𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐘 || A Narnian Autumn Writing Challenge (Oneshot Book)

19. Lost Boy

experiment house // october 27, 1948
prompt: "sick"
word count: 5,078

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A/N: Hello yes I realize this is a year late, I’m just gonna let the word count speak for itself on that one :)

I cared too much about the concept of this oneshot not to do it correctly, but they shall resume their usual length (I hope) for the rest of the month.

Welcome back to Entropy! And happy October~

xXx

"That's not how you spell frequently," Eustace muttered under his breath, scribbling out the word and spelling it again more carefully as the yellow electric lamp flickered overhead, its faint pinging hum invading his aching senses.

He sat back and rubbed his throbbing eyes, swallowing with a wince at the raw scratchiness still lingering at the back of his throat.

If anything, the head cold he'd been trying to ignore for the better part of a week was only intensifying with every night he spent hunched over his desk trying to finish homework that swam before his eyes.

He spun his pencil in pale, slender fingers and sighed as he scanned his latest attempt at coherent english: a few lines of sharp, slanting handwriting on an otherwise empty page, floating like foam atop the sea of abandoned essays.

"Dear Aunt Polly, thank you for the compliments, though I'm not sure I deserve them yet. I'm curious about the book you recommended, and to hear how your own writing is coming along.

I apologize if this letter is short, I have been ill rather frequently of late and schoolwork has been dull, so I—"

He snatched the page and crumpled it into a tight wad, tossing it into the bin as his shoulders convulsed with the involuntary shudder of a suppressed cough.

His pencil cluttered apathetically to the desk as he ran his fingers through his hair, pressing both palms hard into his eyes in an attempt to stem the pounding headache behind them.

One of his bunkmates snored.

A glance over his shoulder told him two of the boys with whom he shared his room had already passed out on their hard, flat mattresses. The third had apparently snuck out at some point—probably to his sister's room in the girls' building.

Curfew was at sundown, but Experiment House for all its improvements had not yet mastered the art of controlling students after hours.

In theory, sneaking out could get you expelled. But first they had to catch you, and of course they never did.

Eustace drew his hands down his face and pressed his comparatively cold fingers to his burning throat.

He sighed.

Ignoring the shiver that rushed through his body at the slightest movement, he stood quietly from his chair and aimed for the door, slipping noiselessly down the hall, expertly skipping every squeaky board down the stairs.

It wasn't as if he was going to get any sleep here, anyway.

He'd practiced this route countless times, even before Narnia, back when he'd gone running to the nearest authority figure at the faintest ache or pain, his soundless footsteps carrying him down to the dark kitchen where linoleum tiles reflecting dull grey moonlight from the ugly square window over the sink.