6pm.

It was 6pm and you had barely finished your homework.

It was easily explained though. In the last hour, when you should have been focusing on your mathematics' exercises, you had spent your time thinking about everything but that. But mostly, thinking about Warren, if you were to be honest with yourself.

It had been about figuring out his past so you could understand why he ended up with Apocalypse; what events had led himto take such a path in his life.

You didn't get answers, just more questions. But even though your mind was all about him, your eyes stayed clear of him. You didn't glance at him once and were proud of yourself. The only problem was that you hadn't work one bit, on the contrary of Jean who had made quick work of her homework and ditched you, minutes ago, to meet Scott. Like usual.

Ever since the battle, Jean and Scott had grown awfully close. They were spending a lot of time together: talking, training, joking. And probably really soon, doing more than that. And even though it saddened you to spend less time with your best friend,you were happy for her. Jean had always been rejected because of her powers, and she deserved to find happiness. Which she seemed to find with Scott, considering she told you the morning before that she fancied him. You didn't say so at the time but you had guessed it a few days ago, just by seeing the way she looked at him.You just had to wait now to see how long it will take them to finally act on their feelin--

You jumped out of our thoughts at the sound of someone clearing his throat and realized, quite incredulously, that Warren was sitting next to you, in the exact same chair Jean had been sitting on before she left.

The look of surprise that took over your face seemed to amuse greatly the mutant as a smile tugged at his lips and then disappeared just as quickly. Joining his hands on the table, he leaned on his elbows to look at you, his blue eyes searching yours. You barely had the time to register his wings spread slightly on his sides and the lines of his tattoos that he spoke.

"So, it's a thing," he said, dead serious, his eyes drilling into yours with such intensity that it made you gaze away, toward the couch where he had been sitting the last time you stared at him.

The couch was now occupied by three young girls talking in hushed voices and glancing not quite discreetly at a boy their age who was reading a book on a chair on the other side of the room. Peter was nowhere to be seen.

"What's a thing?" you asked, trying to keep your voice even and your cheeks from reddening. Only the former working.

You were clearly confused about the entire situation.Why was Warren talking to you? Did you have a new secret ability that made all your dreams come true?

"The staring," he answered, the corners of his lips moving upwards.

Well, so it wasn't a new ability. Or if it was, it was a shitty one. Because clearly, talking about the fact that you stared at people, and incidentally at him, was the last thing you would have wanted to be your first discussion about.

But at the same time, you felt vaguely relieved. The only reason he would say that would be because he had noticed you staring at another person but him. You assumed it was the teenage girl watching the television a few meters from you. You were pretty sure you had stared at her for longer than five minutes while you were thinking about Jean and Scott.

"Yeah, it happens to me sometimes, when I think about... things..."

You ran a nervous hand through your hair. Maybe saying that wasn't the smartest thing to do. What would you answer if he were to ask for more details? Trying to avoid this situation, you plucked up the courage and looked back at him, your eyes skimming over his spotless white skin, his blond curly hair shaved on the sides of his face and the black lines of his tattoo, which were both strange and mesmerizing.

"I'm sorry about that, by the way. I know I stared at you a little earlier."

"A little?" he snickered. "I don't think we have the same definition of what it means."

"I guess times fly faster when you're the one doing the staring," you couldn't help but say, a smile tugging at your lips in response to his.

"It would seem so," he answered, his eyes shining with amusement and something else. You realized it was curiosity when he asked: "What were you thinking about when you stared at me?"

The blush, that had started to fade over your cheeks,reappeared at full speed as soon as the question hit you and your heart tried to escape your chest by pounding hard and fast against it.

There was no way you could answer his question without him figuring out the truth. You were a terrible liar, always have been, and in these type of situation, when you have to find a good lie fast, you always messed up. And you did just that.

"Hmm, school stuff. You know, homework, classes, pens."

You would have facepalmed yourself right here right now if it hadn't been for Warren staring at you, wide-eyed. A startled laugh escaped his mouth, soft and musical to your ears.

"Pens..." he exhaled with a mocking smile. "I don't know how I should take that."

"I don't think there's a hidden meaning in it or a link with you really, it's just my brain... doing stupid things."

