rose tinted hours

low tide

Monday morning and here I am, missing out on my classes, struck with a sore throat and an invisible ax sticking out of my head.

Maybe the only nice thing about today is the man craning over me in the dark, feeding me porridge.

That, and the overly-sweet tea.

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there's a soundtrack for this one! completely optional, of course.

queue: 

==> new home (slowed), austin farwell 

==> dreamcore, daniel.mp3 

==> farewell, erikson jayanto 

==> october, adrián berenguer 

==> parfum d'etoiles, ichiko aoba 

==> i was only temporary 2 u, my head is empty 

==> might start singing - sped up, sheldon charlot

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The figures in front of the dorm converge in front of Jean's car as they engage in some sort of conversation. Sasha (I think that's Sasha) slinks around Jean's taller form and attaches herself to the side of his car, being scraped off a moment later.

Unsticking myself from the window, I carefully reposition the dark blue curtains so that no light filters through, the simple action causing my head to swim as if filled with honey.

I got Jean's flu. Which, obviously, is to be expected, considering what happened yesterday. Paired with the fact that we slept together last night.

As in, laid down and fell asleep in the same bed with nothing strange happening in between. Whoever came up with that wording needs to be shot.

Contrarily, Jean is perfectly fine. And despite all the urging that I'll be fine too and that he shouldn't skip out on classes, he'd insisted on staying right here.

Not that I'm complaining.

I glance at the red numbers projected onto the corner of the ceiling indicating the time as I sit back so I'm leaning against the wall. 8:28. Almost time for my first class, which I won't be going to, as so firmly put by Jean before I shooed him away.

"If I come back here and the room's empty, I'll make Connie march into Hospitality with a condom pulled over his head with your name written on it."

He'd do that, too.

Running my hands over Jean's fleecy Cars blanket, I find and unlock my phone to type a quick message to Sasha.

me: sorry sash,, not coming to hospitality. i got sick :(

me: jeans staying home for me tho. dont wait up <3

Pray she doesn't get the wrong idea.

sashacado: dw about it!!!

sashacado: 😏

I shut my eyes as the screen induces a sudden wave of dizziness. Alright then. Knowing her, everyone and their mom will know about this before the day ends. I toss the phone somewhere on my bed and it falls to the ground.

Jean, where are you?

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He nearly barrels into an old lady in the soup aisle. With a profuse apology, he continues half-jogging to the fridges, glancing at the list on his phone.