three: dans and deans

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Sitting outside the Dean's office was, in my perspective, a great way to spend the last few minutes of the morning.

However, my comrades didn't seem to think the same.

"This is your fault." The brunette grunted, her floor-length black skirt shifting around her light legs as she lifted her left one over her right.

"As true as that may be, you were never asked to shut me up." I pointed out, shrugging. "So I could've been chilling here alone if y'all hadn't chimed in."

"We're obliged to, considering the amount of sound leaving your mouth." Quincy remarked, his eyes wholeheartedly focussed on the painting that hung on the dark, wooden walls, in all of its uninteresting obscurity.

"I like you more," the girl mentioned, pointing at Quincy.

"I do too," he deadpanned.

Sighing softly, I let my eyes wander around the small waiting area, its wooden walls insulating every bit of comfortable warmth that floated around the room. Sunlight surged in from the window to the right, and other than the potted plant that rested on the table below the strange painting, the space was relatively empty.

Silence hung thick over us-the eerie, unsettling kind that invades every horror movie, right after the character asks, "Who's there?" and, after that moment of intense, expectant quiet, is greeted with a face full of death.

I wasn't quite in the mood to die today. Not yet, at least.

Not ever. My subconscious piped up.

But there was nothing I could do. Both Quincy and the unnamed girl-who I'd briefly considered calling the Acrylic Wonder-kept their mouths stitched shut, the rage being breathed in faster than it could be forced out.

Frowning, I slid my phone out, eager to reply to Noah.

"That's how all of this started," Quincy muttered, still staring at the painting. "Do you really think you should be using it right now?"

"Noah and I have very important things to talk about," I replied swiftly.


blue-eyed beast: sent an image.


I furrowed my brows, tapping the picture before I could decide otherwise. A flashy toothed Noah appeared, along with another guy whose hair was combed over to the right, with marvellous brown eyes that radiated I am the cute guy in question.



blue-eyed beast: consider yourself played with ;)

me: sent an image.

me: don't mess with me, son.

shit-face: did you really just change my name?

me: HELL YES



"Then call the kid up," the girl huffed. "Serious things aren't meant to be discussed over text."

"He's kidding," Quincy informed her, taking his eyes off of the painting to stare at the door of the waiting room. "He and his boyfriend are bantering."

"He took a selfie with the guy sitting next to him at his information thing," I hissed, rolling my eyes, only momentarily cringing at the word 'boyfriend'. Before I could finish my performance off with a signature huff, I burst into laughter, clutching my phone tightly in my hand.

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