proclaimed some blonde, glassy eyed girl to her friend, an equally glassy eyed brunette.
"Oh my god, what an ass," The brunette whispered 'ass' harshly, which sort of defeated the purpose of whispering to begin with, "What did Jez think?"
"She was totally pissed," Zahi wondered if the 'totallys' were entirely necessary, "But then she called Mickey, who called Hannah, who texted Logan-"
Zahi shook his head, their conversation too hard to follow even if he was still a telepath. He turned and faced the other member of his assigned group for the instruction, a dirty, haggard looking boy who referred to himself as 'Toke' even though his name was, in fact, Sheldon.
"What are we supposed to be doing?" He asked crisply, gesturing to the charcoals that were spread across the work table of the art class.
Toke shrugged, "Whatever."
Zahi's eyebrows furrowed, "I see."
If children were the future, Zahi was most certainly not looking forward to it.
"Alright shut up," Came the voice of their art instructor, Mr. Sanz. Sanz was a heavy set, balding man who seemed to sweat profusely from his forehead. Large, protruding eyes were obscured by thick lenses and made him look like a perpetually angry bull frog. "You've had enough time to discuss with your group members the assignment, so by now you should know what your topic is-"
Zahi hesitated, then exhaled slowly. What the hell, "Mr. Sanz?" He interrupted politely.
The bulging eyes focused on him, "Yes, Mr. Semblant?"
"For clarification, what is the assignment again?" Zahi questioned carefully.
Mr. Sanz glared at the boy, then sighed. Foreigners, he thought darkly, despite himself being a second generation immigrant, "The project, which I may add for you sleeping children," At this, a few heads jerked up sluggishly, "Constitutes a rather heavy portion of your grade, is to find a source of inspiration- more specifically a catalyst for some major event in your life. It can be symbolic, or literal. The main point is to exercise using different mediums and to focus on your choice of either impressionism or abstraction." Mr. Sanz then grumbled under his breath, "Though I doubt most of you could handle simple two point perspective."
A hand shot up in the air, the one belonging to the glassy eyed blonde Zahi noticed, "Can we do photographs instead?"
Mr. Sanz grit his teeth, "This is a drawing course, Ms. Tournier."
The blonde blinked, obviously still not getting it, but deciding to shut up anyways.
The bell echoed through the room, and Mr. Sanz swore under his breath, not pleased with being interrupted. "I expect all of you to be ready to share your subjects by Wednesday." He called out as the students bolted to the door.
Zahi was more hesitant to leave the classroom, picking his books up gingerly and stacking them meticulously slow before tucking them under his arm. His thoughts turned towards the assignment. A catalyst for a major event in his life? What life? Zahi's entire history had been a sham. A time dictated by some outside source that had left Zahi a bystander in his own existence. It was only recently that he had been able to establish any sort of purpose at all, and it was almost ridiculous that such a menial thing was a comparative obstacle for Zahi.
He sighed as he started to exit the room. He knew what, who, he could draw. But he also knew that it was improbable, if not impossible. Serena had her own life before him, wanted her own life with him around, and it was highly unlikely that she would want to cooperate for a school project.
Zahi caught his rant. He supposed he was being unfair. There was no reason for Serena to want to associate with him now, in fact if he had been on the receiving end of his past actions, he wouldn't want to help himself either. She was perfectly justified in being uneasy around him, of wanting to keep her distance. What's worse, is that Zahi knew he should be doing the same. He should remove himself from Serena and anything that connected him to his damnable past.
But the problem was that he couldn't. His thoughts always raced back to the unique girl with the warm smile. The memories of her blushing, playing the cello, and kissing him would constantly resurface and leave an unpleasant ache in the pit of his stomach. Worse, was that Zahi realized that those memories were not even his. They belonged to his darker side, the alter ego that had dominated him for the past eight hundred years. Who he was now was not who he was then. The Zahi that Serena liked, if that were even the correct term for it, was dead and gone. Extinguished with the Cold Fire that had given birth to him.
Zahi, Atrox-free Zahi, should not be having these feelings for his unlikely savoir. They went beyond gratitude, into a territory unknown and frightening to the ancient boy. His hands still sketched her pictures, his ears still desired to hear her music. It was as wonderful as it was painful, attending the same school as the girl he had almost destroyed and seeing her everyday.
…it was all terribly unfair.
Especially since she was spoken for.
He found it all cruelly ironic. Now that he was free from the Atrox, he had become more of a shadow than he had ever been before.
Zahi decided to head towards the library, perhaps an art book would provide him with some alternatives?
OoO
Serena chewed thoughtfully on a sandwich that she had snuck in as she sat alone in the library. A spiral notebook with some absent minded doodles scrawled on it lay before her, and in her hands was a beaten copy of some Shakespeare anthologies. Her literature teacher had assigned the class to read through Romeo and Juliet in order to write an essay on the character developments throughout the play. Serena grimaced, she was a genius when it came to math, science, or music, but throw a book at her and she was completely lost.
