Disclaimer:

Question:

My Answer:

Characters: As requested, my own two characters from my nuzlocke: Damion and Odile. If you want to know more about them, read my Platinum nuzlocke : )

Summary: Is their relationship one-sided or not? That's the question…

Delinquent

The doors of the high school office swung inwards as I pushed them open, and I stormed into the room, not caring at the receptionist's warning look. My eyes found their target, and I strode towards the two boys that sat in the plastic chairs, waiting to be called to the principal's office.

"You," I said, my voice distorted with loathing. Damion, his lip split and his eye blackened, and John Marshland, equally as battered, winced as I came to stand before them. My eyes bored holes in John. "You bastard. First you insult me, and then you get into a fight with Damion?"

"Odile," Damion started.

"He started it," interrupted John, blood dribbling down his chin. "He's so whipped, you have him by the-"

"Miss, head back to class," the receptionist interjected. "I'm sure your teacher's missing you."

I remained where I was, glaring stiffly down at John.

His smile was as bloodstained as it was patronizing. "You already got your wannabe-boyfriend to do your dirty work for you," he said. "Fuck off."

Before I could reply the principal called him in, and he shoved past me. Damion and I were left standing there, both not meeting each other's eyes.

"You're an idiot, you know," I said eventually.

"So you've told me."

I glanced over. He was staring at the floor, his arms resting on his knees.

Sighing, I collapsed into the now-vacated chair beside him, my anger folding up and vanishing. "Why'd you do that?" I groaned. "John's a jerk, but that doesn't mean you have to waste your energy brawling with him."

His gaze was still trained on the floor, and he mumbled something incoherent.

"Pardon?" I said, leaning closer in an attempt to catch the words.

"I saw you crying," he said, his cheeks burning, "over what he said about you."

Realization dawned, and I surveyed his bruised face with a fresh wave of emotion. "You idiot," I repeated despairingly, touched and horrified in equal measures. I put an arm around his shoulders, being careful not to put pressure on any of his injuries. "Honestly, what am I going to do with you?"

He seemed gratified. "Well, don't get any ideas yet: you'll have to wait and see how badly I get punished by the principal."

"If you weren't so beaten up, I'd punch you," I told him fondly.

"You love me," he scoffed, leaning his still-hot cheek into my hair.

I couldn't suppress a laugh. "Like a munchlax loves poffins."

"Be sarcastic all you want, but we both know that you're confusing your admiration and longing for me with the desire to hit me."

"No, I'm pretty sure that the desire to hit you is, you know, the desire to hit you."

"Ever the delinquent, Odile. Ever the delinquent."

"Says the head delinquent himself."

"I'm not a delinquent," he said with exaggerated pride. "I'm your prince in shining armor."

"Armor's overrated," I complained. "A t-shirt and jeans is fine."

"Am I riding a rapidash?"

"No; a bike."

"A motorbike?"

"Just a regular bike."

"Do you seriously want to be rescued by a normally dressed guy on a bike?"

I shrugged. "I thought we were talking about you."

He was quiet for a minute. "And if we were?"

"Then it wouldn't matter what you were wearing, or anything like that. All that would matter was that it was you."

"Miss," repeated the receptionist with thinning patience, "get back to class."

My arm was still around Damion, and I felt some of the heat from his cheeks transfer onto mine as I brushed a light butterfly kiss of thanks onto the side of his face. "Good luck with the principal," I said, standing up and beginning to walk away. "Don't get suspended," I called over my shoulder, sparing him one last glance as I went out the door. "Math will suck without you."

I saw him press his hand to his cheek, and he stared after me with something akin to fluster before the door swung closed between us.