Our Little Secret: Loveless [BxB]

˚₊‧꒰ა CHAPTER 6 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[James/George]

~22 October 1930, Tuesday~

 song: Livin' la vida loca, Ricky Martin

(Two weeks later)

˚₊‧꒰ა ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[James]

My curtains are closed, but the room is still dimly lit because of the sun. A ray of sunlight shines onto my eyes, I groan and turn around.

Five minutes later I stand up and take a cold shower. 

I take my uniform out of the closet. It's custom-made, in order for it to fit me. All the other sizes are too small. Sometimes being this tall is fucking annoying.

Someone knocks. I open the door to see Chris on the other side. "You look like shit," He states, looking me up and down. "You are shit," I reply, closing the door behind me.

We walk into the Great Hall, finding Thomas and Alejandro sitting and talking about god-knows-what. Chris and I sit down next to them. I grab a few slices of toast and begin to eat. After 'recovering' for four weeks, I can finally eat without throwing it up. 

Luca finally walks in and sits down next to Thomas. They talk a bit, fucking around.

Jack and Henry sit down opposite of us and Nate comes in after them, dropping his bag on the floor and taking place next to Henry. 

A tired-looking George comes up to Nate and plops down. He slumps forward and puts his head on his elbow. I focus on my toast instead of glaring a hole in George's head. There is no use in just looking at the back of his head anyway.

After a few weeks of hanging out, George's friend group and mine became one big group. Jack, Henry and Nate are pretty cool. Jack and Henry were already part of the group, well, not entirely but we hung out every once in a while. And Nate is a nice guy.

But it also means George is there all the fucking time. And he's annoying. So instead of just seeing him during classes, I see him twenty-four seven and it's beginning to make me rethink the murder option.

"My god, I hate Mondays," Alejandro looks equally tired as George, also trying to catch up on the sleep he misses by leaning onto Luca, much to his dismay. So he leans on Chris instead.

"You've told us every single Monday, for five years." I look him straight in his eyes, not blinking. He begins to laugh, "You look like a demon, mate," 

"Ha. Ha," I reply, going back to my toast.

Finally, the bell goes off and we all walk to our classes. First, Maguarian History. The teacher had decided to start on the project early, giving us enough time.

George sits, half-asleep, at his desk across from mine. Since the room is a half-circle, we sit on opposite sides. 

Henry is poking George, annoying him and trying to get a reaction out of it. "Henry, switch with James," The teacher says. Fuck this. This is the second class I have to sit next to him and I'm getting tired of it. Groaning, I stand up. Henry and I walk by each other as we move seats.

I sit down and listen to the teacher. After a few minutes, I feel something heavy on my shoulder. George has fallen asleep. On top of me.

I push him back and he falls to the floor—just like last time.