Gold ➳ Lydia Martin

10; Tutor Needed

first and foremost i'd like to quickly thank @stickitstilinski for making the wonderful cover. I've been using it for a while but i haven't updated yet and i wanted to give her a dedication :)))

moue

noun | pronunciation - moo | meaning - a little grimace, a pout

10; Tutor Needed

Miles Argent tapped his foot fitfully as he sat outside of the guidance counselors office. He'd been told to take a seat and wait ten minutes ago and he'd since then grown more  and more restless with ever passing second. Yes, he'd once sat in an abandon house for five hours whilst on a hunt without a single qualm, but having a random old woman who was apparently supposed to be an authoritative figure to him made Miles suddenly the most impatient person on the planet. 

Miles looked over at the clock hanging in the small office, watched it hit the eleven minute mark, and then looked back at the door to the guidance counselors office and waited for it to open. It didn't. Miles slumped back into his seat and sighed. 

A new student entered the office, apparently also having a meeting with the Guidance Counselor. The secretary also told her to take a seat. By this time, Miles had been so involved at looking at a small speck he was realizing was stained on his shoes, he hadn't realized who it was until she sat down in the seat next to him. 

Lydia Martin, on the other hand, had noticed a bored-looking Miles Argent the moment she'd stepped into the office. She'd noticed him because under other circumstances she might've found it amusing how big he looked in the small waiting room chairs, his legs so outstretched they nearly took up the whole walkway. Lydia had noted a while ago that Miles was tall, dark, and handsome, the epitome of what her type was. Lydia had had limited interaction with him, but he clearly was the quiet type, and she'd enjoyed trying to get him to talk once. He'd seemed to be uncomfortable and perhaps even a little scared of the interaction, which was amusing to her since she was pretty sure he could've picked her up and thrown her across the room if he wanted to. 

With all that being said, Lydia however made no attempt to talk to Miles this morning. Any bemusement she found in badgering the mysterious Argent boy was long gone after having woken up in bloodied sheets and being forced to talk about her feelings to her guidance counselor. So instead, she sat there in silence, making no attempt to bat her purse her lips and try to get anything out of him, which was somewhat out of character for her. 

The pair both kept looking at the other out of the corner of their eyes, realizing they were looking at each other, and quickly looked a way if to pretend they hadn't just been doing so. This went on for another minute or so before each quickly looked away when they both realized they weren't being as slick as they'd hoped, leaving Miles to clear his throat uncomfortably and Lydia to ring her hands, which were covered in pink leather gloves to hide away her cut-up knuckles from the world. 

Miles had noticed rather quickly that Lydia was making no attempt to start a conversation, and he was trying his best to read her without making it completely obvious, which he'd failed at since he was sure she'd seen him glancing over at her. Miles had quickly looked away, but his mind was still churning for an answer. He wondered if Lydia felt awkward about their last interaction, which had been when he'd torn Jackson away from her and threatened him rather colorfully. Then he wondered if maybe she was mad at what he'd done. Miles tried to think of what he could've done differently, but he couldn't come up with anything else besides standing there and allowing the domestic violence to happen, which wasn't even an option for the hunter.