Lucien had not been surprised when he had made the Quidditch team once more. It was true that he had spent most of his summer practicing, but he wouldn't let anyone know that. He wanted people to think he was just naturally gifted, after all. The Ravenclaw made Quidditch half of his life. Knowledge and intellect was the other half. He was a Chaser, one of the most important players on a Quidditch team. Well, at least in Lucien's opinion. In the auditions, he had heard a few second years talking about getting the last Chaser position. Lucien had almost laughed out loud at them. He didn't, of course, but he had glared at them rather menacingly. He watched their audition with amusement and the tiniest smile on his face. He had known from the beginning that he would get the position. Why would they not choose him? He was probably the best Chaser in the whole school.

He had gotten the position of course. The Ravenclaw had not been surprised even when he had become a Prefect. Once again, his question was simple: Why not choose him? He had actually smiled when he had been given the news. Lucien loved the power of a Prefect: telling people what to do, punishing them, being feared and being seen as the authority figure. He had immediately written to his father after the news. Naturally, his father, a former Prefect, had been immensely proud of his only son. Lucien had soaked in the words of praise from his parents, which gave another boost to his already gigantic ego. He would be the greatest Prefect, Lucien was sure of this. This year Hogwarts would truly see how grateful they were to have such a talented, intelligent and handsome student in their school.

Lucien had not taken the news of Beauxbatons's ruin very well. It was his favourite school, the best school in the world. He had been incredibly furious of course. The Ravenclaw had vowed to kill the Ethereals one by one. They were not going to get away with it, not with Lucien Chevalier on their heels. He was a powerful wizard, he knew this and everyone around him knew this. The Ethereals would pay, but not now. When he graduated, he would figure out what to do with them. Right now, he needed to focus on Quidditch and his studies. Lucien hated anyone, or anything, that took away something he loved. The Ravenclaw prefect did not love many things in his life and so if someone took those few precious things away from him, he would get angry. Much too angry for anyone to be safe around him.

Lucien sighed as he entered the school, his broom in hand. His Quidditch gear was already soaked as he walked through the corridors. The rain had started only a few minutes ago. It had come very slowly then, without warning, it began to rain cats and dogs. He was frowning as he shook out his hair. He took out the towel from his bag and dried off his face promptly. The Ravenclaw walked through the corridors, smiling his radiant smile at the girls that began to stare at him once more. He was used to it, of course. His smiles were never big, but pretty small. This did not matter because they had the same effect on people. Lucien was not aware of the fact that he looked even more attractive than before because he was wet. His light blue thin shirt was plastered to his body, showing off his muscles.

He noticed a familiar face at the cafe and almost smiled. Lucien walked over to Desiree and coughed purposely. The effect the cough had on her was priceless and very much intended. Lucien raised an eyebrow in amusement as she spoke and quickly took the coffee cup away from her lips. He ran his bottom lip very slowly and rather seductively on the spot where a little bit of her lip gloss had smudged onto the cup, his eyes straight on her the whole time. "I'm going to need this more than you, ma chère," he muttered and took a seat on her table. He took a large sip, finishing the coffee, and placed the cup back on the table. His gaze was on her again as he placed his broom and bag beside his chair. He leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms against his chest with a slight amused look on his face.


[ooc: I hope you don't mind about the whole lip gloss thing. I thought she might wear some...]

The vain Ravenclaw was expecting a retort from the Hufflepuff. He had, after all, tried to get her angry with the stunt he pulled by running his lip on the lip gloss smudge. He knew that the stunt would have easily aroused any girl he met or even, in once case, have caused someone to faint. Lucien almost smiled at this thought. He had been very much surprised when she had fainted and caught by her friend nearby. The girl hadn't been unconscious for long. In fact, she woke up after a few seconds, much to her friend's relief. Lucien only thought it was extremely amusing and had winked at the girl before leaving. The girl wasn't anything special to Lucien, in fact, that day he had felt rather generous and had flirted with girls, including the fainting one, that he would never have usually been seen around. His father had sent him a letter saying that he had bought Lucien a new broom that day.

