Greenhouse || Xavier Thorpe x Male Reader

ice || chapter 14

The morning after the Rave'N, I wake up to a cheery record on the record player and Xavier drawing at his desk.

"You're up early," I remark. "It's not even eight, and it's a Sunday."

"I know, I hope I didn't wake you up," he says. I shake my head.

"Nah, I'm a pretty sound sleeper. Sketching something?"

"Yeah. I only slept until about six, and I've gotten into a habit of drawing my dreams," he explains. "Want to see?"

I nod and walk over to his desk. The sketch isn't colored, but I recognize it as himself in an atmosphere filled with different shapes.

"That's a really good sketch," I tell him. "Is it colored?"

"Thanks. The colors are supposed to be different shades of red, like the decorations at the Rave'N."

"Oh, wow. That probaby looked menacing," I say.

"No, actually, somehow it looked less like blood and more like just decorations. But I can see your point," he replies.

"Now I wish I could remember my dreams."

I sit down on the bed behind him and watch as he finishes the sketch. Then, he puts down the pencil and sits next to me.

"So, what are we doing today?" he asks. I shrug.

"Most likely nothing much. Enid and Wednesday will be sleeping in, Ajax also won't get up until two, and I don't really know who else to socialize with," I respond. He looks at his watch.

"We could skate later on today," he suggests, "Bianca said the ice is thick enough now."

"Yeah, that sounds great. We should probably wait until it's not below freezing, though," I point out.

"I doubt that will happen anytime today. There's skates in the boating hut, so we don't need to worry about that either."

"Fine. Let's go."

We put on our coats and scarves before leaving the dorms to head for the docks. The hut is unlocked, and inside are several pairs of skates. When we both have a pair of them, we step out onto the ice. I may not be good at ballroom dancing, but skating is something I've done since I could walk.

The ice, surprisingly, doesn't break as we skate out onto the lake, holding hands. Scarves trailing behind us in the wind, we coast along the ice. I bring one of my feet backwards, and zig-zag across the ice.

"Wait up," Xavier calls. I slow down. He takes longer strides across the ice to catch up with me. When he does, he breaks into a smile I hadn't seen all day. My small sunshine. "You're amazing on skates."

"Makes up for my lack of talent at ballroom dancing," I tell him.

"The only person who actually cared about that was Wednesday," he reminds me, "and she's not here right now. So forget about her, okay?"

"Yeah. She's not here."

~=~

After about an hour of skating, we return the skates to the hut and go back up to our room, red-faced and cold. When we get there, I take off my coat and scarf and immediately hide under the blankets of my bed. It's so much warmer compared to the freezing cold outside. Xavier sits down at his desk and continues to work on the sketch. I take one of my blankets and wrap it around myself like a cocoon before sitting behind him on his bed again.

"No blanket? Aren't you cold?" I ask him. He shakes his head.

"I don't get cold that easily, and Weems finally got around to installing heating in the dorms," he explains.

"Oh. I'm still freezing, but I think I just run cold."

"Is that why the greenhouse is always at about 100 degrees?" he asks jokingly.

"Yes. The plants tend to like it warmer during the winter, and so do I," I respond. "Your art shed doesn't have a thermostat, so you're safe from me bothering you while you paint."

"I wouldn't mind you bothering me," he says. I get up and wrap my arms around his shoulders, staring at his drawing.

"Then I'll just bother you now," I tell him. He turns around and kisses me before returning to his art.

"This is probably the best form of bothering that exists," he remarks. I laugh and run my hands through his hair, slowly turning it into a small braid. "You know I'm going to forget my hair's in a braid and walk outside like that, right?" he asks.

"Yeah, but it doesn't look too bad," I say. "I would have put it into two braids, but Wednesday would have sued us for copyright infringement."

"I doubt she'd do that. She'd just kill us," he corrects me.

"Can't have that happening," I tell him, taking out the braid. "I guess your hair looks better down anyways."

He laughs and kisses me again. The fire of that morning in the greenhouse hasn't died, but it has gone to a more subdued form. It's gone from a burning flame to a small fireplace, full of comfort and warmth. We're more at ease around each other, freer to laugh and feel emotions. It's balanced and calm, but also fragile. It can tilt back and forth, leaning into the flame or into the cold, but that's healthy. If we tiptoe around it, trying to keep it perfectly balanced, it will just burn out. It needs the breath of cold to calm it down, but also the more intense heat to keep it from fully extinguishing. But for now, I'm happy to let the fire burn and chase the cold of the air.

~=~

The school seems to be abuzz like flies on an electric flyswatter. Yes, the Rave'N was over, but that didn't stop the gossip about it. Everyone has something to say about it, be it the dance itself or the people at the dance. Thankfully, people seem to focus more in their own circles of friendship, so no one is talking about Xavier and I like I had been afraid of. We are able to get through the crowds of people and sit down with no real issue. Sooner or later, Wednesday and Enid found us with Ajax trailing behind them.

"Everyone's talking about the dance," Enid says. "It's kind of disconcerting. I hope they aren't talking about us."

"Oh come on, Enid, they all have their own cliques to gossip about," Ajax tells her.

She frowns. "Then why are they looking at us?"

I look around and see that some groups have turned to watch us. "They're probably just curious. I mean, I think that half the school thought Wednesday and Xavier would date," I respond.

"I'm not sure why they would think that," Wedesday says in her usual monotonous voice. "I never showed any form of attraction toward him, or anyone for that matter."

"I guess they thought the 'snarky goth girl' and the 'tortured artist' would do well together," Xavier remarks. She nods.

"Luckily for you, I'm not into tortured artists."

I watch the people slowly turn away as they see there's no drama at our table. The fact that we're all in communication with each other and not arguing seems to bore them, and I can't help but shake my head at that thought. They would rather we fought over sexuality than have a stable friendship because it provides them with something to watch.

"People have stopped looking at us, by the way," I tell the rest of the table.

"Finally," Enid sighs. "I can't stand everyone being so judge-y."

"Well, unfortunately we're not really in a position to not be judged," Xavier says to her.