Two Batty Kids :: Me and Polo

Mixed notes created agonizingly beautiful harmonies. The melody flowed from their instruments almost as if it were one voice, one soul infused into the music. The way Orion played… James knew that this song had a special place in his heart. This thought was further reinforced when he began murmuring the words quietly under his breath, eyes closed in emotion. His voice rumbled quietly, shaking with all of the feelings that came with the piece. Gradually, his voice grew louder as he became more comfortable, although it was still quiet compared to the chords that the two were playing. When the song drew to a close, James stopped playing, choosing to simply listen as the acoustic guitar and the throaty voice faded off into silence.
Orion stayed like that for a moment, one hand clutching the neck of the guitar, the other poised over the strings as if he was going to keep playing. His eyes stared down, unseeing, and grief was written plainly over his face. His usual grimace had turned into a sad frown. Not angry sad, but a deep, overwhelming sadness that James could feel even from the distance between them. It threatened to crush him, to take over his senses and make him think about everything that was wrong in his life. He felt the beginnings of a tear prick at his eyes, but in an instant, he blinked and it was gone. How much worse it must be for Orion, was his only thought. He could feel the sorrow radiating from the man in front of him, could almost feel the depression. He had never had to go through anything as traumatizing as what he was sensing.
How much worse for him must it be.
But the moment was gone. Orion brushed his hair back from his face and looked up at James, a strange look on his face that almost looked like… gratitude.
"That was actually pretty fun. I've never played with anybody before. Thanks."
“Duets are great.” James agreed, nodding his head, noting that not once did Orion smile. “You know, I actually probably have some duets somewhere around here…” For just moving in, his half of the room was already a wreck. The few hours of sheer boredom between unpacking and awaiting for Orion to arrive had taken their toll. Gently, he returned the guitar to its case and slid it under the bed. In its place, he took out a few folders filled near to explosion with sheet music. “Flute and piano, trumpet and piano, trumpet and flute…” He made a face and opened that folder, quickly scanning the handwritten music inside. “What the hell was I thinking when I wrote these?”
He continued his search and finally found the ones he was looking for. “Ah, guitar and piano.” He handed his roommate the folder. “If any of these appeal to you, let me know. We can run a copy or something and play some more.” A sudden thought came over him, and he shrugged, adding, “Or you can just play it as a solo, no big deal.” Although honestly, it kind of was a big deal to him. It would be sad if he was rejected now, after all of the bonding they’d just had. Orion had shown him a side that most people didn’t get to see, James felt. If he didn’t want to associate himself with James now…
You sound like a girl after her first time, he thought to himself with biting sarcasm. Get over it.
James sighed and moved back to his bed, pushing the folders underneath and climbing up the ladder. He pulled his keyboard onto his lap and began playing a gentle, simple, happy tune, one that he’d been made to memorize at an early age. It was nothing too spectacular; just background noise for Orion to think to, and something for James to distract himself with.

[[I should like a good piece of cake right about now… Sighs dramatically into the wind. Also I managed to get on.]]

((You get online during the day, and now you even pick up on the smiling thing. XD Man, this is just great. :') Not quite cake great, but... Great. XD ))

“Duets are great.” James nodded in agreement, and again Orion was amused by just how 'expert' he sounded. He was fairly certain that, if he asked, James could give him a music lecture beyond anything he would learn at University. Perhaps he would be able to learn some things from his roommate before the end of the year...
“You know," James went on keenly, "I actually probably have some duets somewhere around here…”
Interest piqued, Orion looked up and watched as James quickly put his guitar away, then began rummaging through some folders, searching through sheets and sheets of music and muttering as he cast them aside, until at last he found a folder that, it would seem, had some suitable duets. 
“Ah, guitar and piano.” He confirmed, and Orion stretched out a hand to take the folder offered to him, flipping it open, and leafing curiously through the contents, “If any of these appeal to you, let me know. We can run a copy or something and play some more.”
Nodding mutely, he tipped the sheets carefully out of the folder, then began scanning them one by one, running his eyes briefly over the notes, and imagining to himself how the music might sound. In the background, James went on talking, muttering something about Orion playing the piece solo, and suddenly sounding a little insecure. Orion glanced briefly up at him, lips tweaking slightly in amusement as James seemed to lose his nerve, and retreated back to his bed, packing away the rest of the sheet music he'd pulled out, and readying his keyboard. Then, as Orion's eyes dropped back to the pages in his hands, he heard his roommate start to play a relaxing little tune in the background.
He had always wanted a soundtrack to his life. It seemed that, with James as his roommate, he was actually quite likely to get one.
"These are great." He answered at last, plucking a single sheet from the pile, then stacking the rest neatly, and slipping them back into the folder, "I'm keen to try this one, although whether or not I'll do it any justice is another story." He nearly laughed, uttering a quiet breath of amusement, then handed the page to James, attempting to pluck a few of the chords on his guitar.
Then, with a thoughtful grunt, he pushed his guitar aside and flipped open the case, rummaging through it until he found a guitar pick.
"I don't want to try operate a pen tomorrow with blisters on my fingers." He explained with a shrug, taking up the pick, and strumming the strings of his guitar once more, then laying a hand over the vibrating metal to silence it. He turned the pick over absentmindedly in his fingers, and as he did, he caught a glimpse of the logo on the other side, a horned skull, with a hole in the middle. Lifting it up to study it closer, he very nearly smiled.
"Check it, I'd forgotten I had this." He flicked the pick across to James, "When I was a kid, my friend and I sneaked out to go to a Demon Hunter concert. We managed to slip in through the back entrance when nobody was looking, and ended up way up front. Of course, the pick's not the only reminder I've got - I've still got scars on my ass for the caning that earned me," He laughed, shaking his head, "But it was worth it, I tell you that." He held out his hand, waited for James to throw the pick back, then packed it safely back in his guitar case, taking out another instead.
"Anyway..." Feeling suddenly awkward after his uncharacteristic sharing, he cleared his throat, shifting his guitar more comfortably onto his lap. "How about we try that piece, then? I'll follow your lead."

