Pessimist

2 - Praise

I have a weird obsession with needing validation.

It doesn't matter who it's from or what it's about, any sort of praise fills up my entire day with joy. It's probably due to the raging neglect I felt as a child, and the constant well of emotions that always erupted from me when I was never told how proud I made someone.

That kind of sounds like I was a spoiled brat, one who had everyone and everything. One who was always taken care of, was surrounded with ever growing love and content.

I guess, in some sort of weird way, I felt like I was spoiled when I had the chance to move away from it all. Not many people had the same luck as I did, and so not many people were spoiled like I was.

Alas, the first week of university was doable. I understood the material and was fortunately making my way around campus to every lecture and tutorial with ease. Though, I was still having trouble sleeping, often staying away 'till three AM before my eyes gave out from the utter exhaustion of the day. What would have made it perfect was if Dean tried to show up to the classes we were in together. But he never did.

I didn't know if he was avoiding me or if seriously could not make it, and something told me the latter was the most likely cause

I wasn't worried. He could take care of himself well enough and I didn't know enough about him to think otherwise, but a small feeling of concern did pass through my head every once in a while whenever I glanced at his empty desk. Dean was in another one of my classes, the criminals' state of mind, and since the tutorial was set up like a classroom, it was fairly easy to see that he didn't show.

Still, I tried to keep a smile on my face and get through the day the best I could without crumpling under pressure. University was hard, especially during the last year, and I was determined to make it through with a degree in hand and a job that would sustain me.

It was when I was walking out of my last lecture did I see him; out in the grassy fields leaning against the same tree. Though, something else caught my attention this time. His hands. Or specifically, what was clutched in them.

A notebook.

Strange, I thought. He seemed to be glued to his laptop like gum but I might have judged too fast since his notebook was ratty and worn, looking like it was used a hundred times over.

Debating on whether or not I should walk up to him left my mind the minute he caught my gaze and glowered. Even sitting against a tree, he seemed to gleam his negative energy and to be quite honest, it was attractive if not intriguing. He was an asshole, but not an asshole, if that made any sense.

Grinning, I made a steady path up to him before he could get up and move away. Bending down slightly, I rested my hands on my knees and looked down to notice his head already tilted up, watching me with interest.

"Hi, Dean." I said softly, his glare cutting me short. The shift in the air made me think something had happened to him on his days away, the unsettling feeling of him being hurt or in trouble growing deep within me.

He didn't speak for what felt like years, his fix remained on my face as his eyes filtered over my skin. Heat was pooling in my stomach but I brushed it off. I patted my backpack, continuing on the lovely conversation.

"I brought you notes from Professor Avalon's class. Figured you'd need it since you were away and all."

"I thought I told you to leave me alone." He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

I fake frowned, indulging in his blatant chatter. "Why? Is my company that bad?"

I didn't give him a chance to reply as I sat down right in front of him, criss crossing my legs with my hands clasped in my lap.