–

Studying was one of Tavi’s least favourite things to do. Quite frankly, she thought it should be everyone’s least favourite thing to do. It was tiresome, boring to a fault and she would rather watch paint dry than read the thoughts and manuscripts of old dead guys spread out in front of her.

She often grew impatient when she studied, stared off into space and procrastinated whenever possible. And without study sessions, she didn’t think her chances were high enough to pass the semester. Simply put, Tavi greatly preferred the practical side of things instead of books, she enjoyed using magick on the fly until she realized – without the proper breakdown of spells, she would always hit a wall.

But she was a Brimstone and Brimstones as her mother often said – were too stubborn to quit, and with her friends’ assistance, studying wasn’t starting to feel like the chore she always knew it to be.

Shreya was great with cue cards and Zeph was good at relating examples to circumstances she could understand. Beckett was the only problem. He was still a thorn in her side. He was more likely to turn a study session into a history lesson or something of a moral debate and often times, Tavi would snap from impatience – before an argument naturally followed. It wasn’t her fault, Beckett often lingered on things she thought to be unnecessary and without the rest of their friends to break them apart, she was positive she’d end up accidentally lighting something on fire.

Still the last day of the weekend was reserved for study night – especially with exams brewing around the corner.

It was only unfortunate that everyone else had cancelled – things that had been mentioned in their group chat earlier came up at the last second for Shreya and Zeph, while Tavi spent the remaining time wondering if Beckett would still show up. He hadn’t mentioned anything.

The thought of being alone with him had suddenly made her fumble and the mug she brought to her lips threatened to slip between her fingers.

She caught it at the last second, sighing in relief before placing it carefully among the stacked books across the coffee table. With both Zeph and Shreya gone, Tavi wondered if this was a good idea at all. There would be no buffer tonight, no one to stop them from bickering – or from who knows what.

Would he still come over without them?

Biting her lower lip, Tavi glanced at the clock – surprised there was still an hour till their session. How was time going so fast? She still had to make a decision. Should I text him?

She grabbed her phone, and stared at it in between her hands. She begun with a brisk explanation until it became abrasive and nearly a paragraph by the very end. She stared at it again.

Do it. Just do it. Ask him. Don’t make a big deal out of it.

Try as she might, she couldn’t will herself to press send and closed her phone. But the wait was killing her –time feeling as though it had slowed down only to torment her indecision.

She dropped her phone on the coffee table, after considering chucking it before sinking deeper into the couch. Ugh, where was Shreya and her advice when she needed her?

As though reading her mind, the sound of two timid knocks by the front door rouse her to her feet. She did a double check of herself as she passed a mirror and nearly scowled at herself by the sudden action. What is wrong with me? They hung out plenty of times before – she wouldn’t let the fact that they were alone make it, well weird.

–

Tavi opened the door, and casually leaned against its frame as Beckett raised his eyes to meet her smirk. She couldn’t believe how relieved she felt at seeing him standing there.

He came.

Trying not to dwell on the thought, she grinned at him. “Beckett, you’re here early.”

Something passed in his eyes, before Beckett inclined his head cordially to her. He hadn’t known why he expected more – he knew they were alone tonight, and yet she was wearing sweats, – but why would she be wearing anything else? This was still just about studying after all.

“Octavia.” He greeted. “It’s a force of habit.”

“Why am I even not surprised?” She tsked at him, “has there ever been anything you’ve been late for?”

“No.” The mere thought made him anxious.

Tavi rolled her eyes. She then stepped aside, giving him enough room to follow her before closing the door quietly behind him. “You know, one of these days I’ll get you to say it.”

“That’s probably very unlikely to happen.” He stated, shrugging off his jacket to hang it up.

She led him towards the living room, “I just don’t get why you can’t say it – it’s a nickname I rather like.” She scowled, “and everyone else says it.”