He almost did smile right then at the memory of the stupid girl but subconsciously resisted it. Actually, sudden thoughts of the girl in front of him began to plague his mind. He wasn't sure why he wanted her to retort something back to him. He had always known he had an effect on her, that he had in some way charmed her like all the other girls, and felt very much happy about this. Usually, he wouldn't have sauntered over to any girl just to talk to her or, in this case, annoy her. Lucien knew that all he and Desiree did was often just snap insults at each other or play the flirting game that he always won. It was the only sort of communication he had with her and he wouldn't let go of that fact. He had no other ways of talking to her anyway. Any other way would feel uncomfortable for him and he would never admit to himself that he was actually a little scared of talking to her normally in front of everyone.

Wait. Stop right there.

What was he thinking? He was thinking like he liked her. Like she was somehow special. Where did he come up with this stuff? Why did he want to talk to her all the time? Once again, his mind was going crazy just like that time he had versed her on the Quidditch field. He had been thinking strangely and was furious at himself too. These thoughts were back again but he wouldn't admit that this wasn't the first time he had thought of her. Lucien didn't know what to do. He was confused for the first time in his life and it was all her fault. Yes, it was her fault, not his. Because he was superior than her, far better. He just had to stick to that fact and he would stop thinking like a lunatic. The Ravenclaw prefect frowned now, at the same moment she told him he owed her a few knuts for the coffee. To her, the frown was probably a natural response to her words. However, he was incredibly furious at her now, having just decided that it was all her fault that he was thinking and behaving so strangely.

He didn't hear her second comment about the fact he hadn't changed. Lucien didn't know this but he had definitely gotten a few inches taller and was much more broad-shouldered as well. He knew that he had gotten stronger as well, with better muscles than before, however. He was much too angry at her, his thoughts reeling at what he could do to stop his foolishness. As she bent to retrieve her wand, he looked at her curiously for a second, wondering why she even cared that he was wet. Also, why hadn't she shouted at him? This thought was even more troubling than he had thought it would be. She was supposed to angrily say something back and then he was supposed to say something cheeky back to her to get her even more angry. That was how things went. So why wasn't she angry?!

Lucien frowned again as she attempted to dry his clothes. He did feel the clothes dry off a bit, but they were still cool against his skin. The only thing that wasn't dry anymore was his hair and, at a last attempt to bring forth her anger, he shook his blond hair, sending drops of watter flying in all directions. He was pleased that a lot of it flew at Desiree and smiled a little too. If he wasn't returning retorts to Desiree, he didn't know how to act around her. He didn't let her know that of course. "There. Now I feel much better," he said, grinning radiantly, showing off his perfect white teeth. "Where did you learn that spell? A first year student?" he teased fiendishly, the grin still on his face. This was his desperate attempt to get her angry. He didn't feel comfortable knowing she felt at ease with his remarks. It was all too much for him. Lucien was someone that didn't really take well to change.

Of course, if Lucien hadn't been angry, he would have realized that he had hit her hard with his last brash remarks. He would have probably not even said something like that so bluntly to her even. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that, however much Desirée tried to fool him and hide the truth, that she was not really as smart or intelligent as she tried to portray herself. He wasn't sure why she had even tried to engage a silent battle of the smarts with him. To others, he knew that he was probably seen as a smart ass, rich kid and not many people tried to tell him otherwise, but she had. She had blindly decided to try and beat him at his own game with no success and without knowing his full potential. He always couldn't help thinking that she wasn't necessarily stupid overall but was still incredibly stupid for trying to be something she wasn't. He knew she just wanted to be seen differently but this was what annoyed him about her: the fact that she tried so hard to be someone else. Lucien really never held back parts of his personality. He was himself and nobody could change him.

Until, possible, maybe, now.

