guilty of devotion - [dnp au]

2.:. sad boy // laila

- What's that? - I point at the list on his phone, directing my question to Jack in an inquisitive manner.

The curious-looking guy therefore looks up at me, rubbing his chin.

His innocent action reminds of Chris, my very best friend from Berkshire. Back home, he subconsciously rubbed his chin whenever the blond felt uncomfortable with someone perusing his appearance for too long. To prevent anything like so, I shift my attention to a ladybug crawling across my luggage. Until the Jack person launches into a chaotic monologue.

- Since I myself am a second and those had been provided with lists of our new students – that technically they're not allowed to but our college is running low on staff --, well, we're supposed to help people like you register and show them to their rooms. – he seems to never take breaths between words, agitating an odd form of anxiety in my bones. - To be honest your non-attendance freaked me out, you--. See, the first years typically kill time in the waiting room instead of hanging around the campus on their own, seemingly dreading to enter the building. If it weren't for my friend who suggested me to keep searching for, I quote, a fine hottie like you, at a specific point around 4 o'clock I would've given up entirely. But here I am. – Jack finishes proudly, rather accomplished to have followed the friend's suggestion.

I nod my head slightly, contemplating whether now is too late to get another taxi back to the airport and catch the next flight to anywhere but here, yet Jack stares at me like he's expecting a response just as detailed.

- Your friend, is she here with you? - I say the first thing that comes into my mind, watching the guy furrow his eyebrows at me, confused.

- No, I sent your picture to-- it's not-- Wait, is that-- Jack gets distracted by something behind my back while I keep sitting there still, my mouth hanging open. The restlessly moving boy beside me shakes his head no and stalls before rising up all of the sudden.

The opposite of organized to say the least.

- We should head inside before the registration table is taken down. – Jack grabs me by my elbow unexpectedly as I tilt my head sideways in hesitancy. - A few necessities to handle before we get to your room. – he tugs me a step closer to the entry of the frightening college until I give in and walk myself.

The hefty luggage I keep dragging along isn't making it any easier; I'm afraid my camera could hit some other object and break, which would be another disastrous way to worsen the day.

After all, this moving process isn't something I look forward to. Besides the strangely likable Sean-Jack person, the rest of this experience is too unfamiliar for someone accustomed to exist according to a plan.

In a pretty uncomfortable silence Jack and I walk to the main door of the college so I summon my courage all-together to approach the green haired guy like he so casually could engage in conversation with me.

- What are you studying? - I exhale roughly as Jack glances at me from my left and grins, likely kind of proud of me for having the guts to talk.

- I'm a filmmaker, though, we sort of are forced to do everything the rest of the media department does. Beyond the hard work, weekly video filming, which I, by the way, savor more than any other type of art, it is. Makes my life have a purpose, you know. – he says seriously as we make our way into the building with students pushing us aside to get through first. - Which department did you sign up for? – curiously, Jack questions when one of my, as of now, rude schoolmates accidentally elbows me in the face just to receive my famous death glare in the following seconds, before I attempt to ignore the fact that my gross expression was in that moment noticed by Jack.