Detention

@Wayne
170 cm, brown eyes, sharp long black nails, septum, and lots of earrings

Detention. Detention? That had got to be the most ridiculous thing that had ever happened to him. It hadn't even been his fault. Or idea. Or intention. Or anything! How could anyone think that he would ever cheat on an exam. Did they not know that he was smart? He didn't have to cheat. He could remember every word of every book he had ever read and okay maybe he had been lazy just this once and repeated a few words from the book but he hadn't written it off or anything - it was all in his head.
Wayne scolded at the clock on the top of the doorframe to the detention room and let out a slight whimper. Not only had he gotten a detention - the teacher couldn't even be bothered to be on time and now he was wasting precious minutes sitting amongst outlaws and idiots in a smelly room with bad air freezing hit bottom off. Just as his mind was spiralling towards the dark place of self pity the teacher walked in - looking very much not like a teacher. He furrowed his eyebrows sceptically wondering why anyone would wear sunglasses in this weather - or have ones belly out - and didn't even have time to be happy that she was telling Todd off for being his usual piggy self.

Wayne let out a surprised yelp, startled by the sudden shout. He glanced sideways to whoever sat next to him in hope that he or she understood what was going on as he felt like his brain was glitching heavily, somehow making his mind silent instead of loud like it usually was. As he turned his head, the reprimanding voice echoed once again and he clenched his jaw, frantically fumbling to obey her order to leave immediately. With a silent gulp he gathered the books that he had laid out neatly on the table and turned around in his seat to put them back in his backback that was slung over the chair he sat on.
Except you, Anthony!
There was an evident delay in Waynes reaction and he didn't stop immediately, not recognising his own name for a second. Nobody called him Anthony. Nobody but his mother. He froze mid movement. People around him seemed to hurry, a few sending curious glances at him, probably wondering what he had done to infuriate the scary teacher - much like he did himself. What had he done? Had he said anything? Did he know her? Questions clouded his mind as he sat without moving, wishing that it would make her less upset with him if he didn't move. It sometimes had helped with his father, when he got upset or was too drunk to function. No sudden movements, he told himself. No sudden movements and you won't get hurt. He swallowed. The sound of her heels on the floor coming closer to him making him flinch in anticipation. Her hand shot out and forced him to face her. He could hear the rush of blood in his ears as his heart beat galloped. "I-I'm sorry miss - uh - ma'am. Teacher - I -missus," he stuttered, not knowing what he was apologising for, as the blood shot up through his cheeks turning them slightly pink. He dared not breathe. Then his head reversed to figure out what she had just told him and his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the blood that had rushed to his face, draining instantly. Mate? "Your what?" He screeched high pitched and frantic. "No, no. No ma'am -uh - miss. I should really think that you might somehow, definitely, probably are mistaken. Terribly but most definitely. Mistaken." God, she was so close to his face. He let out a whimper, and sucked air in through clenched teeth slowly putting his hand across his mouth, scared that his words would infuriate her even further.

“You know it’s physically impossible to swallow ones tongue,” he mumbled, a little offended at her aggressive outbursts. He whimpered again, forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling, away from her as she took off her jacket showing her fit abs and beautiful skin. “God! Stop swearing at me!” He exclaimed, feeling out of breath, quickly adding a little: “Uh. Please.”

He let his eyes lower, staring at her, once again his lips parted and his face showing nothing but disbelief and confusion. Anthony? The name was there on her skin, beautifully shimmering in cursive. “I - yes?” He squeaked, feeling the heat in his cheeks. “P-people call me Wayne. Nobody calls me Anthony. I, h-how do you even know my -“ He drew in a sharp breath, “Just because I’m an Anthony doesn’t mean I’m the Anth-“
His words distorted into a short yelp when she rather violently pushed away the table, exposing him completely and removing the little security he had felt he could hide behind. He knew that look in her eyes only too well. The look of a hunter hunting a prey; and he didn’t like being on the other end of it. Not one bit. Shit. She was way too close to his face.