Instead of answering her right away, Beckett surveyed the list of books resting atop of the table. “I have this thing with names.” He paused for a moment, thinking she wouldn’t really care for an explanation. But he particularly liked how hers’ sounded – it rolled off the tongue with ease. Shaking his head, he turned to her. “And in case you’ve forgotten I’m not like everyone else.” And if he was being honest with himself, the thought of being compared that way was certainly off-putting. He wanted to mean more than anyone else.

The thought had been so abrupt and sudden that it momentarily stunned him.

She was saying something and it took a moment for him to clue in as he wondered where that thought had came from.

Tavi sighed in frustration. “Oh, how could anyone forget?” She gestured wildly to him, and Beckett thinks he had unintentionally angered her. “When you constantly remind me in some shape or fashion that you’re better than other people?”

His sharp eyes flicker in anger and he curled his lip slightly at her. “I have never said anything like that.” She wanted to believe he was being pompous – and it frustrated him that something so candid, could be used against him.

“But that’s what you meant, right?” She countered, shooting him a glare.

Beckett’s mouth slid open. There was more he wanted to say but no sense in saying it. “We’re doing it again.”  He glanced away, frowning.

“What?”

He made a show of pointing between them. “Arguing. Even without our friends here, we can’t seem to stop.” The revelation wasn’t shocking, only disappointing to think about. He hoped…well, he didn’t dare allow himself to finish that sentence.

Tavi’s mouth opened to retort and then just as swiftly closed. “God, you’re right.” It never took much for them to get off on the wrong foot. She paused as he moved towards the beige sofa. “Does this happen to everyone…? Do metal atts and fire atts simply not get along?”

Beckett considered her words carefully, before answering. “We can, it’s a matter of several factors – even outside of our innate natures.”

“So, it’s not just biological?”

“No, it isn’t.” He shook his head. “It’s just…” he trailed off for a moment. He was trying to come up with some semblance of a way to explain, but it fell short. He simply stated what he thought was their problem. “…different for some reason. With us.” His gaze slid to her, unflinchingly.

Tavi’s throat went suddenly dry at the sudden intensity of his stare. Was she hearing things or did his tone change when he said us? Maybe she was reading too much into nothing, or maybe there was something more. It was hard to tell with Beckett when he played his feelings too close his chest. His thoughts – he had no problem letting people know exactly what he thinks, but everything else was another matter entirely.

But inside her dorm where there were only the two of them; a tiny voice inside her head kept nagging insistently – maybe this was more than just two people studying. Maybe, it really did mean something more.

A tiny voice she pointedly tried to ignore.

Faintly frowning, Tavi took a seat beside him; noting the moment he tried to subtly shift away when their arms innocently brushed. She bristled. She didn’t know why the simple gesture frustrated her, but it did. “Okay, so where do you want us to start tonight?”

She eyed him from the corner of her eyes as she spoke, watching when the book he grabbed nearly slipped through his fingers. “Uh, Beckett?”

“Yes – sorry, I –” He cleared his throat. She’s talking about studying Harrington. He scowled at himself inwardly. He picked up the book as gracefully as he could before clearing his throat again. “How about we go over today’s lesson first?” He refused to make eye contact with her.

Tavi quirked an eyebrow at him. Did she detect a hint of a blush there? Sure enough, the longer she casted not-so-subtle glances in his direction, the more certain she was that he had been blushing; although he still wouldn’t look directly at her.

When Beckett finally risked a glance, his nerves jumped when he found her staring back at him. Tensing, he looked away. “Could you please not stare so loudly at me?”

“Loudly?” She repeated with a laugh. “I didn’t think staring at someone is something you do loudly.”

“It is when you’re doing it.” He muttered insistently, turning a page of his own notes. It was unnerving how intently she stared at him. Although he pretended not to notice at first, the way she kept looking at him made it difficult for him to focus.

“I can’t help it Beckett,” She shrugged, “have you seen yourself blush? It’s rather cute.” His cheeks turned that colour again, the stark pink that delighted Tavi enough to laugh. “See! There you go again!”

He stiffened. “Octavia.”

“What’s wrong?” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently at him. “Am I…dare I say it – distracting you, Harrington?” A coy smile toyed at the corner of her lips.