((I know that was random, but thought it would be a good idea to get character talking about himself. XD ))

“These are great.” Orion said as he pulled out one sheet of paper from the pile. James immediately knew which one it was – the only sheet of music he had that only took one page. It was a simple piece, with a lot of repeats that made it longer than what it really was. The piano part was plain and pretty. Originally, he was supposed to be the one on the guitar and someone else on the piano, so the main focus would be on the guitarist. The notes weren’t too difficult, but the tempo was a little fast. It sounded more impressive than it really was. “Although whether or not I’ll do it any justice in another story.”
He handed the sheet p to James so that he could look over it. James refrained from mentioning that he already knew which piece it was – Gold Dust, as he had named it – and that he still retained every measure in his memory. He glanced over it all the same. A brief flashback from freshman year of high school when he had written it passed through his mind, and a small smile appeared on his mouth. Back then, he was only just beginning to write guitar stuff. That was why it was so short. In fact, if memory served him correctly, this was his first guitar piece. How ironic.
“I was really obsessed with abstract names.” James explained with a small shrug. “I kind of took the title from my best friend’s favorite song. It was originally for him.” He chuckled and didn’t mention that he also took bits and pieces of the melody, weaving it into a piece with his own little twists and turns.
Orion began searching for a pick, and when he found it, tossed it to James and launched into a story about how he got it. Sneaking into concerts – how likely of him.
He rolled his eyes in amusement and handed the pick back. “How wonderful.” The sarcasm dripped from his voice. “I’d love scars on my beautiful bum.”
Then he felt bad as Orion seemed to suddenly close off. He changed the subject awkwardly.
“How about we try that piece then? I’ll follow your lead.”
James nodded his consent and handed the piece of music back. “I originally wrote this for me to be playing guitar.” He warned him. “So you’re the star here. Play like it, or I’ll have to skin you.” He hoped that the man would take his joke lightly. He flashed an easy smile and began the short introduction.

[[Short and crappy because I have a chemistry test to study for. Whoops.]]

((Good priorities. ))

James's sarcastic response put Orion back on the defensive, and though he did not offer a response, he did bristle with momentary tension, lips pressing together in a thin line. He seldom talked about his past, and even less about Luke. Really, it was not surprising that he was regretting it now.
Averting his gaze awkwardly, he plucked at a string on his guitar, then stopped it abruptly when the harsh sound reverberated against his eardrums. 
At James's nod, he reached out and accepted the sheet of music that had been handed back to him, running his eyes over it again. A small frown formed on his face, and his eyes took on a focused, intelligent gaze as he studied the notes and chords, quickly making sense of it all. ((Unlike a certain musically challenged Polo. ))]
“I originally wrote this for me to be playing guitar.” James told him warningly, and Orion looked up, one eyebrow quirked upwards, “So you’re the star here. Play like it, or I’ll have to skin you.”
He nearly said 'I'd like to see you try', but when James smiled at him, he recognized the comment as a joke, and his expression softened somewhat.
"I'm a little rusty." He admitted, "But I'll give it my best shot. Let's go."
He looked over the music again, then nodded, and turned to the strings, his fingers plucking them expertly to conjure up a beautiful tune. Yet again, he was amazed by his friend's talent. To compose something like this as a mere freshman? To him, the idea was barely comprehensible. 

As the music flowed from his fingers, soon complemented sweetly by James's flawless keystrokes, Orion felt the tension gradually leave his shoulders, and his brief moment of resentment was forgotten as he lost himself once more in the music, letting it detoxify his mind.
It was not a long piece, and after roughly a minute of playing, they finished it off - not too shabbily either, if he was allowed an opinion.
"Again, I'm impressed." He conceded as he played his guitar down in his lap, shooting James a glance, "That's quite a composition. You really have an ear for music-"
Suddenly, the sound of muffled music began roaring harshly from Orion's bag, and he cursed under his breath, hopping down from the bed and hurrying over to it, then ripping it open and scratching around until he found his phone. When he saw the name on the caller ID, he cursed under his breath.
"As if I'd f*cking answer." He snarled, then a thought seemed to occur to him, and instead of hanging up, he did accept the call. Instead of speaking into the phone, however, he banged it noisily against the wall three times, then hung up with a look of vindictive pride, shoving it roughly into his pocket. He had no desire to speak to his asshole of a foster father. His bruised eye hurt just thinking about it.

