Eyes like bubbly (Spamano/Gerita)

Chapter 8

"Well who flipping decided it would all equal zero anyway? Maths is a man-made thing, Emma! That means some spawn of Satan literally looked at some numbers and thought: oh Jesus, you know what sounds fun? Quadratic flipping equations!"

However, no matter how much I ranted, it still elected no response except the sound of a dying seal- which I soon found out was Emma, lying on the floor, apparently laughing so much that she needed  to hold her sides.

"Godammit Emma! This is not the time for mermaid dancing! Who flipping made quadratic equations because I am going to consult David Tennant- because he's the best flipping doctor- and ask him to take me back in time in the TARDIS, and then we'll all be like 'do weee dooo' and then, whoop, out the TARDIS to literally stab the guy who made these flipping equations!"

"It's... not that... hard..." I heard through raspy breaths, before the lady who currently looked like she'd been bar-hopping since 2:00am burst into another spat of laughter.

Suddenly, the door slowly creaked open, and I can honestly say I've never seen anyone get off the floor that quick. The atmosphere in the room suddenly went from a hearty warm feeling to ice cold anticipation, and I realized that in that moment, this is what it felt like to be in the presence of a dementor.

Emma had gone from what looked like a drunk, stoned, idiot on the floor to possibly the strictest teacher ever, and even if she wasn't wearing glasses, she still pushed them up her nose. I held in my laughter.

As the door opened, I put my head down and pretended to work- emphasis on the pretended. Without lifting my head, a saw from the corner of my eye the figure of Grandpa Roma standing in the doorway.

"Lovino?" He said, and I glanced up.

"Yeah?" I replied, eyebrows raised in mock innocence.

"Can you keep it down? Feli doesn't feel too well."

I nodded in agreement, and prehaps the arch in my brow revealed a hint of worry. Grandpa explained.

"Don't worry. It's just a cold." He laughed, and with that, the door was shut.

I turned to Emma. "How come I get all the blame? You were the one laughing."

She snorted. "You were yelling!"

I scoffed, and stared down at my book and the sheet I had been asigned. The first few had been done, but were all probably wrong. Scowling, I began to work through the next question, but all my numbers kept getting muddled up. Soon, instead of staying still on the page, they had begun the swim, and I only noticed why when the page became damp from a tear that had left my eye.

"Aww, babe!" Emma gasped. "Are you crying?"

"No." I muttered, trying to wipe the wetness from my eyes secretly- to no prevail.

"Hey, no, hun! Shh... it's okay..." Emma whispered the empty words, but in this particular moment, they soothed me. The lady held me tightly, stroking my hair. Finally, she let go of me, pulling up a chair from another desk and sitting down sincereley.

"Okay. Which bits don't you get?" She began, running her eyes over the questions I had already done.

"The factorising." I mumbled, pointing to the many angry scribbles out near the third line of working out.

"Well, how about we start on a new one? Lets get a clean sheet, no messy scribbles, and work through it together?"