Sanctuary (A Dan Smith/ Bastille fanfic)

5. Chloe

After what can only be described as the most painful history lesson I have ever had to endure I decide that I need a cigarette to take the edge off. I look down at my timetable and notice that psychology is next. I know it’s my first day but I decide to skip it. I won’t know what’s going on anyway.

I somehow find my way to the field but notice that no one is smoking. Can they not smoke in this prison? I decide to walk around the field before finding a place to sit and smoke in peace where no one can see me. I walk around to a small wooded area in the corner and see that the fence has been broken, like someone has kicked it to force their entry into the woods. I push through the fence and walk through the trees to find another fence and realise that I’ve come to the end of the tiny wooded area. I turn around and there’s a plastic chair on one side of the enclosure. I smile and take a seat, reaching into my bag for my cigarettes and feeling the relief in my body when I light one and take in a long drag.

My relief is short lived though when I see a figure appear through the fence that I have broken through just minutes before. As he nears I recognise who it is, it’s the ever so delightful Dan from my history class. Maybe this is his place that he goes to? When he gets closer I realised how angry he looks. Shit.

“What the actual fuck do you think that you’re doing here?” He snaps quickly as he eyes me sitting what I now presume is his seat. His eyes are filled with fury and he's breathing heavily as if he's trying to contain his anger. I could stand up for myself and snap back at him and tell him that I have just as much of a right to be here, but I feel like this guy isn't to be messed with.

“Sorry, I just came here for a bit of peace.” I say innocently whilst standing up.

“Well you got it, now leave.” He flicks his lighter and holds it close to the cigarette that sat lazily on his lips.

“Can I not just finish my fag?” I ask, holding the cigarette in my hand and raising my brows at him.

“No. Now leave. I like to be alone.” He throws his bag on the floor and slumps down on to the seat that I have just stood up from. He shuffles around for a while trying to make himself comfortable whilst I just stand there watching him, clueless as to what I should do. Do I listen to him and leave? Or do I stay and stand my ground? The irritated growl that comes from his mouth suggests that I should leave pronto. I flick my cigarette to the floor and stub it lazily with my foot before swinging my bag around and strutting out of the wooded enclosure feeling completely infuriated by my encounter with this near stranger.

As I walk back towards the main building my frustration about the situation leads me to change my route and I decide that I don’t want to stay at this college any longer today and that my last few lessons can wait for another day.