That Would Be Enough~ Hamilza Oneshots

~Fight For Me {Modern AU}~

Trigger warning: Language

  When asked about their least favorite part of school, many kids would say the homework. Homework, P.E., waking up early... all common complaints about the educational system. But Eliza wouldn't say any of that. Hands down, her least favorite part about school was the hallways.

  Loud, crowded and busy, with people bumping into each other from all sides as they try to hurry to class or just run around causing chaos. Eliza had gotten used to hugging her books firmly at her chest, ducking her head, and weaving through the forest of teenagers as agilely as she could. Normally, she would slip by unnoticed, but she wasn't immune to the occasional run-in.

  "Hey, where you off to in such a hurry, baby?" bellowed Kurt Kelly as he quickly stepped in front of her one day. Eliza's breath caught in her throat. Her heart began to beat rapidly, like she was a bunny confronted with the jaws of a vicious dog. 

  Her body prickled over with goosebumps as she felt a hand touch her shoulder from behind. That could only be Kurt's buddy, Ram Sweeney. 

  "My buddy Kurt just asked you a question," Ram said.

  Eliza kept her head down. These two were the stars of the football team, and they liked to torture all the girls in Yorktown High. Eliza wanted no part in their games. 

  "I-I'm just trying to get to class," she managed to stutter.

  Kurt pretended to look surprised by this. "Oh, you're off to class? Did you hear that, Ram? She's tryin' to get to class!" he bellowed. Ram just chuckled. He would laugh at anything Kurt said, really. Sometimes Eliza wondered if Ram could even understand Kurt or if he was just trained to echo or laugh Kurt's every sentence.  

  Without warning, Eliza's books were yanked out of her hands. She tried to get them back, but Kurt held them high above her head. "C'mon, you never skip class once in your life? It's a lot more fun than books," he growled with a smirk. His voice was as soft as thunder. 

  Eliza could feel an arm snake around her waist, and every hair on her arms stuck straight out, electrified with nerves. Trapped in a meathead sandwich, she had nowhere to go. 

  "Hey!"

  There was a voice to the left of her. It was one she didn't recognize, but it spiked through the din of the hallway and caused the three of them to look for the source. Standing there was a boy in a trench coat, his brown hair tied back in a ponytail. In his hand was a little red book. Eliza had never seen him around school before; he must be a new student. Eliza noticed how his blue eyes stuck out against his pallid face and dark clothing. They were livid and sparking with intensity, like two indigo storms. 

  Kurt scoffed, amused at the sight of the boy. "Just keep walking. Find your own bitch."

  Eliza felt her face flush over at the name he had called her, but the boy didn't move. "Let her go," he snarled. 

  In unison, Kurt and Ram burst out laughing. It was true that he wasn't very intimidating. The boy at least a few inches shorter than them, and he had gangly arms that hung lifelessly at his sides. He certainly wasn't running drills with Kurt and Ram everyday. 

  "Hey, Kurt, doesn't this school have a no bastards allowed rule?" inquired Ram with a sneer. 

  The boy's expression remained unfazed, but Eliza saw him grip the book tighter. "Seems to have an open door policy for assholes, though." 

  That did it. Eliza felt herself slam into the lockers as Kurt threw her aside, and he and Ram rounded on the mystery boy. In that moment, all other activity in the hallway came to a stop. Soon, a crowd had formed on either side of the brawl, screaming, panicking and cheering.

  Eliza couldn't move. She wanted to use the distraction as a chance to fish her books off the ground and run away, but she found herself frozen in her steps. That boy was going to die, she figured, and she couldn't bring herself to leave him. But to her amazement, he was carrying himself pretty well. He ducked and dodged their blows and would strike when they were unguarded. 

  This boy had saved her, and she didn't even know his name. She couldn't process why a stranger would go out of his way to protect her like that. She wasn't anyone special, and, if she was being honest with herself, he was the kind of person she would typically avoid. She wasn't looking for trouble, and he looked like he was full of it. But today, she could feel her heart soar at the sight of him.

  Every time the boy took a hit, she winced like she had been stricken as well. Whenever he was hit, the crowd would cheer, and Eliza felt her chest burn with indignation. But he didn't back down; he returned as many punches as he could, scrappy and resilient. Eliza hadn't realized she was holding her breath until she saw something red slide across the floor and land at her feet. It was his book. Taking her eyes off of him for the first time since he showed up, Eliza bent down and picked the book up, delicately fingering the worn cover. It was clearly a well-loved book, given the battle scars it possessed. 

  Eliza held the book to her chest, returned her eyes to the battle, and quickly inhaled with delight at what she saw. The no-name-boy was still alive, and more than that, he was winning. A sucker punch for Kurt, a stab in the ribs for Ram, and a nasty headbutt for Kurt when he still didn't give up; if this boy was willing to fight for her, perhaps he would be willing to sit and talk to her, too. They could discuss their favorite books together. If he was willing to let the whole school watch as he struggled to protect her, maybe he could walk through the hallways at her side without shame as well. She didn't care what anybody else thought if he didn't. Eliza had never met a guy like this one before, and suddenly she was ready to do anything to protect him. 

  She couldn't run away now. She had to return this boy's book. She wanted to learn his name and thank him for saving her. She wanted to know where he came from, what his interests were, and... if he wanted to go out sometime. 

  If he was willing to fight for her, she wanted to fight for him, too.