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( October 1978 )
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THE DAY AFTER LIBILLULE SENT HER LETTER TO REGULUS, HE FINALLY BROUGHT HIMSELF TO READ IT. Why couldn't she just obey his request and leave him alone?
He marched himself to her usual seat in the Great Hall and slammed the paper that had been written in perfect lettering right in front of the girl who had been peacefully minding her business. She blinked back a flinch and gazed her big magnified eyes up at him.
"I told you to stop writing to me," he glared at the expression on her face that didn't seem to falter one bit.
"And I told you I didn't care," she shrugged putting her pen behind her ear. "And you shouldn't be so demanding, someone might actually listen."
"Don't tell me what to do."
Libillule sighed turning to him, "I knew you were going to say that. It's a bit hypocritical of you to tell me not to tell you what to do just after you told me to stop writing to you." Her sarcasm stamped itself with a smile. He clenched his jaw at her words knowing she was, in some form, right.
Regulus crossed his arms over his chest, "Then you're mad if you think I'm going to continue to write you back."
"I can't help but feel as though you don't want me to write back, but I can't tell because your beauty is distracting me," she teased with a sparkle in her eye putting her chin in the palm of her hand.
His ears began to turn red at her effortless flirting, "don't do that, someone might think you're being serious," Regulus mumbled like a child. She giggled at the pinkish tint that overtook his pale complexion.
"There you go being demanding again," she dramatically sighed while he rolled his eyes. "and Reg, I am being serious, you're quite the pretty boy," she admitted truthfully. Regulus was the kind of boy people fawned over. Chiseled cheekbones that seemed to have been crafted by a sculptor, dainty hands that flitted over every page he turned, lean stature with a chin held high at all times. What was there not to like?
He scowled at her, "don't call me that." His attitude. That's what there wasn't to like.
"What's the magic word?" She batted her naturally curled eyelashes at him and for a moment he could've sworn he felt what seemed like a moth to be fluttering in his chest cavity searching for a light to cling to. The light being Libillule of course.
He curled his lip at her. "If I call you a bitch will that help?"
Dupont let out a beat of a laugh in his face, "and they say romance is dead. Reg, you truly are quite the charming man. Be careful, you might actually make me fall for you." She concluded by closing her design notebook.
He furrowed his eyebrows at her retreating frame, "where exactly are you going?"
She turned on her heel showing all pearls beneath her lips before she exited the Great Hall.
"To write you a letter specifically because you told me not to!"
