Chapter Text
The quiet babble of the library could lull even the most attentive students to sleep, though not recommended by the instructors that keep watchful eyes across the campus. Muttering incoherently to yourself, you pushed through the crowded stimuli of scholars in the grey archive slowly but surely finding a table to set your papers down. Not caring much, you spread out your assignments and works fiddling around with the arrangement of how to proceed with working, even with more than half the library not even bothering.
The lazy Friday afternoon seemed to exhaust even the most diligent of workers that cradled them in the arms of plush couches scattered around the establishment. Your eyes wandered around the seemingly grey room, searching for any type of inspiration, a light of hope even, in the lifeless dull area. Grey was far too common a word to describe the Akademiya. More potent words, like soul-sucking, or despair filling were more appropriate, but you always seemed to resonate with grey. Grey…
Almost as if on cue, a streak of grey obscured your vision and you yelped out of surprise to see one of your classmates, Alhaitham, appear out of nowhere. A hush from the librarian ushered an apology from you, and in response, you glared at him. In turn, his emerald green eyes bore yours, a small scratch from the chair moving back was his reply.
‘You’re finally working on your assignments? I’d be surprised to see you finish everything in time for the exam on Monday. You seriously need a reminder on how to be punctual.’ His slick deep voice remarked on your inability to be diligent with your work, and you scoffed. ‘Good afternoon to you too, Alhaitham. And maybe if you didn’t pester me all the time I’d actually be finished with my assignments. Thanks to you, I now have a whole essay due before the end of the day today. Don’t start smirking now, I’ll prove you wrong if it’s the last thing I do.’ Almost immediately, his snide smile contorted back to his usual indifference, rolling his eyes as his retort. ‘Mind you, you’re the one who decided getting into an argument with me was a wise choice. You know my persuasiveness is not to be ogled at.’ In spite, you ripped out one of your lined sheets of paper, took out a quill with ink dipped in it, and as if you were about to start the essay, your hand scratched the first thing that came to your head.
‘Screw you? Seriously, even Kaveh would have better retorts than that. That’s saying a lot.’ Your mind boiled with anger at the seemingly stoic man, how dare he compare you to that lousy architect? Firstly, neither Alhaitham nor Kaveh had one idea of what it meant to be an artist. The one thing Kaveh prides himself in is the very opposite on what art should be. Something so mechanical such as structures couldn’t be considered as art. Too planned, you thought. Art should be free, working on the canvas should be different to sculpting with clay, as to dancing on the stage. It should convey feelings, emotion, even in one simple swoop on a paper. How could bricks in formation ever compare?
You rolled up the paper you wrote on and threw it to the researchers head. Usually, he would duck to further infuriate you, but he let it bounce off his head almost pitifully as it rolled back on the table towards you. A degradation meant for the man beside you somehow landed right back at you. A sigh that shook with fury escaped your lips, and you smashed your head into the table at the cycle that you created. You whispered thoughts of affirmations to yourself, hopefully trying to convince yourself that the man sitting beside you now was only a pipe dream, that by the time you lifted your head, he would only exist within the borders of deep sleep and hyperactivity. If only escaping the feeble scholar was this easy. Slowly peeking up from the table, your gut wrenched as you saw the classmate you called friend unassumingly reading one of the books he’s brought with him. Out of exasperation, you smacked it and started scolding him on how annoying he was when he could have just left you be. His smile was hidden behind that same book as you continued ranting for archons knew how long. This was going to be a long afternoon, and he didn’t mind it.