#griffin is also a really great choice and maybe my mc will pursue

[angstymarshmallow]

Contrast (Beckett x MC)

[A little note: That Beckett scene still has me thinking and kind of inspired. While inspiration is here, here’s something light and fluffy that I wrote quickly with some early flirtation and light development].

[Words Counted: 1950]

The library is exceedingly quiet as Octavia pushes past its double doors. There’s a few floating books that require her attention and with a swift spell, she tickles their spine and tucks them under her arm. She settles in a spot near the back, although for the most part – it seems deserted, except for the short few she noticed on her way in.

She thinks its because it’s fall and most people are preparing to visit their relatives back home. It’s only a seldom few still finishing projects for the end of the semester and Octavia lets out a frustrated sigh as she stares meekly at hers’.

This is what she gets for starting her assignment last minute – truthfully, she can’t blame anyone but herself. 

Still, anything is better than staring at the list of spells she has to understand perfectly for her project to work. And after awhile, her mind wanders – past the notes spread hazardly in front of her, and even past the walls of the very library.

And before she knows it, her thoughts drift as they often do when she’s by herself. She uses her pen to trace idle sketches – small circles at first before they take shape. Before she realizes it, she can make out his familiar hair, framed around his face and studious bright eyes that gaze back at her. 

Beckett. 

Her hand freezes and she blinks down at the half drawing of him.

Ugh. Get him out of your head Brimstone, he doesn’t belong there - she tells herself sharply. But she can’t help it, she’s always been weak for people with pretty eyes. She traces idle hearts around his face until she hears a distinct clear of a throat.

The voice is so oddly familiar, so strangely close that she immediately glances up – not bothering to cover up her sketches before she meets the face of Beckett, in the flesh staring at her with half-curiosity reflecting inside his eyes.

“….Octavia?”

“Tavi,” she corrects automatically and then remembers the incriminating paper beneath her fingers. As his eyes drop to her hands, she hastily crushes the paper between her fingers – praying to the universe he hasn’t noticed. 

“Uh, h-hey Beckett.” Geez Tavi, be cool be cool. She’s going to have to scold herself later when she has the chance but right now, she refuses to make eye contact with him until he sits in front of her.

“What are you doing in the library?” He inclines his head at her, “to be honest out of everyone, I hadn’t expected seeing you here.”

She tries and fails to ignore the flicker of irritation at his words. She isn’t a bad student. She just has trouble following the rules sometimes. She tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “…I may have decided to finish an assignment last minute…” she trails off, noticing the quirk of his eyebrows and the eyeful of disapproval that comes along with it. “But in my defense,” she rambles on quickly, “our professor did say we have until the end of the semester.”

He sighs, “and naturally you decided to wait until the last possible moment.”

She grins at him. “Naturally.”

“I can’t even say I’m surprised,” he shakes his head; his bright eyes reflecting his disappointment. 

“Hey,” Octavia points a finger at him. “We can’t all be like you,” she rolls her eyes. “Mr. Studious, mr. can-do-it-all.”

His mouth twitches into a smile despite her teasing tone. “And yet, I keep hoping I’ll rub off on you.” He teases back then freezes at the same time she does. “Uh-I mean,” his cheeks grow red and Octavia smirks as she glances up at him. “That is to say…you know, I thought I could influence you to be better.”

“I am doing better.” Her smirk softens into a smile, “I mean – I’m here aren’t I?” She throws out her hands to gesture behind her. “At my old school, I don’t think I was ever this invested in finishing something on time.”

He regains his composure, smiling a little at the wonder in her own tone. “Maybe all you needed was a change.”

She holds his eye when she answers. “Maybe,” she doesn’t realize at first that she’s leaning forward, “or maybe it’s just the people.” She adds softly.

She thinks there’s a moment that his eyes widen in surprise, and he opens his mouth to answer but nothing comes out. Then he suddenly stands straighter and clears his throat without looking directly at her.

Octavia bites her lower lip to stop herself from grinning. She likes flustering him, she thinks a lot of people don’t get that chance and she relishes it every time he glances away and blushes. Her mouth opens, intent on teasing him again – until his eyes drop to her notes and the balled up paper in front of them.

