I'd only left Rav's room a few seconds after Dorian had but was surprised to find no one in the hallway. It was even more astonishing when it took me a while to reach the door with the flights of stairs that led to the roof. Did he sprint or something?

   As I walked through the door, my ears were met with the sound of pounding footsteps making their way up the stairs. Figuring out whose they were wasn't rocket science. I took a deep breath before beginning my journey to meet with Dorian a few steps ahead.

   As expected, he didn't acknowledge me when I eventually caught up beside him. His eyes were locked straight ahead, focused on the subsequent stairs like it was a life or death mission. I looked over to the handles of his backpack his hands were clutching. They seemed like he was squeezing the life out of them.

"You're mad," I made the stupid mistake of letting that observation slip out in a whisper.

   Then the reason for his actions suddenly clicked.

   The fullness of my stomach with what I believed was a well-earned two rounds of breakfast was enough to awaken my senses and make me realise that I may have let hunger and tiredness get the best of me. And Dorian had borne the brunt of my irritability.

"What gave you that idea?" His feet appeared to move even quicker.

   I had given up on trying to keep up with him when I realised it was either save the food I had just eaten or lose it trying to follow lightning feet. Besides, it was almost hard to feel his fury a few stairs below.

   Almost.

   Okay, so maybe he had been genuinely concerned when he mentioned earlier that I seemed exhausted and since I really was...uh, exhausted, I mistook that for hostility.

   But honestly, that wasn't my fault, was it? When unusual things—like the Grinch bringing back Christmas or Stan Lee in a DC Cameo or Dorian Mathers, caring about your well-being—happened, it was hard to just let go of your typical impulsive response.

   Anyway, I was still uncertain as to whether I was dealing with a two-faced liar. How could I say for sure that he cared?

"You haven't spoken to me since we were in Rav's room and you were silent through most of breakfast and the way you left..." I trailed off.

   I often hated confrontations, but after everything that we'd all been through and the somewhat social progress we'd made as a group, it didn't feel right to let something as petty as this linger this long.

   Dorian shifted his backpack which contained the packaged cameras as he halted on the stair just before the door leading to the roof. "Let's just get this over with."

   By the time I walked through the opened door he was already surveying the area, probably for the best spot to test the cameras. He barely glanced my way when he walked back to where I was standing, digging through his bag to get out the boxed up devices.

"Could you at least be careful with those?" I muttered, as he threw the boxes against the roof's floor with a sound I feared was more than the cameras could handle.

"The only reason," The next slam that came from Dorian was from the impact of his bag this time. "I said what I said was because I was concerned. It wasn't my intention to insult you."

"I admit this was partly on me for over-reacting and I'm—"

"Excuse me, did you say partly?" His green eyes seemed to switch to a darker shade from what was a mixture of anger and a mocking amusement. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Are you serious? Dorian, you have never liked me!" I exclaimed. "You made it clear from the very moment Minji invited me to join you guys' lunch table at Zavlon. If not for this whole situation, you can't possibly tell me that that would've changed. Not that it really has now or anything, but I'm just choosing to accept the fact that you don't glare holes into me anymore as a win."

"There you go again, doing what you do best." He shook his head, turning away with a bitter laugh.

"What are you talking about..." I inhaled a sharp breath when he suddenly turned back to face me, our proximity closer than ever. It was enough to paralyse my tongue and stance.

"Assuming the worst like you always do when it comes to people or any situation."

"That's not true." I frowned. "I don't do that."

"Really?" Dorian's brows raised in a questionable manner as he asked. "Because from what I remember, you based the rest of your time at Zavlon on just a few weeks of people talking behind your back. A few words from some backbiters was enough for you to judge every other Zavlonian. You are the first scholarship student our school has ever had and you knew that, but for some reason, you let meaningless words, which were to be expected, get to you within such a short time and distort you view of well, everybody!"

   I stared at him in silence as he paused to take a break with a few breaths.

"I remember when Minji invited you to our table for the first time." Dorian continued. "I saw how you looked at us. You saw nothing but shallow, self-absorbed, spoiled, over-privileged people. You looked at me, one of the students who had never spoken to you, like I was just like every other Zavolonian. Before that, I used to think how unfair people were for saying so many things about you, but at that very moment, you made it so hard for me to distinguish you from those very people. You don't need to be rich to feel like you're better than everyone else and you proved and continue to prove exactly that. Like when you already assumed Rav, Camila and I were going to judge you and your home when we were to come make the drones. I thought telling the rest that I'd better come alone would make you feel at least a bit better, but it didn't. You still had that same look, that look which just judges every one and situation, because of some present form of baseless paranoia still triggered by meaningless words from the past."

