Troye's pov
I did end up going to the academy. That is after Jacob rode me about getting an education. He had said "It's the most important thing for a bright soul like me right now!" Which only made me scoff in reply. He is the one that dropped out, that much he told me. He refused to speak up more on the topic so I assumed it was a touchy or a personal one.
And so I survived the day avoiding, just barely dodging, the ten percent of the student body that are my old mates. I spoke when spoken to and kept to myself, quiet as a fox as I did my work. I even made sure to press down lighter than usual with my pencil on my paper, concerned that it would be a nuisance to the other students around me. Even if they were all fooling around themselves and being as loud and noisy as a usual teenager would. Most of these fools won't know what to do in a few months when they do turn eighteen and have to fend for themselves.
Well, most likely, most of them won't have to. They will cling to their home, their parents, suck them dry of their money for another few years until they're forced to move out. Or maybe, just maybe, if they're lucky they can stick around with mommy and daddy until one of them up and leaves. Or one of them passes, leaving you to deal with your depressed parent for the rest of your days until that one leaves too, only this time, for good.
Sorry, I guess I can be a bit bitter about the bloody idiots around me sometimes.
As I got home to Dad and I's flat, I dug through my coat pocket for my key and pulled it out with slumped down shoulders. It's been a long day. I stick the key in the lock and twist open the door, tired eyes growing exhausted as I spot the criminal waiting for me on the couch.
"Haven't you got better places to be, Bixenman?" I sigh, nudging the door closed with my ankle and leaning back against the wood.
He smiles, shaking his head no.
"Someone's bitter," He murmurs, folding his hands in between his spread out legs.
"Someone should have slept last night." I correct him, pointing a finger up in the air.
I push myself from the door and trudge to the couch he's sat at and fall down face first on it a few centimetres away from him. I turn my head to the side and look forwards at the old telly Dad and I haven't used in ages.
"Don't let me hold you back. Get some sleep, T." He whispers, his fingertips gently tickling my neck.
"Thank you," I mumble, fluttering my eyes shut.
Jacob then softly runs his hands through my hair and gently massaging my neck, edging me further into unconsciousness until I fall down into a deep sleep. In fact, his hand must have never left my body because as I woke up hours later, I still felt the tender tickle of his fingers in my ringlets.
I breathe in deeply, opening my eyes and looking up at the boy to see him passed out, his head fallen to the side against the sofa. A sweet smile finds my lips and I pull out my phone, swiftly capturing a photo for later. This, this I want to paint.
Being as careful as possible, I remove his hands from my body and get up from the couch without waking him. I'm willing to bet he hasn't eaten yet today, and that makes two of us. I keep my voice to a minimum as I quietly sing the words to one of my new favourite songs, making my way to the kitchen. When I say new, I mean it came out hours earlier today, at least when it was still light out. Zara Maria's album dropped today along with a music video with the extraordinary Clean Bandit. The song is magnificent, to say the least, and the video, me oh my did it hit home.
"I just wanna be part of your symphony," I drag out my last word as I sing out in the kitchen, digging through the cabinets to find a frying pan.
I'm not sure what he likes and dislikes, but I'm sure he'll be fine with eggs. Everybody likes eggs.
"Will you hold me tight and not let go," I utter as I find the perfect sized one, setting it on the stove and jumping to the refrigerator to gather everything else needed to cook our meal.
"Symphony, like a love song on the radio."
"Will you hold me tight and not let go?" I sing as I crack a few eggs over a mixing bowl.
I then sing the chorus over again, not sure of the rest of the lyrics yet. It's new to me, okay.
Soon enough the food is prepared and I'm walking out to the living room with two plates and a glass of water. I left Dad a plate in the fridge for if he decides to come home early tonight. A strong part of me believes, knows, that he won't though. Finding myself quite surprised, I see Jacob sitting upright with a cheerful smile etched to his face.
"You've got quite a beautiful set of chords." He compliments as I set down his plate and glass on his lap.
I sit down next to him with my plate set on my lap.
"You heard me?" I ask shyly, a tinge of pink flushing my cheeks.
He nods, muttering a thank you for the food and digging in.
"Why didn't you accompany me in the kitchen?" I ask suspiciously and take a bite of my food.
Jacob wipes his mouth and sighs contently.
"You'd stop singing then," He murmurs.
He's not wrong.
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a/n: I ended this abruptly because I'm a tired pup, my apologies. nighty night you all, see you in the next chapter. byyyye xx
