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Crushcrush

"All right…" The man on the opposite side of the desk began tiredly; his index fingers resting on his temples, massaging them in slow, gentle circles. "So, tell me again why you thought it was a good idea to run around the school with your shirt off."

He was a hefty man, Mr. Sullivan. Hairline not entirely generous as it receded from his forehead almost as if it were frightened. His skin was pasty, almost always hinting with a gleam of sweat, and thick-rimmed glasses continuously fell from their rightful place along the bride of this nose. The demeanor he held hardly fit his position as principal of Shadydale High School.

And then there was Kisten.

"Is this mahogany?" The boy inquired, a bit absentmindedly, seeming dazed. Eyes peered out slightly from beneath the mess of his shaggy, auburn hair, inspecting the office for any changes since his visit no less then two days ago. He had no such luck.

"Why yes it's-"Mr. Sullivan paused, eyes narrowing at teenager before him. "Where are we at here, Kisten?"

"Maybe it's about time that you give up your attempts at prying me to find some deeper meaning to why I do what I do and realize that I genuinely don't give a-"

"Language!"

Kisten only smiled innocently.

"And sit up straight, and get that hair out of your face, boy! Hasn't anyone taught you how to act towards your superiors?"

"Beery, come on," He mocked, "I thought we were closer then that."

The principal only sighed, "Out"

"Gladly." Kisten obliged, hopping up readily from the stiff leather chair and making his way towards the door, his worn bag slung lazily over his shoulder.

"And Kisten," Mr. Sullivan called just as the boy had his thin frame partly through the ajar threshold.

"Hm?"

"One week detention, starting Monday." The smallest glimmer of a smirk resonated on the older man's features, if only for a moment.

"And yet another week of me not caring." Kisten replied, offering a sly wink, "Good day," before quickly slipping out of the door completely; a devilish smile never ceasing to grace his face.

-o-

The hallway was vacant. Its massive stone walling lined on either side with royal blue metal lockers; high ceilings masked with plastered dry wall. Doorways remained closed, containing the bubbling life within in, and not always seeming to do the most efficient job as the muffled voices reverberated lowly through the barriers, occasionally accompanied with the boasting shouts of their teacher.

It all seemed as if it were some strange out-of-tune melody to Kisten. The padding of his feet along the cement tiled flooring as it shinnied in the glory of its filth. The opening and closing of doors a hallway or two down; the sounds of the oncoming fall penetrating the blockade of the buildings few windows. Closing his eyes, he let himself become lost in the tranquil sonority of the school.

"…and over here you'll see your new class room, Mr.L'chelle. I hope you find that everything is to your liking." An overly perky voice proclaimed joyously, breaking the peace that once rested in throughout the massive corridor.

Entering the main hall was someone none other then, who Kisten knew to be, the office receptionist, Linda, or something like that. Her arm was outstretched as she gestured towards a room just across from where she was standing. Following quickly behind her was a rather unfamiliar figure.

He was all silken black hair and piercing emerald eyes. Slender silhouette marvelously defined by the pristine suit that tightly clung to every curve perfectly, completed with a pronounced fair complexion complemented by the satin violet fabric of his shirt. Kisten felt his heart lurch into his throat.

"We're so glad to have you." Linda continued her voice filling with relief.

"I am happy to be of service." The man's voice came out proper and stiff, like that of which you would expect an authority figure to possess. Each word that rolled off his tongue seemed tinted with a strange accent. He gave a slight smile, clearly his attempt to keep the mention of the pointlessness of this woman's tour to himself.

If more was conversed between the two, it was lost to Kisten, for the sudden obnoxious sounding of the bell filled his ears, drowning out whatever words were being spoken. The man had said something, to which Linda nodded and obliged, hurrying off as flood of bodies, feet, and voices poured out into the halls, seeming to swallow her petite figure.

Running a hand through his dark locks, the stranger gave a small sigh and opened the door to the classroom. He paused for a moment before entering; seeming to observe what was before him, eyes narrowed in judgment and the knowledge that he had plenty to do. Briefly before stepping through the threshold, he craned his head to examine the far stretching hallway. As he did, even amidst the countless faces rushing passed him, the dark emerald eyes met with Kisten's, their gazes locking,

The two remained like so only for mere seconds, although feeling so much longer to the boy, and just as the man began to turn away he flashed the red-headed teen a brilliant smirk.

"Move faggot!" A voice boomed from behind Kisten, shoving him harshly forward and breaking whatever trance he had been in. He gave a low growl, narrowing his eyes in anger that went unnoticed. A sinking feeling came over him as he raised his eyes back to where the odd stranger had once stood. He was gone.

Overwhelming him was a pang of childish vulnerability as he realized that he hadn't wanted the man to leave just yet. Standing amidst the moving crowd, he was struck dumbfounded by each brief moment that had occurred, withholding a shudder as the piercing emerald eyes flashed across his vision. Forever engraved in his memory.

"L'chellle…" He whispered to himself, gazing back at where the man had once stood once more before he allowed himself to become lost among the tightly packed bodies of students and teachers alike, without even the slightest intention of attending his next class.