Chapter Text
Whenever I walk into a room, and realise that he is in it, I turn to leave, yet he looks apon me will such pity I cannot bring myself to.
I do not enjoy being around him. He is brash. He is loud. He does not consider his thoughts before he words them. The bitter scent of weed and cheap vodka hang from the air that he breathes in. It sickens me.
I do not stay out of empathy, but sympathy. It is important to note the difference.
Besides, I have far too much on my plate to deal with him.
It was the twenty third of april, tuesday, 11.56, Room M37, main block, of course, and roughly 17ºC outside.
The SEN board had granted me a pass to leave lessons five minutes early. I protested that it is a simple waste of time, but in fairness, not much is done in the final moments of class, and besides, the added punctuality was a nice distracter from my extended behaviour records.
It was technically lunchtime, yet I had not been to the refectory on this day since year huit.There were far more important matters to be getting on with.
One the 18th of November, 2022, Madame Fantine had stuck a flyer to the backwall of her formroom, advertising an upcoming tuesday debate club.
Of coure, being the man I know myself to be, the next opportunity, the 22th, I dragged anyone who had ever dared to interact with me up to M37, to my sanctuary.
Naturally, as there was still four minutes left before the bell was to ring, I expected the classroom to be empty still. After all, the last class it was used for on a week 2 tuesday was period three.
Yet, as the air around me clouded and almost seemed to rot, based on the scent, I rolled my eyes. Of course. I couldn't turn back now. Stomach it, for debate club.
I slowly turned the handle.
Sureas, he was there. Turned away, something between his fingers and between his teeth.
"Hey, R." I sighed, dejectedly.
He whipped around, hiding whatever he was holding under the table.
"You know if you're going to do that in here, at least open a window or something." I mumbled, striding to the glass pane embedded in the wall, his eyes following me, seemingly in awe.
I clicked the latch open, allowing my lungs to take in a breath of untainted air.
"You shouldn't even be in here.You were supposed to be in M14, Law.And I doubt Monsieur Javert would not permit you to skip class." I spat.
"Monsieur Madeline did."
I had spent enough time around him to know that when he lied, he stared directly into my eyes and stopped fidgeting, to throw off the scent. I sighed. It was not worth fighting a losing battle.
"Why are you here?" He asked, horsely.
"It is lunchtime on a tuesday. When am I not, on a tuesday lunchtime, in M37 for debate club." I grumbled. "Where'd you even get that stuff, anyway?" I continued, gestering vaguely below the table.
"I know a guy." He stated, as if this were normal. I rolled my eyes, once again.
"Well, Debate club is starting in three minutes, so you bett-"
"I know," he cut me off, "I'm going."