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Columbina padded through the halls of the dorm building. Where the hell is Arle?
She had woken up in her dorm to the absence of her dearest, making it her mission to find wherever the girl crept off to (and maybe get a glass of water or two).
As she approached the common room, she spied a shock of white and black hair crouched over her keyboard. A grin came unbidden, as Columbina feigned yawning and stumbled into the room, slumping ungracefully over Arlecchino's chair. The black eyes of her girlfriend were focused purely on her computer, shining a filmy blue light over her face while she clicked away at the keys. The time at the edge of the screen read 3:24 AM, a horrendous time to be working on a project (and an unfortunate reality for college students). Columbina observed the scene, groaning at the harsh light as she hid her face in the back of the wooden chair.
Not very comfortable, but desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
"Arrrle, let's go back to bed..."
Columbina jumped (more like slogged) up from where she was and walked over to Arlecchino's (probable, considering the massive block of text and wires she was considering) line of sight, punctuating her sentence with the best puppy eyes she could muster.
Arle's eyes flickered up to Columbina, brow raised in a faint show of amusement, then dropped back to her screen. "You know I have to finish this paper, dear. Mr. Nuveillete’s assignments are important, and it’s rather imperative to complete his work as soon as possible."
Columbina pouted at her. "Oh come on, since when have you been the kind to forget assignments? And the project's probably far away! It’s due in like," she leaned over and clicked the classroom tab in Arlecchino's browser and glanced at the date, "...fifteen days??"
She slammed the computer down, eliciting a surprised yelp from the user, "absolutely not! You are not sacrificing precious sleep for an assignment due in FIFTEEN days, darling, and I mean it!"
Arlecchino yawned. "I suppose I am a tad sleepy..."
"Exactly!"
Columbina grabbed the sleeve of her girlfriend's nightwear, dragging her out of her chair and out of the common room. The taller girl followed her dearest defeatedly back to the room with the laptop safely under her shoulder, the hallways echoing with a faint whisper of the chiding Arle will soon endure (until her girlfriend gets tired and swoons into her arms.)
. . .
Childe stood in a forgotten corner of the common room, clutching a cold box of Pizza Pockets.
"Damn, these bitches gay..." He mumbled sadly, chewing on a frozen bit of the food.