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The bell rang loud signalling the end of the day. Turning from the board, Combeferre took in the sight of his twitching students, eager to leave and begin their holidays. They’d worked hard and were a good lot – always pretending to be amused by his stupid puns and quietened down when asked. He couldn’t ask for a better class.
“Alright, everyone” He began, moving to his desk and putting down the board pen he’d been using. “You’re free to go. Don’t forget to submit your biology reports online, please!” His request fell on deaf ears as students ran to the door and chattered loudly among themselves about the summer ahead. Combeferre smiled fondly and leant against his desk, arms crossed as he watched them file out. “Eponine, don’t forget to take your books back to the loans room” He reminded, grinning as the girl waved an arm at him absentmindedly as she continued her conversation with Cosette.
Pushing himself off the desk, Combeferre rolled his shoulders and clicked his neck. Maybe he’d ask Joly for a quick massage later, he was always telling him that he was too tense. He pulled off his jumper and undid his cuffs, pushing up the sleeves to his elbows to show dark arms covered in colourful ink.
“I didn’t know you had tattoos, Sir” Combeferre turned and smiled.
“Surprised you haven’t gone along with your friends” He smiled. The boy – Rene Coufeyrac – grinned and shrugged.
“Marius was mooning over Cosette again. Didn’t fancy sticking around to hear the rest of it” He sniggered, pushing himself up to sit on one of the vacated desks at the front of the classroom. Combeferre smiled and leant back against his own desk. Marius’ infatuation was clear to anyone and everyone seemingly, except Cosette. Even Combeferre had had trouble keeping Marius’ attention on his work instead of the girl to the right of him. Marius was a good student, always did his work on time and did as he was told, but Cosette was brilliant. Combeferre had no doubt her dream of studying biology at the top university in the country would come true in the end.
“So anyway, tattoos Sir? What else’ve you been keeping from us?” Courfeyrac grinned, the glint in his eyes giving away that he would not let this conversation drop any time soon. Combeferre rolled his eyes and smiled. Truthfully, he enjoyed Courfeyrac’s easy conversation and excitable presence. It wouldn’t be the same once his year had graduated on to higher education.
“If I told you all of my secrets, I’d have to kill you” He smiled, secretly pleased when Courfeyrac let out a loud laugh. He liked Courfeyrac’s laugh. It was always honest and deep. His dark skin flushing with mirth as his head tips back, dark brown curls bouncing as his body vibrates with laughter.
“Okay, okay!” Courfeyrac grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. “Your secrets are safe! But c’mon you’ve shown the artwork, now you’ve got to explain it” Combeferre sighed but smiled as he pulled the sleeves of his shirt up further, fully exposing his right forearm. On his wrist was a small but brilliantly detailed image of a moth, with description lines and details written around it. He had found it in a textbook a few years ago and had fallen in love with the detail immediately. Covering the rest of his forearm and leading up to his bicep were flowers – Begonias – inked as if watercolours had been painted and left forever on his skin. Combeferre was a man often drawn into deep thoughts and so the flowers suited him perfectly. The reds, whites and yellows blended together perfectly. A true work of art on his dark skin. Courfeyrac whistled in appreciation.
“Nice” He nodded, eyes sliding from bicep to forearm without hesitation. “That’s gotta be Feuilly’s stuff, right?” Combeferre’s eyebrows rose slightly, though in truth he wasn’t too surprised at Courfeyrac’s knowing Feuilly. That boy seemed to know everyone in the city personally. Combeferre nodded. “Yeah he’s pretty talented. My friend Jehan – do you teach Jehan? – Anyway, he went there the other week. Got this quote from the Illiad done on his collarbone. ‘There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—“
“Magic to make the sanest man go mad’” Combeferre finished with a smile. Courfeyrac grinned.
“Didn’t know you knew the Illiad, Sir”
“What did I tell you about my secrets?” He answered with a smile, pulling his sleeve back to rest in the crook of his arm. Courfeyrac rolled his eyes with a grin and nodded.
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’d have to kill me” He laughed, swinging himself off the desk and shouldering his bag. “Anyway, Jehan’s probably waiting so I should go. Have a good summer, Sir”
“You too, Courfeyrac” Combeferre smiled, watching as the boy bounced to the door. He stopped suddenly and turned his head, grinning widely.
“When we get back you’ll show me your other tattoos, right? I’ll be 18 then” He laughed, giving Combeferre one last wave before pulling open the door and escaping into the now almost empty hallway. Combeferre smiled and rubbed his eyes. That boy would be the death of him, he was sure. September couldn’t come fast enough.