The cold, crisp, Romanian air hit her skin almost as soon as she got rid of her top layer but she fought back against the shiver, hoping it would be worth it. She wanted more than anything for Lev to notice her. Mihaela was the type of girl who craved attention, she needed it to survive the same way she need oxygen but more and more lately she wanted it even more from him. There was something about him that made her feel anxious and nervous and excited all at once and she was addicted to the feeling. She never wanted it to end. She didn't fully understand the feelings that were constantly bubbling inside of her when he was around; the way her skin tingled when he brushed by, the way she missed his smell when he left a room, but she was beginning to. The more time she spent thinking about it the more frustrated she became, the more she wanted from him despite the fact that she didn't know how to tell him what she wanted. Mihaela never pulled punches, not physically or metaphorically, so sitting and waiting for something to happen was strange to her. It made her uncomfortable and uneasy and her choice of clothing was just one of many ill planned attempts to bring an end to the waiting.
Despite her own confused feelings the young Romanian knew she wanted to be around him. She knew she wanted him to stay in Scoarta, and in her room because she liked the scent he left behind, as much as possible. She knew she wanted him to hang out with her --and her only-- as much as possible. But even these feelings seemed to feel strange to her. She was an independent witch who didn't need anyone, especially not a wizard, to keep her warm at night. She had grown up strong and proud and completely capable of taking care of herself. Mihaela saw other girls falling over themselves for boys in school and she had always found them pathetic, needy, and weak; things she promised she would never be. Her feelings for Lev left her equal parts discontented and entirely enthralled. There was just something about him, despite everything, that always brought her back for more. Maybe it was their shared penchant for violence or how strong he was, or maybe it was his reckless side, it was difficult to pin point but never the less she was enticed by him. Even just being close to him made her feel excited, giddy even, but she tried desperately to hide it in hopes of seeming 'cool'.
After they had both prepared she fell naturally into a fighting stance, hands up in a defensive but flexible position the same way she had been taught for so many years. This was Mihaela's comfort zone. Some witches might of found studying, or fashion, or maybe even pleasant conversation to be where they were most at home and at their best but Mihaela Lupesco was a warrior to the core and fighting was where she belonged. She shined here in a way that she never would during lessons or at Durmstrang. She was so far from the most intelligent of her peers that it was nearly humorous but she had skills none of them could match. She'd been trained to survive and especially to thrive in one of the most dangerous places in the wizarding world and she was damned proud of it. Mihalea threw a punch toward him that he easily dodged, which only made her smile. If it had been anyone other than him she would of grown frustrated but she didn't want Lev to lose. The thought occurred to her just as he returned her advance, connecting slightly with her stomach as she tried and failed to move back in time. It was a strange conundrum she then found herself in as she barely dodged his blow to her torso, catching the remnant force of his punch but not the full strength of it. It was enough that she might have a bruise in the morning but not so much that the wind was knocked out of her. On one side she wanted to win, Mihaela was insanely competitive, ridiculously even, and she stopped at nothing to win things like this... but on the other side, she didn't want to know she was stronger than him. There was something inherently attractive about the fact that he could hold his own in her town. All of the other boys she had crushed on over the past year or so had always lacked one thing: they weren't warriors. Lev was and she needed him to stay that way in her mind.
But that didn't mean she was going to go easy on him either.
"Nice shot." She breathed out heavily as she moved away from him only to come back in sharply. She moved her feet, left in front of right quickly, in an attempt to trick him into thinking she was going to attack with a right handed stance. Mihaela wasn't book smart, she couldn't remember facts or history, but she could remember foot work. In her village they were taught not only how to put the most force behind a punch but also how to play against an adversaries intelligence. In Scoarta they weren't just fighting mindless spiders and wolves, there were real, legitimately intelligent, threats in the woods and Scoartans had to be able to out smart them if they wanted to survive. "You'll have ta' be quicker than that though, I aint no sissy." She taunted him with another wild smile on her face, a special glimmer in her eyes reserved specifically for combat. In a split second she sent another forceful punch toward his torso, a wicked smile on her face as she did. She really wanted her hit to connect but it was only partly because of her interest in the spar. The other part of her wanted to know how solid his muscles were.