The Ravenclaw was satisfied with her cry of outrage and breathed out a sigh of relief that he hadn't known he was holding back. He sat more comfortably in his chair, very glad that he had finally gotten her angry. His anger pushed to the side, he realized suddenly that she was not at her full anger mode just yet. He ran a hand through his damp hair for a second rather subconsciously as he watched her take a sharp intake of breath. His own smug smile slowly faded away, wondering what had shocked her so much. This was when his anger towards her really left him and he began to think a little more clearly now, suddenly realizing what he had said a little earlier that definitely would have deserved an intake of breath in her part. He had commented on her lack of knowledge.

Lucien really hadn't meant to. He had just been angry. Lucien in anger mode was not always a very good thing. He often said things he usually would never have dared say aloud, like maybe somethings about his training techniques or the fact that his sister meant more to him than anyone would ever have thought. The snide comment had really just been blurted out without any thought and, for some unknown reason that Lucien was very much frustrated about, he wanted to take it back. It was obvious to him during the time they had known each other that intelligence was a sensitive topic with her. Before, he had always commented on her lack of knowledge but these days he had suddenly refrained from doing so when he was teasing her for a reason unknown to him. This unknown reason was bothering him so much that he had gotten mad at her earlier, thinking it was her fault. It was obviously his own fault. He was fairly certain that the Hufflepuff before him had not charmed him into thinking he was mad. He knew she did not have that kind of magical ability. But he would never tell her that aloud.

His smile was gone now, replaced with a look of sudden uncertainty which was very quickly replaced by a shocked face when she began yelling at him. He waited for her to finish patiently, a slight pained look on his face now. He wasn't sure that he had wanted to still play the 'best' game anymore. In fact, he realized he had stopped a while ago. Hadn't she realized that? Hadn't she figured out that the only reason he was still pretending to play was to talk to her? No, of course she didn't know that. He had not let any hint of wanting to end the game that she disliked so much. Lucien did not know himself anymore. Why was this girl changing him so much? Why was she causing him to go mad? The Ravenclaw had never stopped playing his game with other girls like Desirée. Though there weren't many before her, naturally there were some that tried to resist his charms but he always won in the end. It was sad to think that the only way Lucien could feel comfortable talking to her was to anger her. She was truly the winner over him but he would never let her know that.

Once she finished, he bit his lower lip and sighed very quietly. "Actually, I've known that I was going to win the whole time. I always do," he said smugly but his voice wavered slightly as if it pained him to say those words to her. In truth, it sort of did. It was his last effort at trying to be comfortable talking to her. He realized he would have to be sensitive now. She was obviously tired and hurt, something that, for some reason again, he didn't like. He had always seen the confident, snappy Desirée but this version of her seemed like her very true self. Lucien had always secretly been rather awed by people that showed their vulnerable side, something he would never ever resort to if he could help it. He gulped, watching her carefully, and didn't say anything at all for a minute. His expression was immediately recognizable: deep pain. Though, the only reason he actually let this show because he knew she couldn't see his expressions with her hair draped over her face.

He reached over the table and gently lifted her face to him, his features soft for the first time in his life. He used his other hand to take away her hand from under her forehead then put it on the table. His one hand held her face very gently and he could see the anger there. It hurt him."You were supposed to insult me back, ma belle chère," he said quietly and stared at her for a few more seconds. Realization of what he had done hit him hard and he quickly pulled away with a panicked look on his face. He was obviously very shocked over what he had done. He had not thought over his actions and had acted on impulse, something that was rather dangerous and unheard of to the Ravenclaw prefect. Lucien shook his head, running both hands through his hair and slightly pulling on his blond strands. Lucien did not look at her, suddenly interested with the fingers of one of his hands that was drumming rapidly on the table with slight frustration. He was not sure why he hadn't left however he did utter one word.

"Shit."

