Carswell Thorne was what you'd call a womanizer.

And he wore the title like a badge of honor.

It's not that he was heartless, no.

He just really liked to play the field.

And he was damn good at it.

They were always already crying every time he leaned against the door frame, a pretend-apologetic half-smile on his face. "It's not you, it's me. Really. I'm just–"

"–not ready for a serious relationship right now. You see,–"

"–I really shouldn't be paying attention to girls–"

"–now that I have to focus on graduating."

It wasn't that every girl at the university didn't know the regurgitated excuses, it was just that they all thought they would be the ones to change him.

However, when he'd set his sights on her, it was over.

There were plenty of girls in the huge school who wanted nothing to do with him, and it didn't really bother him much. There was always fresh meat to choose from.

But she showed the very least amount of interest that any woman who was attracted to men ever could've.

Carswell was a junior in a mostly-freshman computer applications class (intentionally, of course). It was a prerequisite for the more advanced computer classes, but he was mostly there to scope out another new crop of freshmen girls.

She hadn't even looked at him when he sat down next to her on the first day.

"This class is going to be so easy," he told her, rubbing his palms together.

She just hummed in response.

He pursed his lips, "So, uh, what're you studying?"

The short girl with the bright blue eyes and miraculously long blonde hair – pulled into a braid over her shoulder – shot him a look, "I already–I already know all about you, Mr. Thorne. Please do not speak to me anymore."

"Oh, Mr. Thorne." He rested his chin atop a fist, "That's cute. I don't think any girl has ever addressed me like that before I've even introduced myself."

"I asked you not to speak to me," she warned, her eyes shifting back to the log-in screen on her computer.

Thorne bristled, but he wasn't going to give up just yet.

"Aces," Carswell breathed, eyes glued to the screen. "Why is this thing so damned specific? It's a fucking spreadsheet." He listed his head, his voice a harsh whisper, "Hey, Cress. Can you help?"

She was already logging off her computer, "I told you to call me Crescent, Carswell. Not Cress. Crescent."

"Don't leave." He furrowed his brow, "We still have forty minutes of class left. Can you help me, please?"

"We've been classroom neighbors for three weeks and the nicest thing you've managed to say to me is 'your chest looks great in that top', so I think you can help yourself." Her voice was sharp as she spoke and she grabbed her things, storming away.

Carswell let out a long groan and almost, maybe, perhaps… felt a little guilty, for once.

She set the hot cup of coffee on floor next to the table leg by her chair, switching on the computer and logging in.

As always, he waltzed into the classroom right after her. "Morning, Crescent."

Her shoulders tensed, "Carswell."

He sat down and wiggled the mouse to wake the computer, "I'm–I, um, I'm not–I don't really do this too often, but I–I'm sorry for being so rude to you, Crescent."

Cress's shoulders relaxed, but she was unmoved. "Wow. I didn't know the famous Carswell Thorne knew the definition of the words 'sorry' or 'apologize'." Finally, she glanced over at him, the smallest of smiles playing at the corners of her lips, "I accept your apology. Just–just, try… try not to be such a jerk all of the time."

Carswell cleared his throat, "I suppose I can try."

He dragged his fingers through his hair and stared at the screen, trying to figure out what the online homework application was asking him to do with the project. He leaned over to Cress, "You know, in all my years of schooling, I've never needed to use one of these things so thoroughly."

Cress gave a noncommittal grunt, "I'm assuming you have no idea what you're doing."

"Am I that obvious?" He chuckled, "I just – what even is a slide animation? What's the purpose? Sounds tacky."

She lifted an eyebrow and glanced over at him as soon as she pressed the 'submit' button. "You're having trouble with slide animations? Stars, you're hopeless, aren't you, Mr. 'This'll-be-Easy'?" She tittered, "Here, click on this." She started pointing to various buttons on the screen, showing the first signs of a positive attitude towards him since they'd met a month ago.

Cress had planned to get out of class early and stop for lunch before her next class, but it took until five 'til for her to help him finish up the assignment. Afterwards, he logged off and twisted his chair towards her. His voice was hardly above an excited whisper as to not draw attention to them, but he had a huge smile on his face.

"You just might be the best, Crescent."

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, "I-I know. Thanks."

It wasn't common for Crescent Moon Darnell to get out of her campus dorm on the weekends, but her roommate had convinced her and there was really no way around it.

Cress was a nothing if not a homebody, and so she was immediately struck by the chaotic atmosphere as soon as they'd entered the off-campus apartment that was being rented to a friend of a friend.

She stuck mostly to her roommate's side and pretended to drink whatever she was handed. They found a couch to sit on and Iko – Cress's more outgoing roommate – had a conversational partner already, leaving Cress to fend for herself.

She fiddled with the phone in her hand and looked around to see if she recognized anyone, but feeling more like she just wanted to go home.

And the worst of it was, she knew his voice the second she'd noticed it, and she knew he wasn't alone.

He came strolling into the living room with his arms draped around the shoulders of two model-esque women who were probably closer to his age than Cress.

She sank back into her seat. It wasn't like she wanted to see Carswell Thorne! Quite the opposite, actually. For some reason, the idea of embarrassing herself in front of him was the worst daydream she could muster. It's not like he was important, or anything. He was a jerk.

She didn't want him to notice her, but it was too late before she'd made up an escape plan.

