Dont Hate Me. {Student!Portgas D. Ace x Teacher!Reader}

Fifteen

Three weeks on the dot. New record? :)

—•—

Silence enveloped the room, engulfing you and the student before you. Only the muffled light chatter beyond the office walls was filtering into the room, albeit only as background noise. Crossing your arms against your chest, you looked past the blinds of the window into the athletic area. It was deserted, only the sun beating down on the painted track was present. "I..."

You flicked your gaze back to the student in your office, his mouth sliding shut as the words left him. "Why?" You whispered, staring directly into his eyes. He glanced away from you to look at the ground, his chest clenching at the hollow feeling of guilt swallowed him. "Why?" You repeated, louder.

"I just... well, Bonney looks pretty nice..." He mumbled, trailing off. You sighed and leaned back in your chair, staring up at the plain ceiling.

"Please remain silent for the next five minutes. You may leave ten minutes to the bell." You said, closing your eyes.

"[n-nam–," you cut him off.

"Portgas-san. Five minutes then you may leave. Please do not disturb me during your detention."

"B-But–," he fretted, holding the seat's armrest tightly.

"Is. That. Clear. Portgas?" You opened your eyes to stare at him, your [e.c] eyes shadowed by the lack of light.

"...Yes." He whispered, looking away from you. You sighed and blinked your eyes rapidly, the slight dust in the air making your eyes water.

Ace stood up from his seat and slung his bag on to his back. Opening the door, a thin line of yellow artificial light leaked into the room. He looked outside through the opaque square window of the entrance, seeing the muffled images of students walking across the hall. He closed his eyes and opened the door more, preparing to shut it behind him. Yet he couldn't help himself and looked towards you.

You were staring out the window again, your arms clutching each other tight against your chest. Hair slightly ruffled with thin strands sticking out of place. Ace's lips twitched upwards, a warmth scattering from his heart but the feeling was soon dowsed in an inevitable hollowness.

Guilt.

The downturn of your lips and the contemplating eyes that he was too used to seeing became the focus of his attention. He had seen it too many times. After he had abruptly cut you off or when he brushed you off like dirt on his clothes. The last time he saw it was on Tuesday, right after you walked in on him and Bonney. The devastation of the rejection you had felt was broadcasted clear on your face and he had seen it. Two seconds before the mask of anger and annoyance that usually followed was brought forward in your seething voice. He had gone too far. Hitherto his pride was too stubborn to apologise – to say he didn't like Bonney.

As soon as you realised that Ace had yet to leave, you turned your attention back to him. He didn't fail to see your expression change. It was too clear to him that you were hurting even with the curious glint in your eyes.

"[name]... I'm sorry." Ace mumbled, holding the door handle tightly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, and on impulse responded, "what?"

"I'm," he breathed in, clearing his mind. "I'm sorry."

"Ace," you whispered, truly touched by his apology. Ace was stubborn. He was filled to the brim with it and never failed to show you each day. To hear him apologise to you was something special.