Orion was cut off in the middle of complimenting James by a phone call - rather rudely, if he said so himself. He liked the attention in a strange way, although he figured it wasn't too strange. Everyone liked people to pay attention to them.
Instead of answering the cell like a normal person, however, his roommate simply picked up the device and chucked it against the wall - multiple times. James arched an eyebrow, simply because he had no better reaction. Great. This guy had anger problems.
He shoved the phone into his pocket, and with the look of twisted pride in his eyes, James could have sworn he was sending an enemy to the deepest pit of hell with a single thrust of his palm. He sighed and began flipping through the other pages in that folder. Somehow other pieces of music had gotten mixed in. Sheet music that his friend Taylor - the one he had written Gold Dust for - had bought and given to him to play, simply because he loved the songs so much. It was a band called Fleetwood Mac, a group from England that James had never heard of. The pieces were nice. Not too complicated, but good enough to bring tears if played passionately enough. Taylor had even gotten his girlfriend Katelyn to come in and sing the lyrics. With a bass player and someone who could play the drums, they probably could have started a garage band because of Taylor's freakish obsession.
A small smile played at the corner of his lips as he pulled out one of the pieces and climbed down the ladder. He moved around to Orion's bed and unplugged his keyboard before placing the instrument gently under the bed. He pulled out his guitar again and climbed back up, setting the sheet on his pillow and glancing over it.
"It's called 'You Make Lovin' Fun'." He said quietly. "This was my friend's favorite song; he always made me play it for him." He chuckled and glanced at Orion's face for a reaction, the half smirk still playing at the corner of his mouth. Then he bent his head down and began picking at the cords, softly humming under his breath. He had no talent for singing, and he knew it, so he didn't even try. It was such a shame. He'd have love to be able to.
Halfway through the piece, his own phone rang. He sighed and set the guitar down, moving without haste down the ladder and picking it up off of his desk. When he saw who was calling, he was tempted to throw it against the wall like Orion did. He did the civil thing and answered, though.
"Hello?" James said, not bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice.
"James!" The voice on the other end squealed. James winced. She was always too loud.
"Hey, Tess." He said grudgingly.
"Jeez, don't sound so excited to talk to me."
James rolled his eyes and didn't reply.
After a moment of silence, Tess continued. "How are you liking college so far?"
"Tess, I'm a senior. I've been at university the last three years."
"Fine. How do you like senior year so far?"
"It's my first day, Tess." He sounded like a weary mother, he thought.
"Fine!" He could feel her getting exasperated. "I won't ask any more questions!"
"Good."
More silence.
"Tess, are you there?"
"Yeah." She sounded like she was pouting. "I was just calling to tell you that we're visiting this weekend."
James's jaw dropped. "Why?"
"It's a university visit for me, don't worry." He could almost hear her rolling her eyes. "We don't miss you that much."
Ouch. "I didn't really expect you would." He said, a little bitterly. "Just don't bother me too much."
"Whatever." The line disconnected. James sighed and put his phone back on his desk. When he climbed back onto his bed, he found that he wasn't really in the mood to play anymore, so he put his guitar away.
"Time for bed, I'm thinking." He murmured, more to himself than Orion, yet he still looked to the other man for consent.

[[Oh my gosh this was terrible. We need something else to do now.]]

((Sorry, I didn't give you anything helpful to work with there. :PI'll see if I can bring in a little more action. ))

Without looking at James, Orion vaulted back onto his bed with all the dignity he could muster. He sat on the edge, letting his legs hang loosely down, and casually pretending like he hadn't just tried to murder somebody through a phone like a crazy person. 
The tense silence lingered as James dropped cat-like to the floor, then padded over to unplug his keyboards, before climbing back onto his bed, and picking up his guitar. Now, Orion cast him a curious glance, slowly starting to let go of the bubble of anger that had been rising in his throat since seeing Mr. Chang's name.
"It's called 'You Make Lovin' Fun'." James told him as he pulled out some more sheet music, "This was my friend's favorite song; he always made me play it for him."
"Fleetwood Mac." Orion nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting, just a little. "I know it. It's a good song. Kinda cute." He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at himself. Since when had he appreciated 'cute'? Actually, he supposed he always had. Since Luke, anyway.
Sighing away the depressing thought, he looked back at James as he began playing the first few chords, and doing an excellent job of it, not to Orion's surprise. He got about halfway through, when suddenly, they were interrupted again by a phone ringing - James's, this time.
Orion hopped off his bed as James answered, putting away his own phone, and starting to look out some clean pajamas. It was getting late now, but that was not the reason. Rather, he wanted to keep himself busy so it wouldn't seem as if he was eavesdropping on James's conversation. He, for one, hated that - and he was fairly certain that James must feel the same.
Still, even though he busied himself, he couldn't help but pick up snippets of the conversation. Judging from the way James was talking, this 'Tess' was somebody that he knew fairly well. Maybe a sister.
Shrugging it off, Orion tossed his pajama shirt over his shoulder as James hung up, then glanced briefly back at his roommate to see him putting his guitar away.
"Time for bed, I'm thinking." He muttered, and Orion nodded his agreement. He had figured as much. "This was fun." He admitted, only a little reluctantly.
With that, he turned away, and vanished into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

