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<span style='font-size:12pt;line-height:100%'>There was something about her that threw him off every damn time he was in her presence, but perhaps that was what had drawn him to her in the first place - other than their collision, of course. Abraxas had always considered himself to be more of a loner type who was sociable only to further his stature in the house, but he supposed that wasn't entirely true, especially where she was concerned. He always seemed to be seeking her out for some reason or another, and then end up pestering her just because it seemed like the most appealing option at the time. Abraxas couldn't always explain his motives - sometimes they were far too complicated even for himself to understand, but they were still there. He did things, it was just ninety-nine percent of the time he did them he had no idea why. For instance, the time where she had been in her third year and he had stumbled upon her out by the lake and kissed her. Granted, that time he had basically collided into her for accidental purposes, but still. Accidents still counted as something that was unexplained and therefore uncontrollable, yes? And he technically hadn't pulled back right away when they had first kissed, so that had to mean something as far as questionable behavior went. Because it was questionable, of course. Or so he told himself over and over. It was getting rather repetitive, come to think on it.
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The kiss back then? It was probably the true reason he saw it fit to pester and pursue her. Technically she had been his first kiss. It hadn't been a very bad kiss, either. If he remembered correctly, her lips had been nice and soft, and it hadn't been filthy and sloppy like some of the other kisses he had experienced. She had also given in to his touch with enough ease at the time, but Abraxas supposed that had only been because she had been caught off guard for several seconds. He was fairly certain she had kissed him back, and that she had nearly thrust her arms around his neck, but before anything major could happen he had started back away from her, his cheeks tinged and a burning embarrassment making him snap and lash out at her before he had stomped off, not bothering to stop and think that maybe she had liked it too. His pride had overshadowed his thinking, yet again, and he had inadvertently screwed up what could've been a perfectly enjoyable next few months with her.
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After the kiss, the only thing Abraxas had felt was disappointment, but most of it had been directed towards himself. Half of himself wished he would've stayed and convinced her that he was worth the shot - but the other half had been far too chagrined to let something of that nature occur. So, he had decided to sit around in his dormitory and sulk for a while, scowling up at the canopy of his bed and grumbling under his breath. It was likely right then that Abraxas decided he was going to torment her for his own leisure. Besides, what better way was there to get back at the girl who had embarrassed him than to do something of that nature? Or, at least that's what Abraxas convinced himself the reason behind his future teasings and tauntings would be. The real reason was that he was trying to cover up his mild fondness that had sprung up for her (and all over a simple kiss too - he had gone so far with quite a few girls over the years, and yet he still remembered the taste of Constance's lips, and the feel, and - ), because no one could know about that. Not even himself. Realization and acceptance were most certainly not two things Abraxas cared to deal with.
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Oh, and now she had to bring up the tutoring. Abraxas felt himself scowl at her, his temper flaring again. Just because he wasn't a master at charms didn't mean he was any less of a wizard - they were just difficult for him. He wasn't the type to enjoy protective qualities or lighter spells. They held no true value to him. Personally, Abraxas felt himself more drawn to hexes and curses - those he could master in no time flat. They were all simple for him, whether they be full of dark magic or not. "Just because I'm not as so very talented as you are in charms doesn't mean I'm thick or incompetent," Abraxas hissed, his jaw clenching. If there was one thing in the world he hated more than feeling embarrassed, it was when he felt stupid. It was a belief that had been instilled in him since he had been a small child, and it was something that wouldn't vanish now - nor would it ever. Abraxas saw stupidity as a clear weakness, and it had taken himself ages to comprehend and accept the fact that just because he wasn't exceptionally skilled in charms didn't mean he was a horrible wizard. "You don't have to flaunt the fact I asked you for help at every turn, you know." But she had a right to - and that, out of anything else, was what hurt his pride and made him the angriest the very most.
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Just because he had asked her for help, it didn't give her the right to - alright, yes it did. Abraxas had wrestled with that for years now. She had tutored him upon his request, nothing more. Which essentially meant that she was free to rub it in his face, and he couldn't do much about it in terms of a type of rebuke. However, he did have perfectly free reign to hex and or curse her - but if he took that route, of course, she would fire one right back. Plus, Abraxas didn't particularly fancy waking up one day to find his dick floating in midair and not attached to his body. Constance concerned him quite a bit on that measure - she was unpredictable. As much as it was alluring, it was also something that made Abraxas take a few steps back and have more of a desire to observe her from a further away standpoint. There was a part of Abraxas - the predominant part that included much of his pride - that constantly wished that back then he would've just kept his predicament to himself, perhaps even asked the teacher for help directly. At least the professor wouldn't have held it over his head at any given chance, whereas with a student, that was a perfect opportunity. Nonetheless, that hadn't happened. He had talked to Constance and asked her for help, and now he had to deal with the consequences of the decision. Not that he minded them, most of the time. It wasn't generally that bad, but sometimes (like now, for instance) her words grated on his nerves and made him regret asking her for help.