Wayne shuttered as his eyes widened in absolute, pure disbelief, his pupils dilating heavily. The lady, whose name he still didn’t know and at this point he strongly denied actually existed even though that was an impossible thought, put her fingers on his hand, taking it down and away from his face. Instinctively he closed his legs and his entire body tensed. Was she using some wicked powers on him? Her fingers shot electricity through his arm and further into his entire body making him feel week. Her face didn’t help. So close to his, her eyes intensely looking into him. He drew a sharp breath. This had never happened before. He had a mental block to magic for God’s sake, this shouldn’t affect him. The feeling, though oddly pleasant and arousing, was new and scary and he had to physically bite his tongue to not let out another whimper that in turn sounded suspiciously like a moan. She smelled so good! His eyes was drawn by her lips that hovered just about an inch from his.
“How are you doing that?!” He exclaimed surprisingly loudly through a shuddered breath, sounding almost angry. His mental resistance had never failed him before and quite frankly that scared him even more than the scarily beautiful woman in front of him. So much more.

Wayne stared. He knew it was rude to stare, it really was, but the way she licked her lips made his head empty as if he could only focus on her. She smelled like sage. And old parchment bound books. He loved the smell of parchment. He also liked sage. It's the bond. "It's the bond," he replied, not really listening to the words at all. She took at step back and it was like sunlight was finally able to penetrate the clouds in his head, shooing away the fog. "It's the bond!?" He shrieked. It was horribly, terribly awful because it made a twisted kind of sense. It was the bond. My God, she wasn't joking. She really wasn't joking. "Well, make it stop!?" He exclaimed, his voice still high pitched and suddenly very judgemental as if this was all her fault. Surely it would be stopped one way or another, right?

He jumped in shock as someone knocked on the door.
Wayne stared in disbelief. He looked from side to side, mouth wide open, his mind unable to comprehend what his eyes were telling it they were witnessing. A packed room. Words on the blackboard. The lady now with a kind smile. The confusion nearly made him miss her name, as the teacher spoke it, looking every bit as baffled as he himself felt. Artemis. The Goddess of Hunt. He swallowed. This couldn't possibly be a Goddess could it? It did fit awfully well with his former thoughts of her as a hunter and it made him shuffle uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to catch the eyes of the new teacher, looking as pleading humanly possible.
"Mgh, miss!" He exclaimed, trying to get her attention. "Uh - I'm not feeling to well I think I need the nurse!" He raised his hand feeling a little flicker of hope as the teacher turned around to look out into the classroom - a flicker that drowned in hopelessness when she very clearly didn't see him at all. He gaped in surprise. She didn't see him. He shifted his attention - now the confusion mixed heavily with fear - to Artemis, sitting completely still as his brain tried to process the scene. How she moved like a cat smiling warmly at the teacher; a warmth that seemed very alien to her. And then, as if the day couldn't get more bizarre, she snapped her fingers and the classroom was empty again. Wayne couldn't figure out it he was scared or impressed. Quite possibly both at this stage. He was looking at the table next to him, where someone had just been and now disappeared, when she hummed his name. Her shoes once again echoed on the polished floor, yet this time he fumbled out of his chair, finally standing up and held out a hand in front of himself to sort of physically create a barrier between them.
Maybe I should show you, just how strong this bond is.
He smiled nervously at her, frantically shaking his head as he took at few steps backwards. His other hand was firmly behind him as he scrabbled around the tables and chairs, fumbling his way back as she came closer. "Oh no, miss. Artemis. Miss. I think that's not a good idea at all, very much," he mumbled before pinching his lips together, following her with his eyes.