***

It was a little after 2AM when Orion was suddenly awoken by the creak of a floorboard beside his bed, but before he could react, something wet had been slapped roughly over his mouth, and a heavy weight landed roughly on his chest, winding him. He grunted, but as he was about to gasp in a breath, a strong chemical scent began burning his nose, and in an instant, he recognized the antiseptic-like stench of Chloroform. They had studied it in chemistry the day before, and he could not easily forget the smell.
Grunting in shock as his heart began racing, he suddenly began to thrash, fighting the pressure on his chest as adrenaline surged through his veins. But the longer he fought, the weaker he felt, and the person pinning him down just pressed down harder the more he struggled.
Just as he felt himself begin to grow lightheaded, Orion's panicked thoughts cleared, and for a split-second, he went completely still, throwing his attacker off-guard. As the muscles resting on him softened, he quickly jerked up one knee, and threw off the weight, ripping the Chloroform-soaked rag away from his mouth, and wiping his arm roughly over his lips.
"What the F*CK do you think this is?" He roared, angry from fright. Punching the light switch, he spilled light over the room, just in time to see a mop of long, greasy blonde hair racing for the door.
With a furious snarl, he leaped to the floor, grabbing a handful of that filthy hair, and jerking the man on the other end back toward him like a yoyo. Blondie cried out, but before he could make another sound, Orion had grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" He demanded, shaking the man roughly and banging his head against the wall, "HUH?"
Blondie just coughed and spluttered in response, dirty fingernails clawing at Orion's hand where it had clamped around his throat.
"You think you're f*cking smart, raiding the chem lab like that?" He shook Blondie again, "That shit's illegal, genius! This isn't high school - no more getting shoved into juvie every time you pull some lame-ass stunt."
Eyes narrowing with loathing, Blondie finally managed to loosen Orion's grip, then spat in his face.
With a growl of absolute outrage, Orion drew back a fist, but before he could shatter Blondie's pimply head like a pumpkin, the greasy boy stopped him with a sneer of, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Orion paused, expression darkening. "Yeah?" His voice was dangerously calm, "Why's that?"
"Because I know your secret." The man's putrid face settled into a smug smirk that made Orion want to be sick.
My secret? He froze, What secret?
Blondie laughed at his stunned expression, pulling free of Orion's grip and stepping away, rubbing his throat.
"There's a good boy." He patted Orion's cheek in a patronizing fashion, "Better watch your ass, faggot. You're gonna regret the day you messed with me, I'll tell you that. From now on, your life is going to be absolute..." He leaned in closer, and with breath reeking of rotten meat, whispered into Orion's ear, "Hell."

James awoke to the sounds of people fighting. In the darkened room, he couldn’t see very mush, only the vague outlines of two men grappling against the wall. Suddenly the noise stopped, and one of the men uttered soft, malicious words that made the other freeze in place. One was Orion, he was sure; he couldn’t see his roommate in his bed. Quietly, as the two stopped fighting, he moved from the bed and over to the door, sliding his hand over the wall to find the light switch.
As the room became visible, James was only slightly surprised to see Blondie. He was more surprised, however, to see a leering sneer on his face, and Orion looking terrified instead of punching it away.
James stood there in silence, not really sure what to do. His eyes moved back and forth between the two men quickly, then down at the rag on the ground. It was damp. A faint smell of chemicals wafted toward him and he felt sick. Blondie had come in here for Orion – or him, but probably Orion.
After a moment, he reached toward his desk and grabbed his cell phone, and began to dial the campus police. When Blondie realized what James was doing, he lunged forward, grabbed the man’s hand, and bent it backwards, effectively making James drop the phone. He let out a small cry of pain and fell down to get away from his attacker. Blondie fell with him, his sneer completely covered by a crimson rage.
“You tell anyone about this and you’re dead.” He whispered viciously. “The both of you are dead.”
With that warning, he left the room, letting the door hang open after. James sat on the ground, cradling his wrist. It felt like something had torn a little bit. It was getting hot and was starting to feel a little swollen. Among the flashes of pain, he felt a blinding anger.
If that twit’s made me unable to play…
He let out a hiss between his teeth. I’ll probably kill him first.
After a moment of squeezing his eyes shut, he glanced over at Orion. “Are you okay?”

[[I didn't want James to find out about Orion's little secret yet. That can prolong the suspense. And his injury is only a sprain. Two to ten weeks and he should be better!]]

((Perfect. ;)Just wanted to put it out there, because now I have a blackmail card to play.   ))

