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"I'm f-fine," she shivered, hugging her own body in a subtle but futile attempt to create warmth while simultaneously swatting away the hand of the boy next to her.
The petticoat over her pastel pink top had proven insufficient in the climate of the uncontrolled coldness of the classroom. An atmosphere reminiscent to winter but lacking the cheer that accompanied the season. How was she supposed to know the thermostat wouldn't be functional! Maintenance usually took care of this!
The boy beside her frowned and gave her a pointed look, "You are most certainly not fine," was his unconvinced response.
"I d-don't know what you're t-talking about, I'm p-perfectly f-fine," she insisted, but his expression was undeterred.
She'd really never been the best liar anyway.
The two stared at one another, challenging the other to back down. The contest between the blue eyed girl and green eyed boy lasted seconds before the former felt another shiver go up her spine. Curses, She conceded to defeat with a heavy sigh.
"Take it," he ordered, placing his black coat on her shoulders. Her tongue tied and heat rushed to her cheeks at the gesture.
Dammit! She was supposed to be over green eyed boys and being flustered with every little thing. Where was the Damian from two months ago who didn't even look in her direction! She didn't fluster back then! Day to day indifference did wonders for her!
The thick black coat now on her shoulders might have been slowly warming her as it trapped her own body heat, but that didn't stop the stuttering from persisting.
"W-w-won't you b-be c-cold? I d-don't don't want you to be c-cold bec-cause of m-me," she projected.
"It is of no significance, unlike some," he sent her a pointed look, "I generate enough body heat to survive the ever harsh terrain presented by a broken thermostat,"
She pouted at the jab and blatant sarcasm, "There's no way you're warm," skepticism lacing her words. It had to be below eighteen degrees! No normal person could be warm, especially when the only clothing worn were a pair of jeans and a turtle neck.
The pink tint on her cheeks and flustered state had long dissipated as she reached to feel his hand, determined to prove him wrong. And surprisingly, his calloused palms were warm to the touch.
"How," she muttered in disbelief, ignorant to the red tipped ears of her seatmate. He cleared his throat.
"There are multiple processes within the body that work to regulate one's temperature within as one's surroundings shift, your system is clearly, not as effective as it should be" he stated in an as-the-matter-of-a-factly tone.
"Okay, b-but my fingers are like icicles while yours are a heat furnace!" she retorted, still warming her palms on his, still unknowing to the growing blush Damian fought off.
He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off quickly.
"Miss Dupain-Cheng," was announced at a loud volume, causing a flash of panic to stab at her chest, " seeing as you are quite engaged in conversation, you surely know the answer to the question stated on the board," the chemistry teacher at the front of the class raised her eyebrow, causing a rupture of giggling amongst the students.
Marinette blushed in embarrassment before glancing at the problem on the board. She could have sworn she heard a snicker from beside her but as she turned to face Damian, he had already regained a stoic facade. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.
"Marinette! Please answer the question and stop staring at Damian!" Miss mendeleiv repeated in the same aggravated tone. The ravenette squeaked. She hadn't meant to stare!
"S-sorry Madame!"
Why was she such a mess!
Curse these green eyed boys.