He had heard the stories, of course, of witches and their mates and how painful it could be to lose one. Truth be told, Wayne had never cared much about the history of the species around him much like he didn't care much about species in general. He was rather gullible to be indifferent towards people, refusing to believe that anyone was born a certain way just because they were born a different species. Now magic was something else. He was intrigued by magic, but in his mind it had never made sense. Angels made sense. Demons made sense. Even bloody werewolves made sense in some way but magic? He had had a very hard time wrapping his head around that even though his eyes saw it daily. Now magic could maybe somehow be explained and even paralleled to science but there was one thing in this world that could possibly never be explained and it was exactly what Artemis was now telling him he had become a part of. Unwillingly, unexplainably and unknowingly. A mating-bond. It sent shivers down his spine as his hands locked around the edge of a table to steady himself.
"Lord. You've lost two?" He said with a very small voice, as his eyebrows knitted in his forehead. He had been told of the pain and here she was, saying she had endured something so horrible not just once but twice and somehow managed to survive it. It's not a very good track record, he thought to himself, wondering if this was a cruel way of fate to tell him that he was next. He felt sad for her though, a sadness that he could feel all the way down his stomach with the force of an empathy he had never felt for a stranger before. He listened in silence.

Wayne ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what to do with himself, feeling uncomfortable in his body as he stood in the other end of the room from her. She was explaining things he knew, but her voice was a little bit bitter as if she wasn't amused at all by this thought. Then her face changed into a smirk, and he regarded her with parted lips as her piercing eyes reached him. He drew in a sharp breath, remembering how it had felt when she had touched him an-
"When we have sex?!" He replied, wheezing, suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. He clamped around the table top behind him, scared he would fall over. How was she so goddamn casual about it all? He felt his forehead, feeling feverish as the confusion, frustration and weird attraction to this woman made his cheeks flush. "That is an awfully inconveniently lot of ways to die," he said very faintly, looking at her with widened eyes. He stared again. An awkward silence hit them as he stood there, not knowing what to do or what to say or how to stand or how to breathe properly. Was this a panic attack? He had to sit down. Was he about to faint? Wayne looked behind him to find the nearest chair and let himself fall onto it, clumsily sitting down as his breathing raised in speed.

Wayne surrendered and put his head in his hands, trying to catch his breath and calm his heart that ran in circles around him making him dizzy and unfocused. He hardly heard her or payed attention to her until she put his hands on his back and he raised his eyes to hers. Her voice was oddly calming. And nice. The little circles on his back had him lower his shoulders a bit, but the panic was still there.  
Focus on your breath.
Her voice reached him through his foggy head and he sneered from pure frustration. "Lady! I can't focus on anything," He growled, his voice building volume as the anger started to take over. Or the frustration. Or the panic. Whatever it was it made his eyes darken and his jaws tighten as he tried to grasp for enough air to not pass out in the empty classroom. "You come in here like it's all natural to tell me that I - ugh," he whimpered frustratedly and threw his hands up in annoyance. God, who did she think she was?! This beautiful chocolate skinned woman. What gave her the right! With her pretty, glistening eyes and long eyelashes and adorable nose. Her hands touching his knees like that. The audacity! Coming in here ruining a perfectly already ruined day even more. First detention and now this? This alluring witch with her buttery soft voice and her bloody sage and parchment smell. "What do you want me to say to all this! Mh?" He shouted, his scottish accent becoming more and more audible with each word. "You're telling me that it's my fault if you die if we won't have sex! Where's the bloody logic in this?!"
The outburst of anger was followed by another sharp whimper. He frantically grabbed her hand that was still on his knees and drew a loud breath trying to calm himself. "Try what?" He asked, finally trying to focus on his breath as she had asked of him earlier.

So, you do know how to talk back.
Wayne's head shot up, looking warily at her. The playful tone of her voice hitting him like a verbal slap. Was she upset? She grabbed his face and the panic surged drastically in him. Was she gonna hit him? Sharp flashbacks of his father when he spoke back poked his thoughts and the only thing that kept them from taking over his entire mind was the warm hands on his face. The mild touch and little circles her fingers ran, made him lower his shoulders a little and breathe out sharply. The gravity of her words didn't come across with the calmness of her voice, so the talk about dying and sex somehow didn't seem too heavy on him. "Why would I reject you," he whispered breathlessly. She was so close to him again but this time around hit heart didn't speed up. It calmed down. He did like the idea of someone, anyone really, thinking he would be a good match to someone as terrifying as her. It made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn't that weak after all.

