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~ 𝐀𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚 ~

Amara ignored Peter the entire way to Charles' office. She didn't listen to him taunt her, and she certainly didn't look anywhere in his direction as they turned down the hall and descended the main staircase.

They both stepped into the office and plopped down in the two chairs in front of Charles' desk, just like they had a hundred times before, and waited.

It wasn't long that they waited. Or, at least, it wouldn't have felt that way if Peter kept his mouth shut. But, of course, his blabbering continued on, and on, and on, until once again, Amara snapped.

"Do you ever shut up?"

"So she speaks!" he exclaimed.

"Of course I speak. Just not to you."

"Why not?"

"Because it infuriates me."

Peter shrugged, twirling the lollipop in his mouth. "Feeling's mutual."

Amara crossed her arms and kept her gaze straight ahead. The quicker this went by, the quicker it would end, and the quicker she could be alone.

She counted the minutes until the Professor came - and it was many more than she had previously suspected it would be. Except, when he did roll in, she heard the same disappointed sigh she did every time, and immediately couldn't wait for this to be over.

"Oh... children, this is the third time this month!"

"It's June eighth," Peter murmured with furrowed eyebrows, and Charles raised his own.

"Exactly my point!"

Amara watched in her peripherals as Charles closed the door and wheeled himself over to sit behind his desk. She could see Peter sitting comfortably with his arm resting over the back of his chair and his ankle resting on his knee as he bounced it away, and his ability to give less than two shits about getting into trouble seemed to only make her angrier.

Charles sighed again and rested his folded hands on his desk in front of him before giving Amara a disappointed look, then turned to Peter to give him the same.

"What happened this time?" he asked, and the both of them instantly leaned forward.

"He was being a fucking dick-"

"I was not!"

"Aya, the language, please."

"He did it to get me mad again because he enjoys getting on my last fucking nerve, and doesn't know when to just mind his own business and leave. People. Alone!"

"Why is it such a terrible idea for you to go out and enjoy a movie for a day?" he retorted, throwing his arms out. "You're not gonna get kidnapped or anything, you're too powerful for that!"

She glared at him. "Maybe some of us enjoy time with ourselves instead of having to deal with idiots-"

"Alright, alright," Charles sighed, putting his hands up. "Children, I have to admit I'm running out of options here! What am I to do to get you both to at least look at one another and not want to strangle each other's throats?!"

"Get him to move to Antarctica."

"Find a way to get rid of the stick up her ass."

Charles huffed, but his voice was slowly beginning to rise. "Do I have to treat you like five-year-olds? Put you in a timeout corner? You're both about to be eighteen years old, so it's about damn time you grow up, get past your differences, and move on! It's not hard!"

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