Gods & Monsters

IV

'Good luck today. Don't disappoint.'

Jacov stares at the text as he finishes off his third consecutive cigarette in seven minutes. Fuckin' Timothee. Annoying little brat.

Flicking the butt to the ground, Jacob exhales, watching the grey wisps that slip out from his lips before he pockets his phone, his body just a tad tense with impatience. He went to the library around the same time as Sivan entered yesterday, only to find a nice assortment of randoms that were most definitely not Troye Sivan.

Needless to say, today is already starting out less than promising. Even better, it just occurred to Jacob that he's never bothered following Sivan to anywhere that wasn't the library. From day one, he's always seen him go in there.

So, really, this is more than a little distressing. Because if he's scared him off to the edges of the universe, then Jacob has absolutely no idea as to how to find him. Not one.

So.

He's been smoking like a fucking chimney, jiggling his leg hard enough to unearth some dirt, and he's given more than one unsuspecting passerby an uncalled-for glare that even he can tell is too abrasive. And now Timothee's texting him and being a douche and time's passing ever so fucking slowly and everything is sort of just shitty. Annoying and shitty.

Hm. Maybe Dylan knows where Sivan gets about to.

He's just about to slide his phone back out (and maybe grab another cigarette) when suddenly he catches sight of a now slightly-familiar set of curls and a large, brown jumper set atop a pair of stick legs and huge White Converse. And if Jacob's not mistaken (he never is) that is a recipe for one Mr. Troye Sivan.

The world may not be totally against him just yet.

Immediately straightening (he'd been awkwardly leaning on a tree in the courtyard, one of the old, big ones by the pond), he focuses his attention on the boy, takes in the white earbuds and enormous backpack, the slouch in his walk.

Yeah, that's definitely him.

And 'Him' is headed straight towards the library. Fucking praise.

Keeping the victorious surge and accompanied sigh of relief at bay, Jacob pushes himself off the tree with efficient speed, already taking as big of strides as he can manage towards the boy and building in question. And thank fuck Troye is in his own little world, eyes on the ground and nodding his head to his music, because he doesn't see Jacob marathoning this shit, nearly breaking a sweat as he bustles forward, a bit of his styled hair falling into his eyes.

Great. Now he's sweaty and his hair's shit.

He's just about in eyesight, when suddenly he halts, feet planting to the pavement firmly.

Because someone's just stopped Troye.

It's just a girl, some sweet-faced blonde with a nice smile and green eyes. But, thing is, is that she stopped Troye, her expression having flat-out brightened as they crossed paths before she reached out a gentle hand to rest on his bicep, successfully catching his attention.

Now, this may seem like an insignificant occurrence. However. This is exactly what Jacob has been looking for. This is exactly what Jacob needs to see—Ttoye interacting with other people. Because Jacob has yet to see a full conversation between him and anyone and he needs to know the way he conducts himself with everyone, needs to see if he can find something that gives away some, any, answers.

So he plants his feet and watches unabashedly as Troye's eyes find the girl's. They squint into a kind smile as he immediately plucks out both earbuds, facing most of his body towards her.