There were millions of curses going through his head right then, both in French and English. All of them were directed toward himself, surprisingly enough. He had learned recently that it wasn't her fault. Maybe he was maturing or something but he had learned that it was indeed his fault. Still, it did not excuse what had just happened. He could not believe what he had done. The impulse - it was so scary. Lucien never acted on impulses. He always thought over everything he did or spoke before actually doing them. He had sort of trained himself this way. He couldn't even remember the last time he had acted on an impulse other than raising his hand immediately after a professor posed a question to the class. That was it. That was as far as he went when it came to acting on impulses. Lucien was a deep thinker and he figured that thinking before acting was the only impulse he actually had.

So, why had he acted like that before thinking? Why had he, with those words, almost hinted his affections toward this Hufflepuff girl whom he had only met last year? These were all troubling thoughts. At Beauxbatons, nothing like this had happened before. He had always been floating around the school, flirting with any and all of the girls that came by without a care in the world. He had never returned to the same girl a dozen times, like he did with Desiree. Never. It had pretty much been unheard of. He had been in complete control and he had loved it of course. He had never been drawn to a girl like he was to Desiree and what frustrated him was the fact that he didn't know what to make of this attraction.

A side of him said that this attraction was dangerous, could ruin his reputation and what not. Another side of him said that he should let loose a little and try to enjoy it. He didn't know which side to listen to and therefore he had just continued on with the game they had been playing for so long in hopes that his attraction toward her would wear off sooner or later. It never did, which in turn frustrated him as well. He didn't know what to do with her: insult her or kiss her. He knew he needed some help but he would never dare ask for any. Lucien had vowed never to stoop so low as to ask for someone's help. That would definitely ruin his reputation. He was supposed to be the genius, the one who knew everything. How would asking someone for help with a girl be good for him?

The Ravenclaw said nothing but continued to stare at the table, having stopped drumming the table with his fingers, a frown deep on his face. He should leave. Why wasn't he leaving? His rational side screamed at him to leave, but there was a part of him wanting to know what she was going to say. Would she - dare he think it? - return his affections? He shouldn't be hopeful, after all, he had insulted her since the first time he had met her. He felt like pulling his hair off of his head, that was how frustrated he was with this situation. He hadn't seen her expression when he had held her face in his hand but had just stared straight into her eyes. He was suddenly disgusted with himself. How could he have showed a softer side to her? Why had he done it? What had happened to thinking before acting?

As she began to speak, he immediately looked up and listened to her words with a neutral expression. He did not know why he was delighted to see that she had obviously been deeply affected by his stunt and he did not believe a single word she said as she tried to insult him back. He smiled slightly, almost thankfully, as she finished speaking, or shouting actually. He felt his breath get caught in his throat, much to his annoyance, when he took in everything she had said and everything she had not. The result was a very happy Lucien. In truth, his eyes began to twinkle as he watched her and he looked very much amused. He was suddenly very glad she hadn't made fun of him or something. That would have hurt him as much as he didn't want it to affect him at all. He said nothing for a few seconds then leaned forward, his hands clutched together in a ball on the table as he smiled.

"Well, that was most insulting," he teased her, arching a brow in clear amusement. "I wonder, however, my half-blood half-French friend, who is clearly only half as good as everything as me, if you could enlighten me as to how I can make you hate me again so I'll know what to do with you?" he asked sarcastically, having thankfully returned to his normal annoying self.

[ooc: <33 ]

Now that he thought over his words a little more, he realized that he was hinting something he hadn't thought of before he had spoken. Or maybe he had, but was denying it? What had happened? Hadn't he told himself that he wouldn't let him talk on impulse moments before? He sighed mentally at this thought. He couldn't control himself as much as he had been able to before. And it was pretty much Desirée's fault at the moment. Yes, he could at least blame her for something. This automatically made him feel a little better at their situation. He often did blame others for things and he was just glad he could fairly blame the fact that he was acting on impulses on Desirée. Well, he only thought it was fair enough. She was too interesting for him and something about her caused him to lose control which, quite obviously, frustrated him even more. What was he to do now? Something had to be done. He couldn't go on living like this, he wouldn't be able to bear it.