Orion's eyes narrowed, teeth clenching at Blondie's threat, but he made no move to defend himself. Then, suddenly, a soft click echoed across the room, and light flooded  Orion's eyes, blinding him momentarily. He grunted in surprise, reaching up to shield his face, and for a moment, he lost sight of Blondie.
With his sensitive eyes squinting against the sudden brightness, he stumbled clumsily after Blondie when he suddenly darted away, and in his stupefied state, it took Orion a few seconds to realize what was happening. When he did, it was already too late. Blondie had lunged at James - who it appeared had had the bright idea of calling for help - and grabbed him by the wrist, knocking him to the ground. 
"F*ck-" Orion cursed, lunging forward a moment too late, just in time for Blondie to stand up and meet his gaze with a vicious sneer. He froze.
“You tell anyone about this and you’re dead.” The boy whispered viciously, “The both of you are dead."
Before Orion could even formulate a response, Blondie had swung around and stormed out, leaving a grave silence to settle over the room. Orion stared after him a moment, looking uncharacteristically shaken, until James's voice suddenly dragged him back to the present. “Are you okay?” His roommate asked, and Orion spun around with a start to see him still sitting on the ground, cradling his wrist.
"Shit!" He dropped to his knees beside James, a deep frown creasing instantly over his brow, "Forget me, are you okay? Let me see..." He took the man's arm gently in his hands, pulling back his sleeve with the utmost care, and considering his wrist with a concerned frown.
"Crap, it's already swelling... That f*cking brute!" With a venomous hiss, he lowered James's hand gently, then heaved himself to his feet, looking around groggily. Honestly, despite the shock, he was still half asleep.
"Stay there," He ordered, clearing his head with a little shake, "I'll find you some ice or something. Don't move."
With that, he spun around and raced out of the room, never mind that he was only wearing boxers and a loose T-shirt. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so frazzled over anything. He didn't even know why he was so worried about James; but somehow, the idea of such a talented musician injuring his hand was almost unbearable to him.
Still clumsy from sleep, he stumbled as he ran quietly down the corridor, struggling to find his way in the dark.
A few wrong turns later, he finally managed to sneak into the kitchen, and stole a bag of frozen peas from the deep freeze. Nobody needed to know.
Then, quickly checking corners, he broke into a sprint again, and raced back to his room.

He was out of breath when he finally stumbled through the doorway, closing the door quietly beside him. "H-here." He gasped breathlessly, massaging a stitch in his side as he handed the bag to James, "And if anyone asks why there're no peas in any of the meals for the next few days, you know nothing."
Crouching at James's side again, he frowned in concern, and pressed the bag gently to the man's swelling wrist. He was silent a while. Then, without looking up, he murmured softly, "I'm sorry... You got hurt because of me."
He sounded far more upset about this than he should have.
"You should've just left me, I would have sorted him out..." He adjusted the bag slightly, then looked up at James, the worry evident in his clear green gaze, "How does it feel? Are you in much pain?"

"Forgot me," Orion said, crouching over him with a mixture of emotions on his face. "Are you okay?"
"Perfectly fine, never been better." James muttered under his breath, wincing as his roommate picked up his arm. Despite the fact that Orion was being gentle, it still hurt like a bitch every time he moved it. He bit his lip to hold back a yell building inside.
"Stay there." Then he went to go find ice, and James was left in the room by himself. He leaned his head back against the wall and shut eyes, letting out a quiet moan of pain. There was a sharp discomfort in his muscles. It felt like Blondie had torn something when he'd wrenched his arm backwards. Hopefully that wasn't the case - if it was, he wouldn't be able to do his music, and how could he even survive then? The simple answer was that he wouldn't. Music was his life, and something torn in his wrist could mean...
He swallowed nervously and glanced down at the offending body part. It was red and inflamed, sure signs that something was deeply wrong. At least it was his right arm. He was a lefty, so he could still go on living for school. Lab work would be a pain in the ass, he realized, but hopefully he would get an okay partner that would understand. Briefly, he thought that since Orion was in most of his classes that he could help.
That one thought caused a landslide of others.
Why was he being so nice? He looked like a complete douche. And he liked music? James still couldn't understand that. Orion seemed like he might actually be a nice kid. It was a shame he was the way he was...
And what is that? A harsh voice from the back of James's mind asked him. He saved your ass at lunch today; you could at least be a little grateful.
Just then, Orion came back in, and James ducked his head, blushing, suddenly ashamed. His hair hid his eyes from his roommate. He couldn't bear to look into those bright green orbs just then, not with how much of a judgmental bastard he was.
"And if anyone asks why there're no peas in any of the meals for the next few days, you know nothing." Orion said, pressing the bag of frozen peas to James's wrist. The cold felt good, and he let out a slow hiss of relief. Again, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry... You got hurt because of me." Orion sounded genuinely upset, and when James finally turned to look at him, his eyes were hard and his jaw tense. He was getting pretty worked up about it, it seemed. "You should've just left me, I would have sorted him out... How does it feel? Are you in much pain?"
James snorted at that. "Only a little. I'm more upset than anything else. But you weren't fighting back at the end. I figured there was a reason for that." His eyes carefully searched Orion's face, thankful that the other man's gaze was intent on James's arm. "I mean, if he'd had a knife or anything that would have been dangerous to you, he would have used it on me. He's an idiot and wouldn't have thought it through. My question to you is why didn't you sort him out?"

