CARNIVORE [MxM+]

Chapter 3 [Revised]

Alexei Abbots.

STUDYING IS MUCH HARDER THAN IT LOOKS.

It's such an endless and irritating cycle that, at this point, thinking about studying is harder than actually studying. At first, I'm so invested in what I'm learning because it's learning and it's interesting, yet somehow I'm too targeted on the conversation happening across the coffee shop that I shouldn't be listening to at all, and now I'm back to square one-- trying to get invested in the first place. 

I can't help but throw my hands up in irritation, my pinky clipping the corner of my laptop's screen and pushing it back. That's it, I don't care anymore. 

I pick up my phone and try to turn up the volume of my music even though I know it's maxed. I know the volume is at its peak because that's my seventeenth time this hour alone trying to turn it up. I can feel my heart rate speeding up in frustration, the coffee cup next to me begging to be crushed. I'm angry that I like my coffee cold, because something hot would better match my current tempo.

I shut my laptop with enough force to shake the table (hopefully not enough to shatter the screen) and let out a quiet sigh in frustration. All at once, I'm hit with all the doubt that's accumulated over the past three years of this damn degree, and just like that, I want to quit. For a second, I feel the need to cry, so I do my best to remind myself that I'm in public. I swallow the upcoming panic thickly and remember what Dr. Salem told me. 

So I pick up my phone and stop my music. The silence is deafening, but I do my best to ignore it and make my way to my contacts' list. I make a call before I decide it's best not to. The answer is nearly instant. 

Riley Worthwright. The love of my life answers the phone, and I can't help but untense at the sound of his tired voice."Hey, love. What's up?"

I feel myself melting. The feeling is so distracting that I forget I need to reply to him.

"Oh, uh, not much. I'm just stuck at the café. Is there anything you want while I'm here?" Riley's low laughter comes to life, and I visualize him in front of me in our bed, chest shaking with happiness. My bad mood softens. 

"Slow down a bit, Alexei. I just woke up... But, if you could, just a coffee would do well, sweetheart. Thank you, that means a lot." I smile at his request. I'll save the debate on dark or light coffee for later. 

My eyes shift to the line at the front desk. It's busy. I'm surprised I was lucky enough even to get a seat. "Done. Thanks for answering, Riley. I love you." 

I didn't want to cut the conversation short, but his presence gave me a newfound strength. At this moment, I felt like I could do anything-- especially study. Efficiently. 

"I love you too, baby," he lets out a yawn. "Oh, and one more thing."

I shifted in my seat, pushing the phone closer to my ear to hear him better. "What's up?"

"You're okay, Alexei. I believe in you." My body warms at his words. Of course, he knew. He always does. 

"Thanks. Thank-... Thank you." The call ends, and I shut my phone off. Although the doubt still runs rampant, I can't help but consider his words. Because when has Riley ever been wrong? 

... 

It's nearly four hours later (around eleven a.m. now), and I'm walking out of my beloved coffee shop with two coffees in hand and my earbuds in. I decided on hot for him, cold again for me.