"Crescent! Is that you?" He dropped his arms from the two girls and muttered something to them, causing them to roll their eyes and walk away. He swaggered over to her and plopped down on the living chair next to the couch, all charisma and casualty. "I never expected to see you in a place like this!"

Cress swallowed hard and nodded, "And I'm not at all surprised to see you."

He shrugged nonchalantly, "What can I say?"

She glanced nervously back at Iko, whose back was still turned to her, and then around again to Carswell. "Shouldn't you be seducing some poor girl into thinking you actually care about her? You know better than to think I'll fall for your tricks."

His charismatic smile faltered, "And here I thought I was making progress with you. We could be friends."

She cocked an eyebrow, "Friends? Look, I tolerate you in class and I help you when I have time. That doesn't make us friends."

He watched a red tint cover the bridge of her nose and grinned again, "What? Afraid you might fall in love with me?"

"I don't fall for heartbreakers," she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Don't you think you can change me?"

"I'm not naïve." She narrowed her eyes at him, "You really are heartless, aren't you?"

Carswell chuckled and sat back, "Well, no. I just… haven't found the right girl yet."

Cress rolled her eyes, "And you're not going to find her like that."

"Like what?"

She shook her head at him, knowing that he knew exactly what she meant and turned away, pretending like there was something interesting on her phone.

He frowned and, disappointed, got up and left to go, well, somewhere else.

Cress eyed him as he sat next to her. The atmosphere around him was still as egotistical and arrogant as ever, but something about him was different.

He gave her a weak smile, "Morning, Crescent."

"Morning," she muttered, barely moving her lips. "I haven't seen your usual gaggle of girls lately."

He shrugged, "I lost interest."

"I'm not surprised."

"It's not like that."

"Does it matter?"

He bristled, "Yes."

"So, I'm supposed to believe that you're different all of the sudden? You're unchangeable, Thorne." Something about him had certainly changed over the last three weeks since their short rendezvous at the party, but she wasn't optimistic.

The corners of his lips turned downward, "Am I?"

It was another party, another weekend, with midterms behind everyone. It was time to loosen up before reality caught back up on Monday, and Cress was not permitted to be left at home.

She stood with a group of friends, taking small sips out of her solo cup, interjecting into the conversation whenever she saw fit, but mostly keeping to herself.

She caught his eye when she was doing another sweep of the room. He was talking with one of his friends, not a girl within five feet of him (and only because it was a rather small apartment for the amount of people there). It was almost unnatural. She watched him say something to his friend and then start making his way toward her.

Cress quickly turned back to her friends, her eyes wide. She really, really, really, kind of… maybe didn't want to talk to him.

He tapped on her shoulder and she started, turning toward him, "Carswell!"

Carswell swiveled his gaze across the small group of her stunned friends before his eyes rested in hers again, "Can we talk?"

She shot her friends a nervous look but finally agreed, and they decided on outside. There were still people out there mingling and smoking, so Cress wasn't really nervous about that.

He pressed his shoulder into the brick of the apartment building and gave her a crooked smile, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry, for real."

Cress brushed her gaze over him. He just looked so good with his white shirt and black leather jacket and just barely disheveled blond hair and–

Cress stopped herself before her mind could go on. The fact of the matter was that he wasn't very bright, but could do so, so much better than her – a computer nerd who hadn't been around a pair of shears in maybe five years. Right at the moment, it was fish tail braided to the side, the tips of her hair brushing her waist.

"Why are you sorry 'for real'?" She asked, her arms folded over her chest.

He stared down at whatever was in his cup, swirling it around, shifting his eyes up to meet hers, "I know I've been an asshole to you since we met, and I'm not sure how to make it up to you, but I'd like to try."

Cress's laugh was abrupt, "What? What are you talking about?"

"You're great, Crescent." He lifted his head, his eyes crashing into hers, "Really great. The best, actually. And I don't–I don't know, I kind of like you, I think. I haven't had feelings that were genuine like this since high school, and I went and got my heart broken. I'm a little afraid, honestly." He ended his mini-spiel with a weak chuckle.

She studied him for a moment, from the tense crease in his forehead to the set of his jaw. She began to giggle, "Oh, that's just… that's wonderful. You really got me for a second there, Carswell. You almost had me believing that I, inadvertently, changed you! That's cute. That's a good one."

His face fell, "You don't believe me."

"Can you blame me?"

He shook his head.

She threw a glance around.

Carswell sighed.

"I should believe you, shouldn't I?" She finally muttered.

He shrugged, his eyes dropping to his feet.

Cress knew it was stupid, knew it might've been just him getting better at his games, but something inside of her said that it wasn't. He was being honest. "Th-thank you," her voice hiccupped on the first word and she concealed the embarrassment with a sip.

He said nothing.

"So what if I do believe you? What, then?"

He cleared his throat, "Well, maybe, next I could… I could take you out?"

"A date," she said succinctly.

"If you want to call it that, yeah."

She smiled, "Unbelievable. Okay, fine. You take me out. But I'm not going to play your game. If I so much as think you're playing me, I'm gone."

Carswell chuckled, "I can understand that. So, it's a date?"

She nodded once, "It's a date."

Author's Note: This is SO TROPE-Y. I'M REALLY SORRY. I'M SO SORRY. I wrote this one for tlcshipweeks, too! Unthemed, but ye. I wrote it in like three hours, so if it seems a bit rushed, that might be why... heh.