Chapter 1: Anti-Social.

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Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye.

- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Patrick POV

It is an early frosty October morning. The air is slightly cold, just enough to nip at your fingers and snatch the tiniest bit of heat from your body like an unseen thief. The leaves are a fiery colour, an array of brilliant oranges, deep reds, mustard yellows and earthly shades of decaying brown. Dawn has broken moments ago, lighting the sky with pinks and blues and reds, a beautiful scene. Birds tweet and chirp as they fly home to feed their hungry babies. The campus begins to become alive. Lights turning on; tired souls preparing for classes and for an eventful day where they may learn something that will stick with them for the rest of their lives.

The light shines through my bedroom window, disturbing me from my sleep. The sun rays cast themselves upon my white bedsheets, throwing themselves across my posters that hang perfectly on my wall. My eyes take a minute to adjust, as I reach over, turning as I do so, to grab my glasses that sit on the bedside table. I could wear contacts, but for someone who is submerged under a great load of work, well I'd rather save the time. My alarm springs to life, bleating like a goat as it signals me to open my already wide-awake eyes. I slam my hand down on it. Can't handle that noise this early. Think I might just get rid of it.

My phone buzzes as I swing my legs over the side of the bed but I can't be bothered seeing who has decided to message me at 6:00 am. Whoever it is can fuck off. I sit for a minute, yawning and stretching. I stand up, my feet hitting the soft material of the rug underfoot. I plod across it, reaching the opposite side of the dorm room. I stare down at the sleeping man, the way his curls fall on the pillow; his semi-open mouth, his slight stubble and his bare chest staring back at me. I slap his head, not so hard but not softly either and he groans. His eyelids crinkle before he opens them, revealing bright blue eyes that are registering me standing there.

"fuck...off Patrick" He grumbles lowly, turning over in bed and pulling the covers over his body. I tug on a sleepy smile "Joe"

"no, don't Joe me" he grumbles again "Fuck off, It's 6 am, I'm half-pissed and tired" he adds on. I chuckle. Trust him to stay out late drinking. He'll probably make an effort to show up to class at one, but if he doesn't then I'll know that he's probably still in bed or on another drinking spree. Man sees college as a way to escape his parents—I see college as a chance to further my education.

I reach over to his wardrobe, pulling out a t-shirt. "Borrowing this" I say, he doesn't bother to look at what shirt I'm holding in my hand, he just lets out a "mmhmm" in return. I cross back over to my side, retrieving my black jeans from the ground. Still clean enough for another day. I sling them over my arm, grabbing my wash-bag and tugging open the dorm door. The picture of the half naked Playboy bunny girl pinned to the door falls off, the noise doesn't wake Joe—who would skin me alive if anything happened to the poster. It lands on the ground, curled over. I wish he'd get rid of the thing. Too many nights I've woke up to think that perhaps some half-naked girl has managed to get herself lost in my dorm room.

I shut the door behind me as I stand in the now barely-lit dorm corridor. Nobody else is awake here. A draft of cold air brushes my exposed legs, trust me to sleep in my boxers when it's the middle of October. I shiver slightly, but I know the shower block is just around the corner and in no time I'll be warm. I plod across the thick ugly red carpet that covers the hallway floor and finally I reach the shower block. I swing open the door. Hot steam that's thick in the air, hits me as soon as I step in. My stomach drops.

I didn't expect someone else to be in here. Of course I didn't, I picked 6 am in the morning to shower, because nobody else is in here at this time. But apparently someone got up extra early this morning.

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⏰ Last updated: May 19, 2019 ⏰

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