Hearstopper from the edit room floor

Assignment angst

A slight AU short! I hope your all having a wonderful start to 2024! and a great January
Hope you enjoy this one: Nick helps Charlie with some stress he's been under then they celebrate 
Let me know your thoughts ideas all the rest of it PLEASE x 

Nicks POV

It's Wednesday evening and we have finished varsity rugby training early for the day. I am waiting for Charlie to come home, sitting on our bed in our room that we share with our flatmates. I am peacefully reading over some lecture notes and listening to some music. Thankfully, the music is on low volume so I can hear everything around me. Suddenly, the door to our room flies open with such a loud bang that I think it is going to fly off the hinges. I stop my music as Charlie walks in, letting the door shut with a thud behind him. He throws his bag on the floor and steps out of his shoes.

Silently, Charlie crawls onto the bed and flops down next to me, giving me a brief kiss on the cheek. Something is off, way off. "Hi," he says, but it is somber, flat-toned, angry, and not the usual greeting I get, especially on Wednesday when we both have a half-day. "Where's the fire, Char?" I ask, seeing Charlie visibly frustrated hurt me. "Franklin and his fucking research in context module," Charlie says hotly.

"Ah," I say, scooching forward and winding my arms around Charlie's back. I rest my head on his shoulder. Charlie is currently studying for his undergraduate dissertation. There had been a research module in their third year that the entire year group had struggled with. The communication had been terrible, incorrect information had been given left, right, and center, and everyone had produced very different assignments. As I would later find out, many of the class had failed.

But that "ah" seems to open the floodgates of Charlie's rant. "The old codger, first of all, didn't make the word count clear. It was one of these three-part assignments, and his words, not mine, but my work was apparently not satisfactory," Charlie sighs, leaning forward in our hold and running both hands through his hair. He grips it tightly, knowing this is a way he self-regulates, but it is a form of self-injurious behaviour he never got rid of. I silently untangle his fingers gently from his hair and shuffle around the bed to face him, taking his hands in mine. His head stays ducked, and silent tears drop down his cheeks.

"Charlie, baby, can you look at me?" I say, gently and slowly lifting his head up to make eye contact. "It's totally fine if you are, but are you telling me you failed the assignment?" I ask, wiping away a few stray tears from his cheeks. Charlie nods at me through a wall of frustrated tears, rubbing his eyes. "I haven't failed anything since fucking school, Nick! Everyone keeps saying how easy this would be because I'm Charlie brainbox Spring!" he sighs, hearing his frustration at the moment. I can't help but pull him into a hug.

Franklin Cozart is known as a "harsh marker" throughout the university. That man took no prisoners when it came to grades. My cohort had him for our undergraduate dissertations as well when he taught a brief stint at Leeds, and I think I still had nightmares. I had never been so frustrated over an assignment as I was with his. Suddenly, I stand up, pulling out my phone. "Hey, Dixy? Can I get a large pizza with everything, two tubs of Ben and Jerry's, and a few of our usual sides? Yeah, Charlie's here too. Ten minutes? Great, see you soon," I say, hanging up the phone and throwing it on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asks through a sniffled nose. "Ordering dinner for my boyfriend because I cannot be bothered to cook. Also, what's the plan?" I ask. Charlie looks at me confused. "I don't feel much like date night tonight, I'm sorry, babe," Charlie sighs, flopping backwards.

"No, I meant a plan for your resit. I'm sure we can at least make a plan together tonight," I say. Obviously, studying was the last thing I wanted to do, especially when Charlie was feeling this way, but I needed Charlie to see that all hope wasn't lost. Charlie slowly propped himself on his elbows. "You'd really... help me?" Charlie asked, almost confused. It made me want to rugby tackle him into the bed.