do you really think you're perfect ? | blade [hsr]

...even after losing?

Biochemistry was a pain in your ass.

Specifically, a certain someone who happened to be the exact same major, taking the exact same classes as you. The subject itself wasn't what pissed you off: it was Blade. 

The afternoon after your hangover, you walked across campus to the Qlipoth Hall of Sciences, where most of your lectures took place. Your head was still lightly pounding, but with a few headache medications, you were set to go. 

You felt better, not just physically, but overall, you just felt better. Better than after the breakup, hell, even better than before you'd met Jing Yuan. You felt free. It was kind of perfect. At least, that's what you thought until you walked into the lecture hall, gaze immediately settling on Blade. 

You were lucky he hadn't seen you - you took your seat a couple behind him, glaring daggers straight through the back of his head. The class was smaller than normal, so the hall was relatively empty - you really could've sat anywhere else. But this spot was your spot. Right side, six rows back. It gave you a good view of both the board, and your professor. Blade knew it was your spot - he was definitely trying to provoke you.

Thankfully, you held your anger in, although being pissed the minute you walked into class wasn't ideal, considering you had another two and a half hours to spend in such a close vicinity to him. 

Your thoughts wander back to your first interaction with Blade. He was quiet, only really talking to Jing Yuan. You were nervous approaching him, thinking he'd wave you off. Which he did, and you didn't mind. Until one day, you came upon Blade trying to convince Jing Yuan that you "weren't worth dating". And from that moment on, you hated him with your whole being.

The professor greeted you all quickly, moving onto her lecture before anyone could respond to her "how is everyone today?" You had your computer out in front of you, an empty document open for note taking. 

Focusing today was difficult for two reasons. One: you were incredibly exhausted, and still slightly hungover. The taste of tequila burned in your throat no matter how much water you'd had. Two: Every other second, your mind wandered to Blade, and how much hatred you had for him. Maybe Jing Yuan would've stayed with you if Blade hadn't put those thoughts into his head?

Nope, he definitely would've left either way.

You've finally accepted the fact that the two of you would never work. Jing Yuan was just too popular. He'd find someone like him - pretty, popular, and absolutely no brains (which is obviously a diss at Jing Yuan). It was for the best that he left. 

"Hey." You snapped out of your thoughts as a whisper and a tap made you turn towards the sound. Stelle, a classmate of yours had scooted past you and into a seat next to you. "I just got here, what'd I miss?"

You shrugged. "Just Professor Ming's short explanation of enzymology. Nothing much. I'll send you whatever notes you need to fill in."

"Awesome." She grinned, pulling out a notebook and bento box, setting the latter in between the two of you. "March made unagi. Told me to say hello. She misses seeing you in French."

You laughed awkwardly, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up a piece of unagi. "Tell her hi, and that I'm glad I dropped. If I had to spend any more time with Professor Vu, I think I would've exploded. And you know how good I usually am with bad teachers."

Stelle nodded, shoving a tiny piece of food into her mouth and grabbing pencil, peering over my shoulder at the notes I'd taken beforehand, and messily scribbling them down in her book. "I'll say. March complains daily."

"And she has every right to." You hummed, staring back up at the board, where Professor Ming had just changed slides. The two of you went quiet as the professor continued her lecturing, pacing back and forth across the stage of the hall, rambling about how enzyme catalyst reactions are regulated, and other topics on enzymes.