"Only a little." James admitted, and Orion breathed a quiet sigh, "I'm more upset than anything else. But you weren't fighting back at the end. I figured there was a reason for that." He swallowed thickly when he heard this, staring even more intently at James's injured wrist, too ashamed to say a word. His cheeks began to turn faintly pink.
"I mean, if he'd had a knife or anything that would have been dangerous to you, he would have used it on me." Orion froze in shock. James was right... He'd not even thought of that.
"He's an idiot and wouldn't have thought it through. My question to you is why didn't you sort him out?"
And there it was. James had asked it, after all; the question he'd been dreading...
"I-" He broke off, swallowing to moisten his dry mouth. His cheeks were flushed in earnest now, though whether he was ashamed or embarrassed, it was hard to say. In a way, the two went hand in hand. "I don't know." He lied with a helpless shrug, unable to think of any decent excuse, "I suppose he caught me by surprise, and I didn't think..."
Too late, he realized that he could have just said he was feeling woozy from inhaling Chloroform. He could have kicked himself, but it was too late to change his lie now. James was always going to see through it, anyway... But what other choice did he have? It wasn't like he could tell the truth. That would be nothing short of madness.
The tension grew for a moment in the wake of his blatant lie, until suddenly, Orion made a desperate attempt to change the subject.
"I think you've sprained your wrist." He said, frowning down at his roommate's swollen arm, "Well, I'm not completely sure," He shrugged modestly, "But I did my level three in first aid over the holidays, and it seems like a sprain... We should splint it." He got up quickly, leaping at the excuse, "I brought a first aid kit along, all we need is something..." He looked around the room, frowning, until his gaze fell upon a broom by the door. With a dangerous flash of his eyes, he strode over to it, then grabbed the top and stamped down hard, snapping off a short piece of wood. Turning it over in his hands, he picked off any sharp splinters still clinging to the end, then rubbed it over his palm. It was a little scratchy, but if he covered the end with the bandage, then it shouldn't hurt.
With the broken broom handle in one hand, Orion hurried over to his side of the room, and rummaged through his things until he found a small first aid kit, which he then took back over to James.
For once in his life, he was thankful to Mr. Chang for all the damn first aid training.
"Can I?" He asked, dropping back to his knees beside James, and flipping open the lid of the kit. His eyes lifted briefly to his roommate's, "You'll feel much better once it's stabilised. It should do until you can get it seen tomorrow, anyway."

Orion's face grew flushed and he bent his head too, and James immediately knew that he was right. These was something that made Orion not fight back. He swallowed heavily and hastily made up a lie. "I suppose he caught me by surprise, and I didn't think..."
James snorted again but didn't answer. If the man didn't want to tell him something, that was fine. Lord knew that he didn't want to have bonding sessions over tea or anything like that. Besides, it seemed kind of personal. It also seemed that there were so few things in like that Orion cared about, that if a single one of them were threatened, he'd either kill the offender or become paralyzed with fear. Obviously the second one had happened. James just needed to know what was being threatened.
"I think you've sprained your wrist." The change in the topic was so quick that it was almost comical. "Well, I'm not completely sure, but I did my level three in first aid over the holidays, and it seems like a sprain... We should splint it."
At the opportunity to leave, he shot up and scrambled around the room, first grabbing a first aid kit and then snapping off the handle of a broom, apparently for said splint. With the items in hand, he crouched down before James again. "Can I?" He asked, lifting his eyes up to James's. All thoughts of Orion's secret for gone; he looked like an innocent puppy now, waiting permission to do something.
If puppies could have those eyes.
James swallowed heavily and lowered his gaze, red coming to his cheeks for an unknown reason.
"Sure," he mumbled after Orion explained his reasoning. Then he added a second "sure", mostly to convince himself.
The man worked over his arm for only a few minutes; it wasn't that hard to splint. Nimble fingers worked the bandages around his wrist and the stick, effectively binding them together. When Orion was done, James stood up and grabbed the bag of peas, placing them on his wrist and hissing at the sting of the cold on his skin.
"Thanks." He muttered quietly, then looked at the other man. "I'm not going to make you tell me what the hell is going on. I'll just pretend that he's pissed at you because of this afternoon." He reached his left hand up and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Then he climbed the ladder up to his bed. It proved to be slightly difficult with his injury, but he managed after tossing the peas up and following.
When he was comfortably seated, he turned and looked back at Orion. He looked tired, but James couldn't tell if it was simple exhaustion from the day or if he was tired of running from Blondie. The animosity between them must have run deeper than the little scuffle this afternoon. Punching him in the cafeteria wouldn't lead to chloroforming, would it? A small shiver went up his spine as he thought about psychopaths that could take even a minor offense to the extreme in their quest for revenge. Briefly, he wondered if that was what had happened.
James pursed his lips and then shook his head, ducking under the covers and attempting to go back to sleep, even though he knew it would be close to impossible. "Turn off the lights." He mumbled.

Orion waited a moment for James's permission, and when he had it, he began quickly and expertly binding his roommate's wrist to the splint with a roll of elastic bandage. He made it tight - the better to support James's injured wrist - but just loose enough that it wouldn't cause him any discomfort. Finally, he pinned it, then dusted his hands together and leaned back to consider his handiwork.
"That should hold..." He murmured, wincing on James's behalf as he laid the bag of peas back over his wrist, "How does it feel?"
His question was lost as James thanked him, and Orion just shrugged it off, his brow still creased in concern. Somehow, he felt responsible for this... If he had just sent Blondie running with a kick up the arse, this would never have happened.
"I'm not going to make you tell me what the hell is going on." James murmured quietly, and Orion tensed, glancing nervously toward him, "I'll just pretend that he's pissed at you because of this afternoon."
"That's all I know of." Orion admitted honestly, shrugging, "I suppose he's a sore loser, but... He took it too far." His jaw clenched, and his eyebrows drew angrily together as he added, "That's why I hate people like that. They just don't care about anything but their damn pride."
He glanced up as James began struggling to his feet, and automatically offered a hand to help him, but his roommate did not take it. Dropping his arm awkwardly back to his side, Orion watched with concern as James struggled his way back onto his bed, finally sitting down wearily on the mattress with a soft squeak of springs. Orion watched him a moment longer, then cleared his throat and turned back to his own bed, vaulting effortlessly up. 
"Turn off the lights." A soft voice mumbled from across the room, muffled by the duvet over him. Orion considered him a moment, then nodded. "Okay." He crawled to the edge of his bed, then leaned over, stretching out his arm. It took a few poorly aimed swipes before he finally managed to flick the switch off, bathing the room in darkness. The air still smelled faintly of Chloroform. He shuddered.
"Hey, James..." He murmured quietly, staring up at the dark ceiling. It was the first time he'd said his roommate's name out loud. "I really am sorry you got buggered up because of me." He paused a moment, then added softly, "I'll make sure you don't get caught up in my shit again, I promise." Another quiet pause, then, "Good night."

