(A/N): For you, riesling, because I never intended to make this a multiple chapter story. XD Your review spawned a criminal amount of plot bunnies! Plus, unlike my other AU, I have no idea where this one will lead; the way I see it, this might grow to become a series of connected one-shots.

The Apple Of His Eye

Yuna remembered the first time they were alone. Four years ago, after one particular day of class when she managed to answer all questions pertaining to her latest lesson (and then some, much to her chagrin), she watched the last stragglers finally empty out the classroom. She let out a huge sigh, rubbing her forehead. At long last, peace and solitude.

A soft, timid voice made her jump. "...Ms. Alexander?"

She recollected herself, working the smile back on her face. "Y-Yes? How may I help you?"

"I wanted to thank you for today's lesson. I really enjoyed it."

Her heart swelled, flattered. "Thank you."

This poor boy had waited a whole twenty minutes just to say that? She commended him for his patience. Wracking her brain for his name, her face lit up with recognition. Baralai. The Freshman who always arrived fifteen minutes before class, always sitting at the front. Always hiding behind his shaggy bangs and thick clothes. Always attentive, always writing. Quiet and polite. Very pretty.

He never incited trouble, never gave her a problem. Except for his hair. She hated the way his long bangs hung over his eyes. It impeded his concentration, especially during free writes when he must raise his dominant hand to brush it back. Worse, he did it every two minutes, and it took her a whole week of four consecutive class sessions to realize that innocent motion became her new pet peeve. Other than that, she found herself marveling at his beautiful, majestic hair. She wished her hair flowed as nice as his. It looked soft. She wanted to touch it even; brush those infuriating bangs out of his face, and perhaps catch those eyes that continue to elude her.

And then she snapped out of her daydream. Such inappropriate, frivolous thoughts! What had she been doing again? Oh, right. She had planned to go straight home, having packed ungraded assignments and half-completed portfolios of short stories inside her large purse. But Baralai had lingered, requesting a moment of her time. His hopeful smile rooted her in place, and with a cordial grin she decided to oblige.

"I'm sorry. My mind was elsewhere. Was that all you wanted to tell me?"

"No, I..." He fidgeted. "I-I also wanted to apologize. I know I don't participate enough in class, and I want to, I really do, but... Whenever I think about raising my hand to read aloud, I become nervous. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She smiled, pleased by his willingness to confide in her. "I understand you're shy. I used to be super shy, too, back in high school. Especially back in high school." She paused to laugh, which earned her a tentative smile in return. The turtle peeked out of its shell! She considered that progress. "You know what, I have an idea. Why don't you read aloud to me right now? Nobody else is around, so you should be safe."

"Can I? I suppose... Um..." Baralai became nervous again. Regardless, he reached into his messenger bag to pull out his binder, flipping through the pages. "I actually wrote something during the free write, which I think you might like. Would you like me to read that one to you?"

"Certainly." She gave him an encouraging smile, leaning back against her desk with her hands clasped.

He started to recite to her, a romantic poem by the sounds of it, but unlike all the others she read where she could not imagine his voice, now she could finally hear it. His vivid writing style had already impressed her on paper, but this? His voice flowed like sweet music in her ears, light and timid piano keys that seduced her heart in its lovely rhythm. Why else would she feel her heart race just now? The fault lied in the power of his words, not the boy himself.

"Her eyes are the color of spring grass and the summer sky. I see her – twirling, spinning, dancing – her hair sashaying to the notes of a gentle breeze. The sunlight soaked her hair, bestowing it with lustrous warmth..."

And he continued on, cradling the paper in hand as if he were holding the object of his affections.

Baralai entered her life in the Fall, and left just as fast. Always walking in and out of her door; face always shadowed by his unkempt hair; body always covered by clothing thick enough to survive through a Russian Winter. And just like how grey clouds and brown leaves disappeared for sunnier days and greener trees, so did her thoughts of the quiet, studious boy.

Once Spring semester finally came around, his presence in her Creative Writing Intermediate class shocked her.

She did not recognize him at first and resumed her writing on the board, focused on her task. The first one to walk in before class started, and she checked her watch. Fifteen minutes until. The moment he placed his backpack down in his usual seat did she turn around to face him. He moved to stand in front of her, dwarfing the Asian woman in height. Yuna blinked. Had Baralai always been this tall? No, his height did not change. His demeanor did.

He forgone his jacket, a security blanket he never went without. He cut his hair, a barrier that separated him from the world.

And his eyes. What a lovely shade of dark. "It's nice to see you again, Ms. Alexander."

And yet, when he smiled, they glowed as bright as amber.