two sided | peter parker

VII | tedious

  『te·di·ous | adj. | too long, slow, or dull; tiresome or monotonous』

"QUIT PROCRASTINATING," Was what rang in Y/n's ears, the girl tilting her head up with a stubborn moan as she looked straight into Chip's mossy eyes. The boy stood with his weight mainly shifted on his left leg, wearing a light yellow and darker yellow striped shirt with faded blue jeans. His brown hair stuck up in little places, but he'd undoubtedly still attract others.

He watched Y/n writhe in hatred, the pictures from Ebony open on her phone as she poured over it painfully in an effort to study for the test in tomorrow. It being Sunday, Y/n was already spending the day mourning over how the next day would be Monday. "Easy for you to say, you already studied." He snorted with a sassy cross of his arms. "Like a responsible student."

Chip excused himself, moving his hair back with one clean fell swoop of his tan hand. Eyes darting between his roommate, her phone, and the little notes tucked in the lines of her tiny journal, the mossy orbs narrowed. "You're not trying to cheat, are you?" Shaking her head, she gave a bitter frown and jutted out her bottom lip.

"What? No! It's scientifically proven that writing something down six times can reassure your memory of whatever the fuck you're trying to remember!" She argued, waving the journal as he squinted his eyes to read it and ended up analyzing multiples of the same sentence. Rolling his eyes, a puff of air escaped his nostrils. "Alright, alright. I believe you."

"Besides, last time I cheated was in sophomore year and Ms. Wilkinson caught me." Y/n pouted, her mind running over the short moment. She reminisced over how red her ears had gotten and the warmth that had flooded her face in an instant, her hand shakily giving the paper only to get it back with a red zero and a scolding from the elderly health teacher.

"Only because you were too lazy to memorize the CPR steps," Chip cocked a brow, turning to the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of orange juice. Sipping it, he slid into the seat on her left as she sat at the 'head of the table'. He set the glass down, making a satisfying clink sound as a light orange slightly lined his lips. "Not my fault I was running a high fever that Thursday," She muttered.

He stayed silent, rolling his eyes in response and mumbling underneath his breath before swiping through his own phone and occasionally drinking his juice. "I don't get this concept," The girl whined hopelessly, poking her friend in the forearm and pointing to a section of the notes. His brows perked, a chuckle escaping his lips.

"That's because Ebony was rushing. Her handwriting practically looks like hieroglyphics when she's too lazy or too fast. It's supposed to be 'variable' not 'varied' and 'equation' not 'equal'." He pointed to little scribbles in her notes as he blinked, referencing to the pictures and back at his own roommate's writing. "Had to talk to her about that too." Chip laughed softly.

"Mhm, obviously." Y/n sighed, pulling her hair back with a swift movement and tying it together in a messy ponytail. With her pastel yellow sweater, gray sweatpants, baggy white shirt underneath adorned with 'ME HOY MINOY' from the most epic Spongebob Squarepants episode; she looked like a true senior mess.

Chip drank the last of his juice, tugging at his front locks and looking back at her messy hairdo. "Think I should cut my hair soon?" Her eyes cut to him in a strong glare, her desperation and annoyance shining through towards her best friend. Of course, her next statement wouldn't hurt him, but amuse him. "I think you should shut the fuck up, so I can study."

He scoffed, a grin stretching on his lips as he patted her shoulder. "I'll make you some tea later if you're still up to this, yeah? On the other hand, I'm going to go actually clean my room for once." Chip already knew how her backlash towards things or people came out of stress or pure emotions, he's known her for nearly all his life, after all.

They were incredibly close and Chip had always considered her actions understandable in her perspective. Ironically, compared to everyone else that was dying in terminal care had always said that 'life is too short to be angry' or something along those lines. Charlie liked to think that Y/n's was, 'life is too short to be constricting with your emotions; let the fuck loose'.

He chuckled at the thought, hanging up another article of clothing and scrunching his nose at the stench of an empty alcohol bottle that drunk him had carelessly tossed to the corner of the room. How it had not broken was an absolute miracle. Picking it up, his eyes scanned across the label as he remembered how they'd drunk away their summer troubles.

Maybe it was the stress of his summer job or the break up between his ex-girlfriend and him, he wasn't very sure, but he faintly remembered Y/n waving a bottle of the stuff and offering something else as an option too. Obviously, he'd chosen the bottle above everything else. Hence the roll of odd voicemails to other people, their thumbs imprinted in each others' phones.

A knock sounded on the rim of the white door, Y/n peeking her head in with an apologetic smile and a friendly facial expression. "Hey, um. Sorry about earlier, I was just pretty pissed off by the studying and stuff. Wasn't directed to you, y'know? Anyway, how about those cups of ginger tea and some episodes of The Office?" 

The offer sounded absolutely great; nostalgia, warmth, friendliness, and everything good swirling inside of him at that moment. It was odd, realizing how close and precious your friend truly was. How it'd practically kill you, even if it wasn't your own life, to know that they'd leave you willingly or never come back from the six feet they were buried under.

Instead, Chip gave a stupid smile and an equally awkward nod. "Yeah, that sounds fucking epic."