“Do you need help with your project or –” His hands drift to the paper and before she can stop him, he picks it up curiously. “How many ideas have you tossed out already?”

“Lots,” she carefully answers, stretching her hand out for the piece of paper. “Give that back.” 

“No way,” he says shaking his head, unaware of her sudden change in mood. “Perhaps all you need is another pair of eyes, and it wouldn’t do any good if you asked anyone other than me –”

“Beckett,” she doesn’t stop her voice from going sharp. “Give that back.”

Beckett stops and suddenly he’s the one smirking at her as though he’s realized he’s onto something. “If this isn’t your project then what is it -?”

“Harrigton, I’m warning you.” Her voice has surrendered all pretense. She reaches over – nearly falling over the table in her desperate attempt to retrieve the piece of paper.

“Now you’ve gone and gotten me curious.” He playfully twists out of her outreached palms again before getting to his feet.

Her chest seizes in panic. Please don’t – “Beckett, wait –” Usually, nothing gets her embarrassed but the thought of him seeing it makes her think her heart will spring from her chest. She nearly trips over her own two feet and his eyes flash with concern until he swiftly realizes she’s okay.

He sidesteps her again. His hands quickly unfurl the sheet of paper and Octavia suddenly wants nothing better than the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He simply stares at it in his hand as though not quite believing what he sees himself. Then his cheeks grow red, and Beckett can’t meet her gaze as he hands the paper back to her. “You’re quite good at drawing.” He comments off-handily.

She snatches it out of his hand, a little mortified at his words. Oh god. “Uh, thanks.” She holds her breath for a moment, tucking the paper into her sleeve. This is it. This is where he’ll finally have the upper hand. He’ll tease her endlessly about it, and she’ll never leave it down. And she’ll die alone - with only her familiar to keep her company.

Then he turns to her and her pulse jumps when she meets his eyes, feeling the weight of his stare. “I quite like it.” 

“You do?” Her throat goes suddenly dry and all the witty and snappy comebacks she can think of dissolves from the intensity in his eyes. He isn’t just Beckett, the boy that sometimes intimidates her with his strong opinions and knowledge. He isn’t quite the boy who irritates her either, instead he’s simply just a guy and they’re just two people suddenly very close to each other. 

“I do.” He repeats, his voice sounding huskier – not quite the Beckett she recognizes by the change of his tone. Maybe she’s had him pegged wrong this entire time.

Octavia grins, her familiar confidence taking root as she tilts her chin up to hold his stare. “You know, since you do like it. Maybe I could sketch you sometime.” She doesn’t need to say the word alone, but the word bursts forward into her mind, like a sudden rush of water that floods the rest of her thoughts empty.  And she can’t help but think by the sudden flash in his eyes that he’s thought of it too. 

Beckett seems to snap out of it at first, mumbling something so low that she doesn’t catch it before stepping aside. Instantly she feels a stab of disappointment. She shrugs it off though, she doesn’t know what came over her anyway. As fun as it is to tease Beckett, she doesn’t think anything will come of it. He’s too buttoned up and well – she’s anything but that.

“I – you - Octavia - your project,” he scrambles to get back to his seat, not quite meeting her gaze until she follows his lead.

She sits in front of him just as he regains his composure. 

He gestures to her books, picks up one at random and all too quickly, he’s the Beckett she remembers. His shoulders straighten, his brow creases and his eyes are all but rooted to the sight in front of him. He quirks an eyebrow at the long list of things she still needs to get done.  “I think you should be far more concerned about passing this semester,” he says brusquely, “than meeting up with other students.”

“Alright, fine Harrington. You win.” Octavia heaves a prolonged sigh. “I guess I should be thanking you for the help anyway.” Most people are already gone for the holidays and she’s begrudgingly grateful for his help.

She flickers her wrist to draw one of her books to her hand, and out of the corner of her eyes, she swears she spots a tiny hint of a smile poking from his lips. 

“Then let’s get started.”

-