James found that the best way to react to Orion's statement was to not say anything at all. He feigned a heavier breathing and a few fake snores - although the latter were probably very unconvincing. To be honest, he didn't really know how to respond. What would he do? Say, "Oh yeah, I'll just ignore the fact that a psychopath just broke into our dorm with the intent to chloroform, kidnap, and do who knows what to you and maybe even to me! Totally fine!" Yeah, like that would work. And it wasn't Orion's fault, truthfully. If he'd just kept his nose in his own business at lunch today...
Then what? He thought to himself quietly. You would still have problems.
James sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for sleep to come. He rolled around every now and then to find a more comfortable position, but his mind was reeling. He was awake to see the first rays of sun peek through the window. When he finally fell asleep, it seemed that the alarm went off seconds later.
Groggily, James propped himself up on an elbow, glaring at the ringing device. All too late, he realized it was is injured arm, and he let out a small cry of pain before falling back on his pillow. "Why is life so hard." He complained angrily, biting back a stream of vicious curses threatening to spill out.
When the red fog faded from his vision, he carefully got up - making sure to use his other arm - and descended slowly down the ladder. He shifted through his drawers to find a clean polo - today's was grassy green - and the same pair of pants as yesterday. With a death glare at Orion - challenging him to protest - he headed into the bathroom to change. It was always a race for him to get to the bathroom first in the mornings at home - Tess enjoyed taking hour long showers doing God knows what - and he found that old habits died hard in college. He took his time using the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and getting ready. When he finally emerged, his hair was perfectly combed to one side, his outfit impeccable, and the plastic smile on his face winning. The only sign of last night's struggles were the deep purple circles beneath his eyes and the splint on his wrist. "I'm going to go to the medical office now." He told Orion, waiting to see how he would react.

[[I actually got on, but I won't be able to later Dx]]

((Noooooo. :'(
See you tomorrow. ))

Orion waited silently for James's response, but when it never came, he sighed quietly and rolled over onto his side. Perhaps it was for the best. He wasn't all that keen to talk about it either. Breathing out heavily, he slowly closed his eyes, and pulled the blankets tightly around himself. He wasn't cold, but he could still feel a chill scuttling up and down his spine every time he thought of Blondie's menacing gaze. It wasn't that he was afraid of the man - because he wasn't - but rather, he was afraid of what power Blondie might have over him.
Just what do you know...? He wondered silently, frowning into the gloom, And... How do you know?
With another heavy sigh, he rolled onto his back, watching the still shadows on the ceiling. He was tired. Exhausted, now. But already, he knew that he was going to struggle to get to sleep.

***

Despite his thoughts, Orion did manage to get a decent night's sleep - but it was a troubled and frantic one, riddled with sweat and nightmares, and he awoke in the morning feeling as groggy and unrested as if he'd never slept in the first place. He groaned at the sound of James's alarm, pulling the blankets over his head, and trying to convince himself that it was just another nightmare. But then the floorboards creaked as his roommate's feet hit the ground, and Orion resigned himself to the reality of facing another day.
Pushing back the blankets, he sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He felt gross, sticky with cold sweat, but as he glanced longingly toward the bathroom, he was met by a savage glare that warned him to stay where he was until James was done. Blinking in mild surprise, he watched as his roommate closed the door behind him, then shrugged and hopped down from his bed. He could at least get his things ready while he waited for James...

Roughly half an hour later, Orion was sitting on his bed, kicking his legs boredly, when James finally emerged from the bathroom, and looked up at him.
"I'm going to go to the medical office now." He informed him blankly, and Orion blinked at him for a moment before dropping down off the bed again, and quickly dusting himself off. "If you give me a minute to shower I'll go with you." He offered, "Moral support and all that." With a brief shrug, he gathered up his clothes, then jogged over to the bathroom. "I won't be long." He promised, pulling the door shut behind him. It clicked softly, and then came the sound of the shower turning on as Orion began to strip off his sweat-dampened pajamas.
It only took him about ten minutes to have a rushed shower, throw on some clothes and brushed his teeth. He combed through his wet hair briefly with his fingers, then shrugged and shoved open the door, deciding it was good enough. "Okay, let's go." He said, grabbing his bag and slinging it quickly over his shoulder, then shoving his sunglasses on so quickly that he nearly poked his own eye out.
He looked up at James then, blinking expectantly, his damp green hair dripping all over his face, and blurring his vision through the shades. At this rate, he wondered if he'd even find his way to the medical office.