   That was the longest speech I'd ever and would probably ever hear Dorian give but that was the least of my concern. Neither was I going to be fazed by the anger that was laced with each word spoken. And I sure as hell wasn't going to think about the ounce of hurt that was laced with every angry utterance from him.

   If he wanted to go there, so be it. The memories and feelings from my first weeks in Zavlon had been suppressed for far too long anyway.

"Meaningless words?" I questioned, the shaky fingers I had tried to cease by tucking them into my palm morphed into trembling fists instead. "The people who said it certainly meant it though, didn't they? They meant every derogatory whisper, every new nickname that seemed to sprout, I don't know, every second? They meant it when they called me a social climber, a gold-digging whore who was going to prey on the first Zavolonian that gave me a slight glance. Uh, what else? Let's see, a good for nothing mistake that just got lucky, someone who was still going to end up dying in a filthy Ridgeton ditch, a poor drugged-out mess. Did I mention the race 'jokes'? Cause apparently, being a dark-skinned girl is just a whole lot worse when you're not rich. Did I also include how most of these words were put down to writing? No? I dreaded every time I had to open my locker because my worst fears were always confirmed, a new letter with its daily dose of insults and death threats."

"Beth—"

"And who was I going to talk to about all this?" I raised my hand to interrupt him. "During those horrible first weeks, I had no one. I certainly couldn't go complaining to the school. How could I when they had given me a 'chance'? And what was I going to tell Tali or Mum, the only people who had more than encouraged me to apply for the slot in the first place? In Ridgeton, my home, I was either the one who got out and/or the sellout. I couldn't walk the streets in my uniform without having the urge to yank it off. The eyes on me were overwhelming as hell. Do you know how much pressure that can be on a person?"

"I—"

"So one day, I made a decision," I carried on with my speech, still not acknowledging the fact that he had something to say. "I wasn't going to waste my time being open with those who were talking shit behind my back. I tossed any stupid new notes away without reading them, put those horrific first weeks behind me and tried to focus on the main reason I applied to Zavlon. Don't expect me to run to you, Rav and Camila with open arms just because it was nothing but a situation that brought us together and certainly don't expect me to think everything is not going back to normal after all this. I'm sorry I tend to presume more than I should." I swallowed back the quiver that was working its way up. I had managed to yell this long without faltering and wasn't about to be betrayed now. "But screw you if you don't think these 'meaningless words'—words that every Zavolonian who said it clearly meant it by the way—had anything to do with it. D'you understand me, Dorian? Screw yo—" I didn't register what cut off my speech until a few seconds later.

   Dorian had interrupted me mid-sentence by grabbing and pulling my body into his. His arms travelled to my shoulders and the small of my back, encircling them as he leaned into me.

"You didn't let me finish," I said. My heated face frowned at the position he'd yanked me into. "Not everyone can be white, grouchy and hateful like you are all the time and still be liked."

"I know."

   But his arms remained unrelenting, having the same level of force around my body since he had interrupted my speech to drag me to him in a caged embrace. My first attempt to pull away was enough to let me know I'd be wasting my time trying to elude him again.

"Beth, I'm so sorry." The impact of his words, though formed into a whisper, was sufficient to do a number on my throat.

"Don't pity me," I mumbled into his chest.

   He either seemed not to hear what I had just said or responded instead by resting his chin onto my hair and clutching me tighter.

   The cold air that came with being on the rooftop escaped. Every inch of my thoroughly hugged body was replaced with savoury warmth and an amazing skin care scent which made it difficult for anyone to not lean into the source.

"Don't expect me to cry." This was my last—pretty feeble—attempt at making him repel. I didn't want to get sucked in. "I'm not going to."

"That's okay," was his simple reply.

   I took the risk of closing my eyes and taking a breath to calm my raging heart. After doing so, the secret wish to be immersed in his hold for a little while longer became more than a mere thought I could brush off.

"Don't expect me to let go yet." His remark could have easily been misinterpreted as threatening. "Because I'm not going to."

"That's okay."

A/N: That escalated quickly lol.
Whose side are you on in this argument though? Team Beth or Team Dorian?

If you ask me, they were both at fault XD.

This had to happen though. Long overdue, right?

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