Teacher's Pet ( Radioapple )

Worn Thin - Part 30

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Alastor woke up to the unwelcome sensation of a pounding headache. Groaning, he rubbed his temples and reluctantly decided to push through the discomfort and go to college. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching as he tried to shake off the lingering pain.

Dragging himself through his morning routine, he quickly dressed and exited his room, running a hand through his unruly hair. As he stepped into the kitchen, he was greeted by Niffty's concerned gaze.

"Are you going to eat something?" she asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

Alastor waved her off, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, Niffty. Really."

Niffty exchanged a worried glance with Husk, who was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee. She silently pleaded for his help, and Husk set his cup down with a sigh.

"Alastor, you should really eat something," Husk said, his tone firm. "You don't want a repeat of what happened last year."

Alastor stiffened at the mention, his eyes narrowing as he gave Husk an almost angered look. "It won't happen again," he said curtly, his voice edged with irritation.

Before Husk could respond, Angel emerged from his room. He took one look at the tense scene and raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"Alastor is refusing to eat," Niffty explained, her worry palpable.

Angel looked Alastor up and down, his brow furrowing. "I haven't seen you eat in a few days, Al. Is something going on?"

Alastor avoided Angel's concerned gaze, shifting uncomfortably. "Are you all ready to go?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject.

The trio exchanged glances, clearly not satisfied with Alastor's evasion, but they let it go for now. "Yeah, we're ready," Husk said, grabbing his bag.

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They arrived at college, the morning air filled with the chatter of students and the distant hum of traffic. Alastor, Husk, Angel, and Niffty made their way to their first class of the day. Mrs. Velvette's history class flew by in a blur, the minutes slipping past unnoticed as Alastor's headache persisted. Mr. Vox's math class followed, but Alastor barely registered the numbers and equations, his focus splintered by the relentless pounding in his skull.

By the time Alastor entered Mr. Ozzie's science class, the dizziness had set in, making it difficult to concentrate on anything. The room seemed to spin slightly, and Alastor felt a wave of nausea wash over him as he took his seat. Mr. Ozzie's voice droned on, but Alastor struggled to keep up, his vision blurring around the edges.

The class dragged on at a painfully slow pace, every minute feeling like an hour. Alastor gripped the edge of his desk, trying to steady himself as the dizziness worsened. Finally, Mr. Ozzie approached, his expression one of genuine concern.

"Alastor, I can tell you're not feeling well," he said softly, crouching down beside Alastor's desk. "You're allowed to skip staying after with me today."

Alastor looked up, gratitude evident in his tired eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Ozzie," he murmured.

As Mr. Ozzie returned to the front of the class, Fizzarolli, who had been sitting at Mr. Ozzie's desk, glanced over at Alastor with a concerned expression. The memory of last year's incident was fresh in Fizzarolli's mind. He remembered how close he and Alastor had been, and he could see the familiar signs of strain and exhaustion in him.

Alastor, feeling the weight of Fizzarolli's gaze, gathered his things and slowly made his way out of the classroom. As he stepped into the hallway, the dizziness intensified, and he leaned against the wall for support, taking deep breaths to steady himself.