For a little over a week my plan to avoid him works well. Keeping him out of my thoughts however, proves to be near impossible. With a no show for a tutoring session, I'm left to my own devices, mind wandering as I doodle idly. And my thoughts turn to him. I don't like that he could read me so easily. Even David, my literal and actual twin brother, has trouble connecting to me most of the time.

It doesn't help that everywhere I've gone lately, I've heard people talking about him. Two girls gossiping about him in the bathroom at the student union, David mentioning him in stories, some guys complaining about him in my sociology class.

"Killian Jones you said?" ugh even here at tutoring people are talking about him? "Yes, we had a cancellation and have someone available now if you have the time?" Wait...no. I whip my head around to the front desk, scanning the faces there, while my boss, Rose, checks the schedule.

Yup

There he is with his stupid, charming smile and perfectly disheveled hair. My brows knit into a scowl as she leads him to my table. Mischievous delight floods his features.

"Emma, could you take him? Calculus." I open my mouth to protest but before I can answer, she's already walking away. Killian slips into the seat next to me, still grinning, and pulls a textbook and paper out of an old, but well cared for leather satchel. Faded initials read L.J. and I can see it's been carefully patched up in several places.

"Alright," I sigh, vowing to keep it professional so he can't creep me out by seeing into my soul or whatever. "Calculus?" I pause trying to gauge his age. Everyone usually takes a math class their freshmen year but he looks as old as David and i. "What year are you?"

"Fifth year senior. I'm afraid I left all the useless classes til the end."

"Useless?"

"Maths, language, and the likes." He waves a hand dismissively. "Useless." He rifles through his book, settling on a page with a list of problems at the end of a chapter.

"What's your major?" Must be art.

"Marine biology." Well that's unexpected. It must show on my face because he grins again. "Not what you thought?" I compose my face hastily. "And before you say 'you need maths for that, you incredibly handsome man'" I roll my eyes "you don't need calculus for what I want to do."

"Fair enough." I pull his book to me, figuring out where he is in the course. "Why calculus?"

"I procrastinated and that's all that was left."

I've heard that before. "Well I can definitely help with this but you're on your own for the language class."

"There," he brags, "I need no help. I'm perfectly fluent."

"Which language?"

"Parlez-vous français, ma belle?" French. Okay that is ...a little hot.

"Only enough to answer that with a no."

"In that case. Vous êtes une déesse" he winks, making me think it was something dirty. I make a mental note to look that up later.

"Calculus," I tap his book. He sighs but drops his gaze to the text, scooting his chair closer to mine. For a while we work through the problems. I listen to the issues he has working through the formulas and alter my approach to tutoring him as we work through questions one through three.

I sit back, watching him go through number four by himself. Being this close, I notice he has a few freckles and that his eyes are a deep blue, framed by long, dark lashes. He's wearing a bit of eyeliner, making his eyes seem bigger. A silver and black stud pierce the ear I can see from this side of him, complementing the necklace dangling around the v neck of his black shirt. He is pretty.

While he's thinking, he taps the pencil against the desk. Right handed and he's got at least three rings on each hand. He does seem to like his jewelry. But it's all rather masculine, some rough hewn while others are set with large ruby stones. My eyes go from the rings to his fingers. They're long and capable looking, marred by small scars. I'm watching the way the muscles move in his forearm when he calls my name.

"Hmmm?" His eyes on me I blush at being caught staring.

"Is this right?" Quickly I scan the paper, checking his math.

"Yes, that looks good. You added an extra step that doesn't need to be done though. Just here," I point to the paper, drawing his gaze from me.

I circle it and explain why he didn't need to do it and tell him to do the next problem.

"David talks about you quite a bit, you know."

"Yeah, we're twins. I'd expect that since we've been together our whole lives." I keep my eyes on his hand, scribbling out an answer.

He cocks his head to the side, watching me, "seems to me, from his stories and here, that you bury yourself in work."

"So" I reply, wary.

"I know what it's like, to throw yourself into something so you don't have to think about your past. So what is it you're running from, love?"

I stay silent, pretending to check his homework again but really I'm unnerved and don't want to show it. David isn't one to talk about my history with anyone but Mary Margaret so how can he guess so accurately? Because I do bury myself in work and school so I don't have to put myself back out there. It's easier.

"Most men would take your silence as off putting but i love a challenge."

"I'm just concentrating. It's my job to make sure you don't fail." I try to subtly move my chair away from him. "You did number six wrong." We lapse back to professionalism.

'i know what it's like...so you don't have think about your past' What's he running from I wonder? But I won't ask. If i ask him, he has every right to ask me mine.

"See," he halts the scratch of his pencil, looking up at me, "you avoid. You're doing it now. Keep your secrets, but know I see through you. Like recognizes like, love."

I blurt out what I've been thinking this while time, "why do you care so much?"

He turns his shoulders, facing me head on, a strange, intense expression on his face. Those deep, ocean blue eyes hold mine and I can't look away. I find myself wanting to trust him, to lean in and do something stupid like kiss him. Just as the silence becomes unbearable, he smiles. A real, kind smile. "I also know what it's like to have no one to talk to. I like you, Emma. I'm just letting you know a friendly ear is available to you, should you want it"

I drop my gaze to his paper again, seeing he's finished all the questions I gave him. I check the book, finding each answer to be correct. "I think you'll be alright on your own for the rest. Come back to see me if you need more help though. I'm here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday till 8." Peeking sideways, I see his disappointed expression. He gathers his things slowly, carefully tucking it all away into that old satchel.

As he makes to stand, I touch his arm lightly, "thank you." He nods, giving me another kind smile.

I watch him walk through the library to the front, sliding a pair of sunglasses on as he opens the door. He looks over at me and winks before the frames cover his face. How does he seem to know every time I'm staring at him? Probably just used to girls staring.

A piece of paper flutters, catching my attention, as someone walks past my table. I snatch it up. It's a note from Killian. He has surprisingly elegant script, small, with lots of embellishment, almost breaking into cursive.

'i know you'll be too busy watching my ass as I walk away, so I saved you the trouble of asking. 207-227-4665. K.J.'

Stupid, pretty boy.

He is kind of nice though.

A/n I don't know a lot of French, sorry if the translations are off. Also I've never taken calculus so there's like no details. Lol. Thanks for reading anyway. You guys rock. Apologies if this is someone's real number. I picked it because it's 207-Cap-hook. Please don't call it.