He did like her voice. Very soothing, low pitch, calm, confident. No heavy accent. Just a little fry to it that he liked listening to.
How else was I supposed to explain it? Wayne narrowed his eyes as he looked at her with a little pout. "Maybe not to angrily," he replied. "Quite offensive that."
She asked him if he was feeling better, and although the question in itself actually made him feel better, he was also feeling grumpy and annoyed at the world for constantly putting him in positions like this. Why couldn't he just live a normal bloody life, minding his own business, not having to mix other people into the equation. "Yeah," he replied with a low growl. "I'm feeling better." Who would have known that anger was a counter-measure to panic. Maybe it was the anger or maybe it was her stupid sage-perfume that was so overwhelming that he couldn't think anxious thoughts.

It’s just my default setting, when you’re angry all the time no one can hurt you.
He blinked, a little startled at her honesty. Wayne knew everything about default settings and defence mechanisms, shielding his own insecurities behind sarcasm and irony, it shouldn't really surprise him that other shielded theirs with anger and confidence. Defence mechanisms that really had always saved him when he had needed it. It had saved him many times when talking about his past, it always saved him when he didn't know what to do in social situations and in the end all he had ever known to rely on was his smart brain and his hands. He knew machines and mechanics. They couldn't hurt you or talk back or take offence. He understood them and they understood him. People on the other hand were much more complicated than machines and he never really knew how to really deal with them. Except Maya. Maya understood him better than most people and could keep up with his messy thoughts.
The alluring voice reached him again, surrounding him with sage and old books, making reality feel nearly as fantasy. Close his eyes? Waynes eyebrows knitted in his forehead but somehow he didn't even question it as he usually would have. He questioned mostly everything actually.

Wayne had kissed people before but it was nothing like this. He had never felt a kiss. Electricity shot through his entire body and swept away the floor under him taking away his breath. It felt like magic. However beautiful and magical it was the mere arousal and enjoyment made the heat shoot up through his cheeks and as her hand ran through his hair he had to draw a sharp breath of air. He gently put a hand on her arm and pushed backwards to make her pull a bit away, a little surprised at his calm movement. It was a little too intense, his entire body wanting to push back and melt into hers - a feeling that scared him very much. He wasn't like that. Still out of breath he stared at her with lightly parted lips, not knowing what to say or what to do. "God," he mumbled, in shock about what had just happened.

“Actually I do like Italian food.”
Wayne didn’t really hear the rest of the sentence as his head shot up in surprise of the softness in her voice. “Oh! Well, that’s good. Very good, then!”
As he regarded her with lightly parted lips she looked every bit as surprised as he did. She continued to babble on. The way she fumbled for her words made his cheeks burn and turn a lightly rosed pink. He had not been expecting that. She sent him a girlish smile and he scratched his cheek, trying not to look somewhat concerned. The smile made him smile back, every bit as flabbergasted. She’d never been on a date! He tried to recall if he ever had but couldn’t think straight as he sat in silence regarding her. Don’t get any fancy ideas! It Made him laugh and nod in agreement. Wholly and fully and happily. Sarcasm was at least a language he understood well.
Then she left.
Leaving Wayne with a piece of paper, staring at the door like a lost puppy; not able to comprehend anything that has just happened. How surreal. How unrealistic. How statistically near-impossible. He whimpered in the empty classroom. He had asked her on a date? What the hell was happening to him! He had never asked anyone on a date before in his entire life. Ever! He just asked. A teacher. On a date. He spun around to look out the window hoping the sun would calm his raising panic. He couldn’t tell anyone about this. He was a witch’s mate? How the hell was he gonna tell Maya?! And Roman? Oh my god they would go batshitcrazy. Even Davide at the Italian restaurant would go crazy. Wayne always came alone with a book. He groaned loudly. Ugh!
_______

