𝙁𝙀𝙀𝙇 𝙈𝙔 𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍 | Lookism x reader

2. Showing dominance

When Eli finds himself returning to the classroom after a bathroom break, he manages to find the room in disrepair. It's to his annoyance, as the 'leader' and most adored of the class, that he has to charge in and get to the bottom of this issue; looking at the crowd, part of him almost doesn't want to speak. He's barely left for 5 minutes, and this is whats happened? Eli doesn't even know what to think.

Frightened silent girls stand in the corners, hands over their mouths; desks and chairs smashed on the floor. Random bits of stationary roll around in an agonised manor, single sheets of paper circle a pack of students like a flock of wounded doves, and he sees you- the new transfer student- sitting on a fallen desk, seemingly above it all.

You hold a black pen in one hand, and the crying face of a student in another.

Eli immediately rushes in, slapping the pen out of your hand in one wide motion and releasing the girl. The pen rattles on the floor, pulling the attention of all, and with a strong glare and an even stronger stance, he silently dares you to make another move.

Against his insurgence you, surprisingly, smile. It comes in wide- the corners mimicking a scythes edge- and where the thick red part of your lips shine they reveal to be as cold and desolate as the iron surface of Mars. Though Eli is no alien to this expression, so he lets it pass through him. He reveals an expressionate world of his own; a pale coolness to contrast your planet of mineral dust.

He meets you straight in the eyes. Your hands slowly snake to touch the desk but Eli pays no attention to this, and stares even deeper, past clouds and hardened bedrock. Where the pupil and iris separate within your eyes is a question that Eli understands will remain unsolved for now and the unforeseeable future, but from the distance he meagrely notes that you have eyes the same colour as obsidian crystals and black plasticine gutters. They hide behind a mooning crescent, meeting your blade of quiet ridicule in no mans land.

It's a smile of cruel enjoyment- like the sea which calls to sailors, having them meet the eye of a hurricane- letting Eli know that his interruption is one which you've gracefully allowed. Do you really have the skill to back up all your arrogance? He watches as you slowly cross your legs- another sign, which shows that you'll allow him to do what he wants with no involvement- and he decides that he has had enough. There's no point in focusing on you- you have made it clear that you won't carry on anymore- and so he tears off his stare, focusing downward, where grave lines settle onto his gorgeous face.

It's Hana Cho and her little gang of misdemeanours, he notes, counting five familiar students. Hana Cho herself has found a refuge buried in his embrace; she desperately nuzzles her face into his thigh, and Eli can feel a headache coming on. Letting her do as she pleases (he can't really find the heart to stop her), he falls down to meet the other crying girls, leaning all his weight on one foot as he bends down and they flock to him too. Hana takes this to her advantage and latches onto Eli's waist, pulling him into a suffocating scream. As he defends, the rest come in fighting.

Under bangs and colourless tears, Eli can see that they have all been marked by this confrontation. Not only are they all blushed- red and pink with scratches, anger and congestion- but also with the crude little ink drawings dotted all around. He notes of the distasteful doodles of a moustache on one girl and a pair of shaky eccentric glasses on another, all drawn with the artistic grace of a preschooler. One girl sports a star on each cheek- something rather darling if it weren't for all the strange irregularities and misshapen forms. All sob as he gazes at their misery. Black ink.