Lucien was completely lost and did not know what to do right then. The Ravenclaw figured there was a side of him that had spoken so seductively, as he saw it, for a reason that he was too afraid to admit. Oh Lord, now he was afraid of something. He was never afraid of anything, nothing intimidated him ever in his life. Much less himself. He couldn't be afraid of himself, it was completely absurd. Who had ever heard of that? Well, actually, he could recall some people that could be afraid of themselves, but this never happened to him. He knew he was too afraid to find out what all these strange things pointed to. It was uncomfortable for him and he hated being in that sort of situation. Nobody could tell what he was thinking from his calm, cocky demeanor and he preferred it this way. It was such a relief to know that he was so good at hiding his true emotions otherwise he would have been too embarrassed to face her with all these thoughts in his head.

He would have gotten angry if he knew she thought this situation was funny to her. In truth, he couldn't disagree with her more. It was all agonizing and completely strange to him. He returned her smirk, guessing at her feelings that she was finding this amusing, with a dark, slightly strained smile of his own. She wasn't taking this situation as seriously as he was, he gathered. It made him a little more frustrated. He was surprised he hadn't exploded into a million pieces from all the frustration he was feeling. It was really clouding his thoughts which wasn't good. He tried to calm himself as she spoke some more, something about being more than half as good as he was at everything. Now, this was certainly amusing to the troubled Ravenclaw and brought him back to his senses immediately as he grinned at her. He wouldn't tell her he didn't agree with her but figured his amused smile would do the explaining for him.

He leaned back, realizing he truly was speechless which made him feel even more uncomfortable. It was a wonder why he wasn't shifting around in his seat like other people might have done. He couldn't stand this any longer. Even though he had smiled and had been amused for a second, it hadn't lasted long. His thoughts pushed back into the front of his mind and he realized he needed to think things through now. He sighed and, leaning back on his chair, ran his hands through his hair again, his eyes resting on the ceiling for a few moments. With a start, he stood up from his chair, grabbing his bag as he got up. Lucien rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a few knuts. He took her hand gently, shoved the knuts in her palm and closed her hand slowly into a fist. They were for the coffee he had taken from her. Letting go of her hand, he turned to her with a weak smile. "Well, ma chère, let me know when you think of anything I can do so we can hate each other once more," he teased her, signaling the fact that he was going to take his leave. He shouldered the bag and turned around, headed toward the Ravenclaw Tower. His steps were deliberately slow for some reason, though he wasn't aware of it.

What had just happened? Did he really just repay her for the coffee? Lucien did not do that normally. He would have just taken the coffee and never have paid for it at all. Maybe if he had been at one of his mother's dinner parties he would have paid for the coffee only because he wanted to be gentlemen to the other sophisticated ladies in the room and to make his parents proud of course. Otherwise, he knew he wouldn't have paid someone back for anything as valueless as coffee. He almost flinched as a sudden, frightening thought entered his mind. No. No. That was impossible. He had never thought of someone like that. Lucien was always taught never to think like that. However, here he was, realizing that he had just done something he would probably never forgive himself if she failed him. He must be crazy. Insane even.

He had just realized he had subconsciously labeled Desirée as equal to those very same sophisticated, rich ladies in his mother's dinner parties. In other words, by repaying her, he had suddenly begun to treat her as if she were his equal in society. As if she too were rich. His equal. It was frightening to even think of such a thing. How could he have lost so much control over himself? How? It was simply not possible. Lucien had thought maybe his control had only slipped a little bit but he realized it had completely vanished in her presence. But why her? He was even more confused than before. The whole situation was mind-boggling. Never in his life had he let someone inferior to his social status be his equal. In fact, he was taught never to do that at all. His father made sure of teaching him that. And he had been so sure he would never come to think of anyone in that way even though his father had said it might be difficult. At the time, as a young boy, he had thought it was very easy. Now he understood what his father meant.