Wayne had called the restaurant in advance to make sure it wasn’t fully booked. He had stared at his phone for about an hour, sitting alone in the classroom as the darkness fell upon the world and afternoon turned to evening. Then he had had about three boosts of panic after realizing he didn’t actually own a car and in the end had to text Artemis. Awkwardly asking if they could meet there instead of him picking her up without sounding too obviously young and inexperienced. Although not a good start on this unlikely date, he was somehow feeling hopeful regardless, and as he sat shifting a little impatiently in his seat he looked forward to seeing her. This restaurant was his favourite place in the world and he was childishly excited to show it to just about anyone. He had even put on a nice shirt and tidied his hair enough for it to be just noticeable enough without being too sleek. Davide had tapped his shoulder in a friendly manner every time he passed the little round table he was sat at as he waited for Artemis to show up. If she would show up at all of course

He hated when people were late. It was such a pain, especially because most people were. Always late. How could anyone plan anything when everyone else were late. Impossible. Wayne would have usually freaked out by now. At least a little more obviously that the way he was in fact freaking out. Instead he just sat feeling a little hopeless, staring into the lazy flame of the candlelight in front of him. The dimmed light and red roses made it look ever so obvious that he was being stood up. Daniele hadn’t even been to check up on him, probably painfully aware of it too. Of course she wouldn’t have come. Stupid. Maybe she had skipped town and everything; that was a way for witches to somehow ignore the mating bond if they weren’t happy with it, wasn’t it? Wayne pouted lightly and took a sip of water to counter his dry throat before returning his eyes to the candle flame. It flickered lightly as the door opened and he felt drawn to look up.

Wayne’s lips parted lightly. Bloody hell. As she walked towards him the beautiful blue dress caught onto the dim lights around them making her glisten like the night sky. It was utterly mesmerizing. Stunned at her appearance he didn’t hear her words to him and had to wait for his brain to catch up with his sight, before he realized what she had said. He finally closed his mouth and straightened his back a little, failing miserably in not being too obvious.
“Oh, that’s okay. I suppose I should’ve - uh - called instead, you know. I just don’t really like calling much,” he mumbled, trying to drag his surprised eyes away from her. “It’s just - mh, my hands get all sweaty when I have to, uh ...” His voice faded as he looked at her. She looked absolutely stunning. Obviously she had looked stunning earlier but this was entirely different. She didn’t look nearly as scary without the heavy makeup and instead of scary she looked ... cute. And beautiful.
Wayne knitted his eyebrows lightly. Now was a time for a compliment, wasn’t it? You have beautiful eyes? You look amazing?
“You have eyes,” he blurted out. Then he pinched his lips together for a second as his brain tried to catch up with what he had said and his eyes widened. “Beautiful!” He added in a squeak and dismissively waved his hand in front of her. “Beautiful eyes. Forget I just said that!” He slapped a hand in front of his face and looked away from her as his cheeks started burning. He quickly tried to change the subject, dragging a hand through his hair as he did so. God. It was so warm! “The aubergine parmigiana,” he replied in a low voice, heavily embarrassed. “Is amazing.”

Yes, it is known that a lot of species have eyes.
He hardly had time to reevaluate his life choices and dig himself down a hole of self pity before her little chuckle slammed into him, catching him completely off guard. It was the first time he’d heard her laugh, wasn’t it? A sincere laugh anyway. It shot electricity through his body and he held onto his glass a little tighter to not say something stupid. Except the Eurycea Rathbuni. The Texas salamander. No eyes. Wayne bit down on his lip to not splutter out random information about the Texas blind salamander or even get started on the Star-Nosed mole or how normal moles weren’t actually considered entirely blind contrary to popular beli-
You have beautiful eyes too.

