Rings of Saturn | h.s. soulmates au

Rings of Saturn - 2

September 26 - Afternoon

It was amazing how quickly midterms were creeping up; Harry felt like just the other day he'd been marked and only yesterday was the enormous Seeking party his frat brothers had thrown. Harry's roommate--Robbie--and his fat mouth got around quick as soon as he caught Harry checking out the celestial object seared into his skin, and hardly thirty-six hours later, half the girls on campus were lined up on the party floor, tipsy and giggly as Harry was passed from one to another until early morning.

But the weeks went on and slowly the novelty of Harry's mark wore off, the other boys no longer interested in his latest conquest in the name of discovery or sitting around the firepit with beers on weeknights discussing The Search, as it was referred to. It probably didn't help that Harry was hardly interested in who marked him, constantly steering conversation away from both the investigation into every college girl's Instagram within a thirty mile radius and the actual meaning behind the mark that now permanently adorned his skin.

Bloody Saturn?!, he'd get caught thinking late at night when Robbie's snoring and an overactive mind kept him awake.

Was she an astronaut? Or some kind of martian sent to abduct him and bring him to her leaders for invasive probing on the ringed planet? Or maybe she was meant to bring him home; Harry had always felt sort of otherworldly...

On his most sleepless nights, Harry found himself looking up local Seeking Seers. A lot had been said about Seeking Seers in the news--they weren't to be trusted, were known to feed bollocks to their customers to cause panic (and a boom in business), and tended to prey on those with low self-worth along with a desperate need for validation in the form of love.

But, Harry reasoned, he wouldn't fall victim to their schemes; he had faith whomever his mark belonged to would be revealed when the time was right. He just wanted some sodding insight on what the damn mark meant.

Yet every sleepless night was followed by a bright morning and a demanding day that didn't allow him to pursue his midnight musings. Every week, his presence in the studio increased along with the amount of acrylic and turpentine splattered onto his jeans. Monoprint II was no joke, and combined with Painting III and Typography I, Harry had no time at all to understand what the hell was going on in Astronomy. He had already missed two of the required four nighttime observations, a fact that the T.A.--or T.A. Phoebe, as Dr. Day liked to call her as if "Teacher's Assistant" was her first name--made sure he knew when he handed in his quiz at the end of class.

She'd looked down her nose at it, her chestnut eyes deftly scanning the page and pursed her lips--which, Harry couldn't help but notice, were quite pretty.

"In addition to being behind on night time observations, all your answers are wrong." The sound of her voice was flat, bored almost, as she handed back his quiz.

"Right, about that..." Harry started, pinching the back of his neck awkwardly as he dodged her accusatory glare. He snapped his gum and watched as she rolled her eyes before continuing. "Didn't really understand that whole Keebler Orbit thing."

"We discussed the Kepler Orbit problem all last week in the library during my study hours--"

"--Yeah, see I'm usually pretty alright at Maths, so I thought I'd be good without, but I think yeh need a bloody Calculus degree to do these equations--"

"It's Algebra."

Their eyes met, an intense staring contest transpiring between them. Phoebe was annoyed; she couldn't stand it when students had the audacity to complain about their ignorance whilst they chose to skip her study sessions. Harry, on the other hand, was slightly amused at the fierce glare she affixed him with; maybe it worked on the other students, but this too-serious grad student didn't scare him.

"Don't ream the poor boy too badly."

Dr. Day's interruption brought an effective end to the staring contest, both Harry and Phoebe breaking their gaze at the same time, shaking their heads. He took the offending quiz from Harry's hand and glanced over it quickly. "Hmm, yes, it does seem your performance is quite abysmal."

Harry snorted a laugh at the old man's bluntness, a reaction appreciated by Dr. Day as he smiled and chuckled himself, emphasizing the disheveled hairs of his moustache as they stuck out wildly over his lips. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, returning the quiz to him.

"I do encourage you to see T.A. Phoebe in the library for her study sessions. She may be small, but that brain of hers is quite large."

Harry caught the way Phoebe rolled her eyes, but quickly composed herself as Dr. Day looked back at her kindly. He nodded to both of them before slowly turning as he made his way out of the planetarium.

"Professor!" Harry called before he got too far away. Reluctantly, Dr. Day stopped. "Sorry--it's just--I'm sorry. Do you have office hours? The study sessions don't really work with my schedule..."

Dr. Day sighed, appraising Harry from head-to-toe, his eyes focusing on a particularly bright splotch of paint on his grey Chelsea boot. "Artist?" he asked, eyebrow quirked expectantly.

"Yeah," Harry replied with a smile, thinking Dr. Day understood.

"Do yourself a favor and don't become a starving one. See T.A. Phoebe during her study session on Saturday."

Harry stood there as Dr. Day left the room, trying to understand the insult his professor had just leveled him with.

"Fucking useless," he heard Phoebe mutter under her breath as she packed up her books and stacks of quizzes. Harry couldn't help but smile, knowing she wasn't adding insult to injury and was instead frustrated with the absent professor.

Maybe he would check out one of her study sessions...