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Abraxas mentally shook himself, basically just in time to watch her crinkle her nose at him. He rather liked it when she did that - it was adora - bugger. Focus on her snarky comments, he told himself, a slight frown appearing on his features. Just the thought of her snark was aggravating in and of itself. And, lo and behold, not two seconds after she had crinkled her nose in that...interesting way, she was snapping at him. "My sincerest apologies, Constance," he drawled, the tone slathered in a heavy dose of sarcasm, "Does the princess require anything more?" She was frustrating, maddening, and incorrigible. He didn't like her at all, not a bit. Yes, her mannerisms were mildly adorable and occasionally tantalizing, but it held no importance. He couldn't allow himself to succumb and focus on silly things such as that, especially if he wanted to let her know that he thought she was lower than the scum on his shoe. Yes, it might've been a boldfaced lie, but...she didn't need to know that for the moment, did she? He didn't think she did. Perhaps.
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And now she had the absolute audacity to call him a manwhore? That woman was the insufferable epitome of the word rude. His eyes narrowed at the back of her head, and a sneer twisted at his features almost instantly. She had no right to insult him, the bint. Abraxas growled under his breath, then reached out to grab her again when something smacked against his backside. Abraxas whipped around and stared at the tree branch, the connection making his eye twitch in annoyance and his body turn back to her. Oh, and she had called him immature? What was she supposed to call it when she went and smacked his back with a fucking tree branch? He didn't find that particularly impressive. Actually, he didn't find that impressive in the slightest. Abraxas growled, "You're a fucking hypocrite - an annoying little hypocrite. You always snap at me for immature shit, but there you go, doing something just as pointless and childish. And the most amusing part is the fact that you always call me a hypocrite - you're just as bad as I am, Rowle. Have you realized that?"
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Was that really the reason she was so angry? Because he had insulted her appearance? Did she honestly think that he thought that? She was bloody gorgeous - perfect curves, beautiful eyes, full lips, toned body. There was nothing he could find on her physique that was flawed in an obvious way. Abraxas let out a huff of breath in disbelief, then shook his head and closed his eyes. She was ridiculous, this woman. "Do you honestly think I think that?" he muttered under his breath, about to turn her around and show her the difference when her next comment made his eyes snap to the back of her head. His temper spiked again, something that only she seemed to be able to do to him. He could go from perfectly content to pissed off in ten seconds or less. "You're the pathetic one," he snarled back, though he really had nothing to back up that statement. Abraxas didn't bother to comment again, but his fingers itched to swing her back around and snarl at her a bit more, because she most certainly deserved it for pissing him off like that. And insulting him - she didn't how to hold her tongue, this one. He sincerely wished she would just shut up for once and stop giving him reasons to sneer and snap at her so he could -
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The tears made something in his chest ache - it made his heart hurt a bit too. It made a guilty feeling well up in the pit of his stomach, because he knew that he had been the cause of them. And Abraxas also knew, just from her expression, that he hadn't angered her to the tears. She had been hurt somehow, but he had never been particularly capable at retracing his steps and figuring out where he had hurt her the most - hurting people was what he did. Picking out specific trigger-points was never something that he had been skilled at. "Perhaps I don't want to go away. You can't dictate what I do, no matter how much you'd like to," he murmured back, his quicksilver eyes scanning over her features several times. There was something about her expression, the way she was holding herself - he wanted to pull her in his arms. A part of him even wanted to apologize, Merlin forbid. It was something that was horrible to think about, but it was what he wanted to do. Abraxas wet his lips briefly, deciding that perhaps he would do the first bit soon enough - but the second? That would be...stretching it. Wouldn't it? His eyebrows pulled together just slightly as he debated, then his expression went carefully blank once more.
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Her voice cracking made something in him fracture, he was fairly certain. His eyes caught on her tears very briefly, but other than the motion of his thumb, he made no move to stop him. Her words were defensive, but it was entirely understandable - Abraxas wasn't the type to cry, but had he been in her position...she was vulnerable in front of him, and at the moment, he could make or break her. It was an odd feeling - it was a feeling he had experienced so many times in his life before, but then he had always held a careless attitude towards that experience. Now it felt like he was cradling a fragile piece of glass in his hand, and if he screwed up and dropped it, it would break - and this one couldn't break. "I don't want you to hate me," he finally murmured, the admittance of his own making him pause and search her eyes for something. He had no idea exactly what he was looking for, but the next second he had leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, one of his hands abandoning her tear-stained cheeks to wrap around her waist gently and pull her body closer to his. Abraxas kissed her slowly, tenderly. It was just to test the waters, in a mild way of speaking, but within a few seconds he applied more pressure and kissed her more thoroughly - the kiss was intended to convey everything his pride wouldn't let him admit in any uncertain terms. He couldn't tell her that he liked her, that he wanted her (and not merely in a sexual way), that he thought she was perfection, and that he had never wanted anything so bad in his life. She terrified him - but she only terrified him because she held his heart and he sincerely doubted she realized it.
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