You were starting to fiddle with the pen you were holding in your hand, but when Warren noticed your gesture, you stopped. You didn't need to attract his attention to any more pens. In fact, it was time to throw every single one you had in the trash, so as to forget this awful moment.

"It seems to me that the hidden meaning behind it is that you just blurted out the first thing that came to your mind,"he said, reaching to take the pen out of your hand.

His fingers brushed slightly against yours, making you shiver.

"Am I correct?" he asked, twirling your damn pen in his fingers.

"Why would I do that?" you mumbled nervously.

Why indeed?"

He cast a playful smile in your direction before dropping his gaze on the mathematic textbook that was in front of you.

"Do you need help with that?" he asked, regaining his seriousness.

You followed his gaze to the textbook, relieved to change the subject. Your notebook was filled with unfinished theorems and you chewed distractedly at your lower lip. You could actually use some help to finish your homework, but you were fairly sure that if he was the one doing the helping, you wouldn't be able to concentrate at all. Especially after what had just happened. So instead of saying yes like your heart desired, you said:

"I think I'm good, but thank you."

"You're sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes were a deep shade of blue, ocean-like. And he held your gaze with steadiness and confidence, not wavering like you were. "I haven't seen you write anything for at least an hour."

If you were able to control the beating of your heart before, this simple sentence broke all of your control loose. Because it meant that while you were desperately avoiding to look at him, he did the opposite. And you would be lying if you said it didn't please you.

"It's not that I don't understand," you explained, choosing to say the truth. "It's just that my head is not really into it."

"Really ?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips."It's funny to see that thinking about school stuff prevent you from doing the school stuff that needs to be done, don't you think?"

There was an ironic undertone to his voice that dared you to contradict him. Which you didn't. Instead, you smiled timidly.

"Yeah... Funny..."

The two of you stayed silent for a few seconds,staring at each other. You, with red spreading on your cheeks, and him, his face a mask of impassibility. You wondered then if he knew. Not if you lied, because it was obvious he knew about that, but the reason you had lied: to hide your feelings from him. You were hoping it wasn't the case. Even though, you were quite curious too to know what he would say or do if he knew. And as if reading your mind, he leaned forward, opening his mouth to say something only to find himself interrupted by the abrupt arrival of Scott at your table.

The brown-haired mutant looked momentarily surprised by this unlikely duo, his gaze, hidden under his visor, passing between the two of you before stopping on you.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but do you know where Jean is? We were supposed to meet each other in the library at 6."

"I thought she was already with you, she left a few minutes ago."

The look of panic that crossed Scott's face made Warren rolled his eyes. You held back a smile while you reassured Scott.

"She might have stopped by her room or the bathroom, you know."

"You should go back to the library," Warren recommended while leaning against the back of his chair, his metallic feathers scraping against the rug as he did so, leaving a deep tear behind it. His eyes fixed on Scott, he seemed annoyed. "It's bad form for a guy to show up late to a date."

"It's not a date," objected Scott, but his gaze moved quickly to the clock above the television, to check the time,and he then dashed out of the room without another word.

"You're welcome, Scott," you muttered under your breath.

"Lovebirds," Warren said with a mocking smile."Kinda annoying."

"They can be, sometimes." you agreed. "But then, they're in love, and it's cute too."

"You're romantic." he stated, eyeing you.

You shrugged. "I guess so. What about you?"

He snorted. "I don't believe I am."

He ran a hand through his curls, making his biceps flexed under the short sleeve of his black shirt. You had already noticed his muscular frame before, but seeing it up close made your skin turn hot in a matter of seconds.

"Anyway, I'm going to let you work," he said,standing up and putting his hands into the pockets of his black pants. "But if you change your mind about my offer, I'll be in my room."

And just like that, he left, his wings folding in his back and the others students moving away from him precipitately to avoid the razor-sharp feathers.

You watched him leave, breathless, not knowing what to think about this entire conversation and more precisely about this invitation hanging in the air. You just knew there was no way you would put a foot in his bedroom, even if, technically, you knew it wasn't really his room, as it was the one he was sharing with Peter,Scott and Kurt. But still, it felt way to intimate to even consider joining him there.

With a sigh, you closed your notebook and your textbook. There was no way you were going to be able to do any work after that.