He really just needed to sort out his thoughts and regain control of his emotions and thoughts once again. He was a complete mess without that control. However, his thoughts kept trailing back to how he had acted in front of her. He had been entirely different than his usual self and he had seen the surprise in the Hufflepuff's eyes. He couldn't blame her. Lucien was even surprised at himself. He couldn't help calling himself stupid for acting so tender toward her. With that action, he was certain she realized he did care for her, however, he hadn't even been aware of his feelings before he had been so kind. He must be tired from Quidditch. Maybe that was what had caused him to behave so strangely in front of her. Lucien did not want to admit that when she had sounded so defeated, he had automatically felt like cheering her up. He wouldn't admit it ever.

As he was walking away, he realized that he would rather have stayed there with her. However much he wanted some time to regain his control again, there was a part of him that wanted to stay with Desirée. He couldn't shake away these thoughts as much as he wanted to. As much as he begged himself to forget her. He knew that the smart thing to do was to sit down on his bed and think rationally. He couldn't do that sitting in front of her of course. She had suddenly become an unwanted distraction. What was wrong with him? Why were these things happening now? Lucien sighed. Yes, the smart thing was definitely to sort out his thoughts on his own but she was pulling him back to her as if he were tied to a rope that she was pulling. Oh if only she could just let go of that rope so he could be free and normal again.

However, he didn't get his wish as she tried to stop him. He groaned quietly as he heard the scraping of a chair against the floor and her footsteps coming closer. Lucien stopped in his tracks, very much surprised at Desirée's actions. Usually, she would have rejoiced at him leaving her alone. What was going on? Was she just as much confused as he was? The Ravenclaw stiffened as she took a hold of his sleeve and turned around to face her. He did not care for anyone touching him and it was good that she let go so fast. However, he was not sure why she had stopped him anyway. He had made it clear that he was leaving but she had stopped him. Why was that? A sudden solution came to his mind but he quickly thrust the heart-pounding idea away from his mind.

He listened, his eyebrow arched in surprise as she spoke. What was she saying? Why was she listing her failures to him? Lucien knew she would not have done that. She had always tried to beat him and would never have stooped so low as to actually tell him that she was a wannabe and that he was better at Quidditch. He lay his broom against the wall and crossed his muscled arms against his chest, regarding her with a curious face. She had been speaking so fast as if she were in a hurry. But why? A sudden thought popped into his head. She wanted him to stay? That was new. And thrilling, he admitted to himself. He smiled very slightly at this thought and wondered how he should respond. He was still very much confused about his emotions and his thoughts were as jumbled as ever. "Yes actually there is," he finally replied to her question. He paused here and leaned in closer to her, twirling a strand of her hair idly. He stopped, suddenly realizing what he was doing, and crossed his arms against his chest once more. "For some reason, you aren't letting me leave. And though this does frustrate me, I think it has something more to do with myself than you actually doing anything," he answered truthfully with a wink and leaned back to stand at his normal height.

It was just like Lucien to hold back his thoughts and feelings. This whole time he was acting like this was totally normal for him when it actually wasn't. He dared not show that he was uncomfortable in this sort of situation. It would mean showing a weakness that he did not want anyone to know about. The Ravenclaw was pretending that everything was fine and making it seem like his mind actually wasn't reeling with strange and unfamiliar thoughts. Forbidden thoughts. He didn't want to be around if his father ever found out what he was thinking. The man would be disappointed with his son, Lucien was sure. He might even seem like a traitor in his father's eyes. After all, these thoughts went against some of the things his father had taught him. Maybe he was putting on a show to fool her but he realized that if he kept this up, maybe his mind would eventually believe it too. However, it would probably take a while for him to believe a lie he had made up himself. Therefore, he might have to stand there with her for a little while longer in order to try and fool himself.

