"You did well," Charles admits reluctantly, his face stony and his tone curt. As much as he tried to appeared unbothered by the rankings, he had scanned over the rankings with disdain and contempt.

Being second for the first time in forever had left him feeling rather bitter, though he would never admit such feelings, much less to you.

"You're just always little miss perfect, aren't you?" He mocks as he slides into the seat across from you in the cafe. It's strange; he has always found your intelligence almost attractive, yet whenever you surpass him in anything, it's just utterly unbearable and gives him seething instead.

"Still surviving off caffeine and no sleep? You'll burn out one of these days, you know?" And God would he love to see that day, he thinks almost ruefully to himself.