Sighing, she flipped a page and tried to reread the balcony scene. So there was this man in love with a fourteen year old, and their families hated each other. She smirked slightly, Tough break. She knew how the story ended- who didn't?- so it kind of cheapened the effect of actually reading through it. Serena wasn't lost to the parallel of the play and her own relationship with Stanton, and it made something nervously twitch in her stomach.
Serena finished her lunch and tried to discretely toss it over her shoulder into the trash behind her, it missed, and bounced off someone's brunette head instead. Immediately turning around, "I'm sorry-"
Her jaw dropped when she realized who she had hit. "We've got to stop bumping into each other like this," She said dryly to cover up her shock. Really, twice in three days?!
Zahi slowly blinked, as if not processing who had just clocked him in the head with a wadded up ball of wax paper, "Salut," He muttered flatly, extending his hand which held the trash, "This is yours?"
Serena blushed, and then quickly tried to repress the action, "Thanks." She mumbled, "Didn't mean to hit you with it."
An uncomfortable silence followed as the two teenagers' glances darted around anywhere but each other.
"Do you like it?" Zahi finally ventured shakily.
Serena's eyebrows rose in confusion, "Like what?"
Zahi gestured to the dog-eared paperback on the table, "I assume you're reading Romeo and Juliet as well?"
"Oh," Serena said, deciding to continue the conversation as she didn't know what else to do, "To be honest, I'm having issues with it. I only see a romance in it, I don't understand all this intricate plot and development that my teacher's been rambling on about."
Zahi seemed to be having an inward mental battle, before he quietly offered, "Do you need any help?"
The telepath worried her lower lip between her teeth. It was an innocent question, and she hated herself for being so jumpy around the ex-Follower. She, having witnessed Stanton's almost complete transformation from Invitus to Prince of the Night, knew more than anyone else how the Atrox corrupted innocent souls. Zahi wasn't the Zahi, he was just an uncomfortable teenager now. There wasn't anything to fear, per se. And she really could use an extra opinion on the play.
Still, she was a bit more guarded than usual when she said, "Sure, why not?"
Zahi gave a nervous smile, and Serena discovered that it lit his face up rather handsomely, a flicker of the boy she used to have a crush on shining through, "First of all, it's not really a romance."
Serena almost laughed, "Right. Romeo and Juliet isn't a romance," She said dismissively.
Zahi shook his head, "Really, it's not."
She was, despite herself, a bit intrigued, "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"
The boy cleared his throat, "Both of them are deluding themselves into thinking it's love, there's really nothing there despite some hormones and a desire to escape oppressive social standards." He paused, "Juliet convinces herself that she's in love with Romeo because it's a safer bet."
Serena interrupted, "That doesn't make any sense. Why would falling in love with her family's mortal enemy be a safer bet?"
"Because if not, she has to marry Paris, the suitor her father chose for her. A suitor that only wants to use Juliet and doesn't love her at all," Zahi shrugged, "A fake love is better than no love at all, don't you think?"
"What about Romeo, then? He seemed genuine."
Zahi chuckled slightly, a deep sound that echoed throughout the otherwise quiet library, "At the beginning of the play Romeo thought he was desperately in love with someone else, he was pinning over an entirely different girl." Zahi paused, noticing that he had Serena's undivided attention for once and not sure whether to be pleased or terrified, "Then he forgets all about her and is suddenly entirely devoted to Juliet? Seems a little, how would you say… 'flaky', to me."
Serena was quiet, digesting this, "But they die for each other in the end."
"I think it's meant to be symbolic," Zahi offered, "Juliet sees Romeo dead, her only hope of escape from her overbearing world, and realizes that there's no way out- save for one. Romeo, at the end of the play, is now a murderer and an exile. He's completely ostracized himself from his own family, so Juliet was the only one still left that cared for him at all, even if he was just a last resort. They didn't die for love, they died for rather selfish reasons."
Silence yet again encompassed the room, and Zahi coughed into his hand, "Did that help?" He ventured timidly.
Serena still mulled Zahi's interpretation in her mind, before the smallest of smiles crossed her face, "Yeah, I think it did." She paused, "Thank you."
A look of contentment crossed Zahi's face, and he muttered a soft, "It was nothing," As Serena turned back to her homework, now scribbling ferociously on the notebook.
A few moments passed, and Zahi watched her placidly as she worked, the slight furrow of her brows and the tug of a frown at her lips speaking of her concentration as she completely absorbed herself in her assignment. Quietly, he drew out some paper and started to draw her face's outlines on his paper with a pencil.
After all, he had just helped her with her homework, she should help him with his.
OoO
Zahi's last name was made up by me. It's French, even though it is implied that Zahi originated from Morocco, so it should be an Arabic or Berbir name instead. But think of it as a pseudonym. Yay for pseudonyms! It means to pretend. My creativity surely knows no bounds /sarcasm.