“What?” His eyes swung away in alarm. “No! O-Of course not.” He stammered, stiffening again. He was not amused by her antics and he certainly giver her the satisfaction.

Picking up his book stiffly, he uttered a sigh. “If the reason we’re here tonight isn’t to study, please let me know so that I may return to my room.” While apart of him wanted to entertain other ideas, they still had an exam to prepare for and projects to finish.

Beckett continued, “Besides, you aren’t nearly as distracting as you think you are.” He tried to convey confidence but Tavi could see past his bravado.

To test her conviction, she leaned towards him and ‘innocently’ took a couple pieces of popcorn. Her pale hair fell across his shoulder and their arms brushed. He froze as she anticipated before he hastily leaned away from her. What she hadn’t expected was her own response; nerves that were often be irritated at him came alive with a different purpose. She pulled back sharply, startled at the spark she felt when they touched. Woah, this is new.

“Perhaps we should start –”

“Maybe we should start –”

They both stopped at the same time, laughing. “We never speak of this again.” Beckett waved a hand in the thin air.

“Hey, at least we’re actually getting along. That has to count for something, right?” She grinned at him. “If only Shreya could see us now.”

“Perish the thought.” But the corner of his lips lifted into a smile. He held up a book, “back to work?”

She gave a prolonged sigh. “Do we have to?”

He stated the obvious. “Yes Octavia, we do.” He replied half-amused. He retrieved a pen from his bag and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Although, making cue cards is probably where we should start.”

“Now you’re starting to sound just like her.”

–

An hour passed before Octavia felt frustrated again.

It didn’t matter how much she read, how long she stared – they felt just as foreign to her as when they started. “This is impossible!” She sighed in annoyance before slamming the book close, and startling Beckett from beside her.

“What’s wrong?” He hadn’t closed his book, simply lifted his gaze to her.

“All of it.” She gestured angrily at the book. “All of it’s wrong, because none of it makes any sense.”

“How can none of it make any sense?” He frowned, confused. “You should at least understand the basic terminologies of –”

“I don’t, okay? I just don’t, Harrington.” She snapped, cutting him off. “And instead of helping, you’re so buried in your own little world, that you might as well –” she pointed at him, “have stayed home.”

Beckett visibly flinched at her words. He closed the book shut. “Hey, I’m trying my best here!”

“Are you? Because it really feels like I’m all alone here.”

“It would be easier, if you weren’t so resistant to everything.”

“Maybe if you tried making it more relatable!”She gave an insufferable sigh.

“My job isn’t to make things relatable. In fact, I don’t even have to be here. I was doing you a favour.” Beckett went stiff immediately, regretting those words the moment he said them. “Octavia,” he begun pleadingly, “that isn’t what I meant –”

Her expression became sour and between her clenched teeth, he could hear how angry she was. “No, I understand perfectly.” She folded her arms. “Well, I’m sorry that things don’t just come naturally to me.”

Beckett stiffened. She was talking about him. Of course she was.

She had no idea – no idea how hard he worked to prove himself worthy of his family’s legacy. She had no idea of the sister he had always been compared to at dinner tables and family functions; the sister he felt not two steps behind – but seven thousand. She had no idea at all.  His success was nothing compared to his family expectations.

Beckett bit his lip, wanting nothing more than to suddenly curl his lips at her and lash out. He fought for control. He took several breaths, calming himself – not glancing at her until he could finally breathe easily again.

“Nothing? You really have nothing to say?” She snorted. Apart of her knew she goading him – but she saw something passed in his eyes; anger – bitterness. She wanted to see him feel those things. “Well that’s a first.”

The stab of frustration was relentless. “You don’t know anything about me.” His response was curt, harsh.

“You turn your nose at everyone – so how can anyone know you?” She retorted back, her chin lifting defiantly.

Silence greeted her back. It was somehow louder than her own heart, beating erratically inside her chest.