Wayne parted his lips as he regarded her a little skeptically. Did she just compliment him? He didn’t really know what he had expected of tonight but it had hardly been more than five minutes and she had already laughed - chuckled, but it counted right? - and given him a compliment. Heat rushed through his body and his cheeks flushed lightly from the casual talk about his blue eyes. “Uh. Thank you,” he muttered, probably sounding every bit at confused as he was. In fact he thought the complete opposite. He loved how light reflected in dark eyes. How afternoon sun could make brown eyes nearly look like liquid gold. He quickly looked away, lowering his eyes to the menu card as Davide came to their table to take their order with his usual spluttering, heavily Italian accent; every bit of a Neapolitan cliche as you possibly could be. Artemis ordered and Davide raised his eyebrow with an impressed, warm laughter, gently patting Wayne’s shoulder.
“Mamma mia! She has taste Wayne,” he exclaimed with a wide grin before turning his attention back to the enchanting woman. “Tell you what, I’ve got one from 2010 and it beats all the 05’ers I’ve ever tasted,” he offered smiling a little apologetically at the fact he didn’t have the specific year. Wayne wrinkled his nose at him giving a half hearted smile back. “I’ll just get you the same then, Fitzgerald, eh?”
“Yeah, please, mate. That would be nice,” he replied a little sheepishly. He didn’t know much about wine but knew that the short Italian was passionate about it and luckily had a good collection of classic wine from Italy.

Wayne scratched his beard a little and shuffled in his seat trying to shuffle through anything to say. Talk about the weather? Talk about sports? She wouldn’t like sports would she? Unknown to many he was a big fan of football. People always seemed to be surprised at the fact that he was even quite passionate about it. She didn’t look like one who would care about football thought.
“Eh so. How was the rest of your afternoon?” He tried, hoping he wouldn’t sound too awkward and ran a hand through his hair to keep himself from fiddling too much with all the little things around him.

Daniele; being the extravagant Italian chap he was, was probably the only person in Wayne’s life he wouldn’t throw a fit at for referring to him as Fitzgerald. He had tried to explain that he didn’t exactly associate any pleasant memories to that name – it had been the whole reason for him to take the surname Wayne from his stepfather after all – but apparently in Italy, names meant more than people and memories and a surname was somewhat near a title. As Dani nodded to Artemis, he sent her a wide smile as a response before dashing off to fetch whatever wine they had both been talking about. Wayne furrowed his eyebrows slightly, trying to focus on almost anything else than the way the light reflected in her beautiful dress.

We saw each other two hours ago.
Wayne’s eyebrows furrowed further. He opened his mouth to protest at the fact that two hours wasn’t enough time to do anything meaningful, when she sighed loudly and asked him to lend him his hand. The furrowed eyebrows became a sceptical squint. Was she going to read his palm? Was that the sort of thing witches liked to talk about instead of their day? Her own hands; with beautiful sleek fingers, crossed the table and went palms up, inviting him to join them. He didn’t like physical contact much and a short flash of hand-germ statistics punched through his thoughts for just about a second before he managed to shoo them away and finally put his hand in hers. His face softened up slightly as the funny, buzzy feeling of her touch sent pleasant waves through his entire arm. He looked up at her, expectantly. Somehow, she didn’t seem as scary as she had seemed earlier. Maybe it was the lack of makeup or maybe she had just had a really bad day at the academy. Wayne’s eyes removed themselves from her to look at their hands as she started pushing down on a few rather sore spots on his hand.  “Mh,” he replied in a low hum, not really focusing on the conversation; intrigued with her swift fingers. “You’d probably look fantastic in just about anything,” he mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows yet again, as she hit a sore point to the side of his thumb, keeping his focus on their hands. “Two hours seem an awfully long time to think about that – but I’m not stressed.” The last sentence nearly overlapped his mumbling words. Why did everyone always tell him he seemed stressed? Stress was reserved for people that had to think a lot about things and who struggled with studies and keeping up with deadlines – he didn’t’ struggle with any of that. “Am I?” He moved his eyes to her again. Maybe he was. Maybe he was stressed. Maybe keeping up with everyone at the Academy was harder on him than he thought. It was probably the social aspect though – so many things to always have to think about. But then again wasn’t the social aspect of the school exactly why he was there. It wasn’t like they could teach him about science or engineering.