Abroad - Klance

1: In Which Lance is Bored

We back in business, y'all.

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Bored.

Lance was bored.

He was usually this way.

Every day seemed to be routine, and Lance hated it.

His eyes scanned the classroom, looking at the colorful posters, little phrases written on them in his home language.

Lance was bored because nothing ever changed in his life.

Lance was bored because he lived in a quiet town, where the most exciting thing that happened was the ice cream truck actually showing up down your road.

But mostly, Lance was bored because this school required the completion of a language course. He had originally been hell-bent on taking ASL; he was adamant.

However, preceding the start of school, the teacher had resigned.

So for the past two months, he had been stuck in a class that had been teaching him the language he had grown up with.

Somehow, the school did not know of his dilemma, and so Lance stuck with it.

Hey, less work for him, right?

He was pretty impressed with himself, having come this far without giving himself up.

But there was still that underlying buzz of boredom. Everything was always the same.

Notes, notes, practice, here have some homework, more notes, study, test.

And frankly, it was damn annoying.

Lance hated repetition.

Usually, he was on his phone during class time, but this was different. They were taking a test today.

He finished it in 20 minutes and stared up at the clock.

He had 60 more minutes stuck in the room with nothing more to do, and the teacher wouldn't let them take out other things to work on.

She was so sure they would somehow cheat.

Lance rolled his eyes at the thought.

He hated his teacher.

She had a shrill voice, and she looked a little like a pigeon.

She always used the phrase, "If I was your mother..." and policed their behavior like they were children.

She was damn annoying.

He didn't feel like mulling over how much he wanted to hit her with the stupid green packet of their "emotions" unit, so instead, he laid his head on the table, closing his eyes, willing himself to take a nap.

Sadly, after ten minutes, sleep did not come to him.

So he instead turned his test over to the back and started sketching.

Lance wasn't a prodigy by any means, but he was pretty okay.

When he was drawing, he often put himself on autopilot, sketching whatever came to his mind.

This time, it was a boy.

It was a boy, and he was beautiful.

He had a deadpan expression, looking slightly to the right side of the paper.

"Are we all done?"

Oh.

Lance looked up at the blue analog at the front of the room.