However, the boy wasn't sure if that was even a good idea actually. He knew he needed some time on his own to think properly. Lying to yourself was a weak choice. But he was practically desperate now. He really didn't know what was happening and couldn't tell what was going to happen which did not go well with Lucien. Usually, he would at least be able to interpret what might happen but at the moment, he was pretty much clueless. And Lucien was never ever clueless in any situation. Usually, he was never at a loss for words. Usually, he would be able to confidently make a choice and expect to have great results as well. However, things were just not working in his favour for once and he was losing it as a result of that. It was starting to feel like he was losing his grip on everything he had always known. But how could this happen to him? And why did Desirée have to confuse everything? Why was it that he was questioning everything because of this one girl that stood before him? Hogwarts was mad and the people in it were even crazier. At Beauxbatons, this would never have happened. Never. He would never have allowed it. He was more at home at Beauxbatons anyway and he put the blame on this uncomfortable situation on Hogwarts. Somehow, the school was at fault here. He wasn't thinking too well to give a reason for that even if there was one.

All of this was starting to bother him even more now. It was getting harder and harder to think straight and keep up this relaxed appearance to fool her. His thoughts were constantly trying to become his main focus but, at the same, he was pushing them as far away from the front of his mind as possible. His top priority right now was to hold up this calm, fake comfortable look which was, surprisingly, getting a bit difficult now but he never wavered. If Lucien had been a little more observant, he might have noticed her panicked state, how she was holding her breath because of him or how she had looked so sad before having lost her breath. However, he didn't have much strength to be observant at that moment as he needed all of it to make his fake casual appearance as believable as possible. Maybe if he had noticed these things, he might have found it rather amusing and would probably plunge into another plethora of questions in his mind.

The thing was, if he let go of the mask he was putting up for her, he would reveal one of his weaknesses. And Lucien never told or showed anyone his weaknesses no matter who they were. That was one of the things he was taught by his father and he would not give up on it. It was one of the only sane and comfortable things he had left at that moment. The weaknesses that he dared not show was his uncomfortableness in this situation. He was never comfortable when it came to change. It took a while for him to adjust to new things even though it may have looked like it had been easy for him when he had moved to England. But on the inside, it had taken him awhile like any other boy. However, of course he would never admit that to anyone. He let them all think it was easy for him but in truth, he had never liked change in his life. It always made him feel vulnerable and very, very weak which were feelings he hated the most.

He was still watching her, the same smirk on his face, as she finally began speaking. She wasn't babbling this time which sort of disappointed him because he liked it when girls went tongue-tied around him. It was another familiar thing he was used to and was craving at that moment. He needed familiar things to keep sane. He still couldn't believe he had twirled her hair. Where the hell had that come from? Was he going more insane with each passing second? Of course, he regretted the action and was slightly repulsed by it as well. How could he just do that without thinking? It had been a stupid impulse that he wished he could take back right now but he was sane enough for now to realize he couldn't. Lucien would have to somehow make her forget about it then. That was the only way he could regain some dignity. The wink had been a sort of natural Lucien move. He did that to almost all the girls in the school. However, for once, he realized he had actually meant it. Though he wasn't sure what he was trying to make her understand. He couldn't even understand what was going on with him, even.

He did notice the fact that her voice had become so quiet and frowned, concerned, for a brief second. She looked so small and innocent right then, he had the impulse to pull her into his arms. She seemed unsure about something but Lucien couldn't figure out what. The small rational part of his mind told him that her words were his cue to leave but for some reason, the way she just stood there so angelic and pure, only pulled him in closer to her. She must have been something important to him if she was able to do that without making him too angry. He smirked, leaned in a little closer to her and stayed that way for a second before speaking. "What would you like me to do, ma chérie?" he whispered seductively and returned back to his normal posture. He wasn't sure why he was even able to flirt with her with the state he was in. Where had the strength come from? The will to do so? Here he was, flirting with her, when his mind was a complete mess.