Lycanthropy and Me: The First Semester(mlm)

Day 24. Wednesday, Waxing Gibbous/Day 25. Thursday, Full Moon

Day 24. Wednesday, Waxing Gibbous

On Wednesday, Hunter trusted himself to leave his dorm room. He knew preparations had to be made, and he couldn't leave any loose ends. First, he needed an ally. Normally, his mother was his helper for binding. The week before a full moon, the non-lycan members of their pack would assemble for last minute preparations. As shifting varied, lock-ups and bindings were organized into a loose schedule. If his mother was unavailable, someone else would take her place.
He decided Malcolm was his best bet. He had hardly spoken to anyone else.
At first he was confident he could track the other boy down. They shared a dorm after all, and having met him twice, Hunter was certain he could pinpoint the other werewolf in a crowd. With no classes, he was free to roam the grounds, but could not find the boy.

 He sent him messages.

At 9 a.m. he sent, 'Sorry, it's Hunter. Need help for full moon stuff. Are you free tonight or tomorrow?'

At 11 a.m. he texted. 'Sorry. Hunter again. Did you get my text?'

At 1:35 p.m. He wrote, 'Look, I know you might be busy but I really need help' before deleting it.

At 2:00 his mother called. He assured her everything was fine and took some Tylenol.

At 3:00 p.m. he took a nap in the library.

At 10:00 p.m. he awoke to the librarian telling him to go to bed.

Day 25. Thursday, Full Moon

It was here. He could feel it. His hands shook as he pulled his supplies from the bag. He could do the jacket. He could handle the mittens. Ha ha. Mittens. He was laughing. It was laughing.Malcolm was laughing. He had betrayed him. He was bad. People were bad. It was coming. It was making Hunter bad.

Hunter didn't want to be bad. He wanted to go home. Everyone was home. Colton was--

"Hunter?"

Grayson was coming out of an evening class when he saw Hunter on his hands and knees in the grass outside the Howard dorm. Hunter appeared to be in his pyjamas; an old oversized t-shirt, baggy flannel pants, and socks. His signature beanie was missing, instantly causing Grayson to worry.
At the moment he wasn't sure where he stood with Hunter Reeds. Their first meeting had been odd to say the least. The last thing Grayson had expected to find in the anthropology section, was a tiny, hipsterly dressed,  boy on crutches with fangs. But somehow he had hobbled his way into Grayson's life, and he had no intention of letting Hunter back out of it.

Okay, maybe things had moved way too fast. Maybe a romance wasn't best at the moment. But a friendship maybe? The occasional chat over disgusting campus coffee? He couldn't help but hope.

The distance between them was only a few yards, but Hunter hadn't spotted him yet. He was busy looking in the grass for something. Grayson rocked on his heels. Maybe it was too early for them to be talking. Maybe Hunter needed some space.

Hunter sat back in the grass, and held up something silver. He blew into it. A whistle? Then he waited. Then he did it again.
He looked around, his nose twitching. Was he sniffing the air, or sniffling from a cold?
A heavy-set young man with a goatee and a large art portfolio went over to him.
"Oh, yes. Thank you so much." Hunter looked up at him with joy. "Tie me up right now. I friggin' need it."
Grayson blinked twice. Maybe he heard that wrong.
"Okay. What kind of binding stuff do you got?"
"Jacket. Cuffs. Gag. The works." 
No, He heard that right.
Hunter stared at the grass. "Shh-Shomeone elsh said they would help but they..." His gaze went unfocused for a moment and he shook his head. 
"Moon madness, huh? That sucks." He helped Hunter to his feet. "Okay let's make this quick." He pulled Hunter along, back into the Howard.
Despite his mixed feelings, Grayson found himself heading into the Howard building. What did he just hear? How was he supposed to respond to that? What was Hunter's room number again? He had said something about a corner room on the second floor...