“I think I should go.”  He answered stoically, slamming his book shut. To think, he thought they were capable of finally find some common ground with each other. “It’s probably best we study separately from now on.”

Tavi watched him wordlessly cross the room, until the ugliest tides of guilt threatened to pull her under. “Beckett, wait-” She touched his arm gently as he rose to leave. There was that spark again. She felt it jolt up her arm.

“What is it?” He didn’t move away but she could feel the muscles in his arm tensing.

“I – I’m sorry.” She bit her lower lip. She dropped her hand, glancing at it as though she had been burned.

He waited patiently for her to continue.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you.” Tavi wasn’t angry at him, not really –  it was a misdirection from the source of her problems. It was the assignments she felt angry at. It was every time they studied together, Beckett and the rest of her friends that seemed to just get everything. It was every stark reminder as brilliant and often marvelous as they seemed that she had grown up without learning any of this – without realizing magick was real.  And while everyone around her seemed to flourish – she thought she was wilting, one petal at a time – struggling and failing to keep up.

“It’s me,” she said finally, breaking the terse silence that had filled the air. “It’s not you, it’s me.” She released a breath, “I-I don’t think I’m Penderghast material.” She fumbled a little, hating the way the words sounded on her tongue. She hated feeling so unsure, it was unlike her. But everything here was unordinary, special – different. She had nothing else to compare her experiences to.

“That isn’t true.”

She was surprised to hear the conviction in which he spoke, and even more surprised when she felt his presence moving – closing the distance between them. “Tavi, look at me.” He said her name gently – softly.

She was almost convinced she imagined it.

A little reluctantly, Tavi met his stare. She had expected a rash response, something unintentionally snotty but instead – he was close enough for her to see faint creases in his brow.

His eyes were serious – they were always serious, but it was the way they were serious that made her breath catch, made her entire body freeze. They weren’t staring at the books between them, they were staring at her – imploring, willing her in a way that she found herself powerless to look away from.

“Everyone’s felt like that before, yes – even me. But you’re meant to be here, in Penderghast. Deep down you must know it.” Beckett’s voice seemed to have gone softer. “Penderghast College doesn’t make mistakes, they handpick the best for opportunities that most people will never have. It may not always feel like it, but there’s a reason everyone wants to go here. You simply can’t be a mistake.”

She supposed she should feel grateful. He was trying to reassure her – in the only way she thinks he knew. But she couldn’t shake it off; it was a feeling that lingered the longer she here – she was still missing something. It wasn’t all whole.

She felt his hand before she saw it, tipping her chin – forcing her not to look away. It was something so unexpected that Tavi blinked in surprise.

“You’re meant to be here.” Beckett repeated – not a matter-of-factly, but with a sense of urgency that made his voice a little hoarse. He wanted to wipe the uncertainty off her; it wasn’t Octavia – not the infuriating girl that often gotten under his skin – not the Octavia he knew. No, he couldn’t imagine her not here.

Without thinking, his hand had shifted to cup her cheek.

Tavi remained silent. Her eyes locked on his. She hadn’t realized it at first but she was leaning into him, breathing in his cologne – gripping his free hand for comfort she never thought she needed. She was surprised he felt so strongly about this; she had expected Zeph to be her confidant and implore for her to stay but the relief in hearing Beckett believed she belonged here – it felt nearly tangible. It felt like he really cared. “Thank you, Beckett.”

“You’re welcome. Octavia, I -” He hesitated and abruptly realized how close they were standing together, the same moment she did.

He pulled away first and the tips of his ears turned pink. He sat back on his heels; already grabbing a book as she sat beside him. This time, he didn’t make a conscious effort to place space between them.

“You’re actually…remarkably good at making people feel better.” She tried to make her tone light and cordial as he snorted.

“You sound so surprised.”

“Well, can you blame me?” She picked up a cue card, scribbling on it carefully before risking a glance at him. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?” She paused. “Wait, don’t answer that.”

Beckett chuckled, lips quirking into a quiet smile as he met her stare. “Let’s go over everything, starting from the very beginning.”

–