Work Text:
Marius knows staring isn’t polite. That’s been drilled into him since his childhood, a harsh whisper followed by a smack to the head when he spends too much time looking at anyone who catches his eye while out in public. Bad manners, disgraceful—he’s heard it all.
And yet, he’s still staring.
He can’t help it: she’s really pretty. Her hair is a pretty auburn with waves that seem to go on forever and a high-cut shirt with tights under shorts that show off her legs which—well, she’s got to be an athlete, and—
He’s not staring. He totally isn’t. That’s entirely what he tells himself when she meets his eyes and smiles at him so that he goes bright red. Marius tears his eyes away and focuses firmly on his coffee cup, bending the cardboard cup sleeve flat and then popping it back up again. By the time he’s folded it over multiple times and started to tear it apart, he figures she should be gone or at least have found herself a seat.
He doesn’t expect for her to be standing right next to him.
“Ah, sorry,” she says immediately, blowing gently on the cup she’s cradling between her hands. “I just wanted to ask—everywhere else is packed, in this seat taken?” She nods toward the chair across from him. Marius flushes and shakes his head.
“N-no, it’s—no.” Her grin is bright when she sits across from him, settling the cup carefully on the slightly wobbling table. Marius dives for his bag next to him so he can pull out something, anything to take his attention off of her and not look like such an idiot. He manages to come up with a sharpie and his math notebook. Spectacular.
“Are you all right?” she asks, and she sounds like she genuinely means it. Marius rubs the back of his neck.
“I, um—yeah, I just…” Her smile is a little crooked.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to sit,” she says and immediately makes to stand. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No!” Marius blurts out. “I just—it’s just that you’re um…you’re really pretty.” Her eyes widen a bit and she sits back down.
“Well,” she admits, “that was not was I was expecting. Thanks.”
Marius runs a hand through his hair and cringes. “God, I’m sorry, I’m really, really bad with girls and then I’m really awkward and great, now I’m just rambling at you and—sorry.” He drops his head to his hands and sighs. She chuckles.
“Well, if it helps to try and start over—hi, I’m Lily Courfeyrac, thanks for letting me sit across from you.”
“Marius Pontmercy,” he mutters, still mortified by his behavior, “and it’s um, my pleasure. Really.”
“What are you working on?” she asks, gesturing to his notebook like he’s truly doing work and not just flailing about.
“Er, well… not technically anything,” Marius admits, tucking things back into his bag and pulling out his Latin notebook instead. “But I should do my Latin work.” Courfeyrac studies him for a moment.
“Pardon my asking, but are you in high school?” Marius flushes.
“Yeah,” he admits, and feels stupid because of course he can’t pass as a college kid, and here is this gorgeous girl who’s at least a year older than him putting up with him regardless.
“It’s nothing against you,” she says quickly, “I just don’t want to uncomfortably flirt with a sixteen year old or something.”
“I’ll be eighteen in half a month,” Marius rushes. He should be embarrassed by his eagerness, but a pretty girl has just said the word flirt in relation to him and, well, he can’t quite help it. “I’m a senior.” The way her eyes roam over him make Marius feel exposed. He’s not sure he minds.
“Well, in that case,” she says, and it’s half a whisper; there’s a sparkle in her eye, “you’re ridiculously cute yourself, and I don’t just mean adorable.” Then she has the nerve to wink, and Marius is sure he’s going to faint because girls, when Courfeyrac pulls his notebook over. She grabs a pen from her own bag and scribbles her phone number down.
“Text me,” she says lightly, and then she gets up and practically skips away, leaving Marius distracted the rest of the day.