Desmond was suprised. This was not a feeling he found himself commonly experiencing all that often. However, he now felt it.

In front of him, Lizzie Hearts was standing. She didn't look like what Desmond recalled her to look like according to what she looked like last year. The streaks in her hair were no longer dyed a bright, heart red, but the deep red color of blod. She was wearing contacts of a matching shade. She had on gothic/emo/scenic cloths, such as a black Pierce the Veal t-shirt along with ripped, dark gray skinnie jeans and fishnets that could be seen under the holes in her jeans. She had on fingerless fishnet gloves and a red corset that sowed off her good body, especially her chiseled elbows. She also had a tutu-ish skirt that was dark and multilayered over her jeans and fishnets. Her glorious shiny black hair as black as night fell over one of her contacted eyes. She also wore bows.

Desmond's heart was set a-flutter, but outside his face remained with the emotion of a steel chain. "Lizzie? What the? Bitch, why do you look so kawaii?"

Desmond may have seemed mean by calling Lizzie the b-word, but he only did that because he was supposed to be evil and so was she so they both understood that it was just a compliment.

"I'm going for the scenic style love." Lizzie said in her thickly cute British accent, which sounded dakrer than usual in a way that made her sound totally hot.

"You look more gothic to me, or maybe emo."

"Off with your head, I am the scene child!"

"Okay sure. You seem emu and maybe a little evil conformist but whatever." Desmond said while he was going to sit down, he didn't feel like an argument. He watched Lizzie as the class started but not in a perverted way or anything. As his name was called, he began to feel that this year would be unlike any others.

But what did that really mean? He would still be stuck with a hateful aunt and a terrible destiny of boat death when all was said and done so his impromptu affections didn't really have any reason to them. Desmond hid a frown as he thought about his destiny, which he was only following because he had to and didn't have anything else to do with his sorry life, and shifted his seaweed arm gloves to make sure they were still on in a firm and modest fashion. He had already lost all his hope and didn't think that love would have the power to make him start feeling again. Damn was he wrong.


What do you think, SansFans? Sorry Lizzie isn't like she is in canon but hey it's fanfic and it's all for interestingness. Thanks to KawaiiToasterDesuDisapproves for profreading for me: you're the best toaster of them all.