"If you give me a minute to shower I'll go with you. Moral support and all that." Orion offered as James moved around the room. The man got up from his bed and headed over to the bathroom. "I won't be long." He added after a moment.
James nodded and sighed, climbing back up to his own bed and arranging the covers neatly. He pulled out his music journal and flipped through the pages, suddenly wanting to just skip classes today and play all of the music he'd written. The first piece was for flute, and he almost walked over and pulled it out. But no, that would be impossible. Again, he silently cursed Blondie and Orion and himself everything else. The fact that he couldn't play music was going to drive him insane the next few days until his wrist healed. Hopefully it would only be a few days. If not... He shuddered at the thought.
He spent the rest of the time flipping through all of his music, remembering what each one was about, how it had felt to compose each piece, what he was feeling at the times, everything. Most of the sad pieces were over dumb things, like when Taylor had moved away. That had really sucked at the time, but he got over it. And quite honestly, it wasn't as bad as he had thought. They'd still talked every day over video chat. It would be nice to talk to him again, James thought. He'd send his friend a message later over Facebook or something. They both hardly used the website, but he could always try.
Finally Orion reemerge with his hair dripping wet. "Let's go." He said as he threw on a pair of sunglasses and slid on his backpack and then marched up to the door expectantly.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there, hotshot." James muttered as he set down his notebook and gingerly moved down the ladder. "I am not going to be seen with you looking like this." He reprimanded the other man as he headed into the bathroom and grabbed a towel.
When he came out, he stalked up to Orion and threw the towel over his head, rubbing it against his hair quickly. "You didn't even attempt to dry your hair!" He exclaimed with exasperation. "How can you even go out in public?!" When he had done as much as he could, he tossed the towel on the floor and puled out his pocket comb, easily running it through Orion's hair. It wasn't tangled, to his surprise. The green streak was messed up, so James concentrated carefully to put it back into place. It was unruly, though, so he gave up and sighed, standing back. He ran his eyes up and down his roommate, carefully observing his entire appearance. "You'll suffice." He said with an uncaring wave of his hand. "Let's go."

[[James, you're an asshole, holy crap.]]

((Haha. XD This guy... He's awesome. ))

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on there, hotshot."
"Hm?" Orion stopped, turning around to squint at the blurry form of James approaching him. He rubbed the droplets off his glasses with his sleeve, and by the time he could see again, James was right in front of him. He nearly jumped in surprise. 
"I am not going to be seen with you looking like this." James scolded bluntly, leaving Orion blinking stupidly at him. "What?" He asked, obviously not seeing the problem. His bemused gaze followed James as he stalked off to the bathroom, grabbing a towel, then tossing it over Orion's head. He grunted in surprise when it struck him, but before he could object, James had started scrubbing his wet hair.
"You didn't even attempt to dry your hair!" An exasperated voice said from behind the towel, "How can you even go out in public?!"
"Well, I was in a hurry..." He began weakly, then blinked in surprise when the towel was suddenly whisked off, and James started attacking him with a comb, his handsome face creased into a frown. Despite himself, Orion began to feel flustered, and as a rosy blush began heating his cheeks, he forced his gaze quickly away from James's face, hovering so close to his own.
Get a grip! He told himself harshly, swallowing the lump of nerves building in his throat, I'm being f*cking pathetic.
Several torturous seconds later, James finally decided that he was done, and stepped away. Orion had to bite back a sigh, trying hard not to look too relieved. James had taken him by surprise, there. He didn't like surprises. 
He felt his friend's eyes running over him, and again his cheeks began to colour, until James finally concluded, "You'll suffice. Let's go."
"Thanks." Orion answered, although he wasn't exactly sure what he was thanking his roommate for. Technically, James was being a bit of a pretentious prick, but Orion couldn't bring himself to be annoyed. Honestly, he appreciated it. At least his roommate was able to be straight with him; ((Ba dum tss. XD )) he appreciated that.
"You know," Orion added, hitching his bag over his shoulder as he walked out of the room with James, locking the door behind him, "If I was going to start caring what people think, I'd probably have to change my hair and eye colour, for starters. Wardrobe and personality, too. But hey..." He raked his fingers through his hair, cheekily messing up James's handiwork, "If it makes you feel better..."
His fringe flopped back over his face, somehow managing to look frustratingly stylish, despite being messed up. His hair had a habit of doing that; after it dried, it somehow always found a way to suit him, even if he could never style it. Eventually, he had just learned to coexist with his hair, and trust in its judgement to make him look respectable. Although, he supposed that was just a more elegant way of saying that he had given up trying to tame it. In any case, it served him well.

Yawning tiredly, Orion scratched his chin, then glanced vaguely around. He wasn't sure where the Medical office was, having never been there. Whenever he got hurt - which was often enough - he usually just tried to fix himself up to avoid awkward questions. He wasn't great with people at the best of times, let alone when he was trying to pass off a beating for a fall down the stairs.
"You know the way, right?" He asked suddenly, glancing curiously toward James, "And hey, how's your wrist today? Feeling any better?"
He frowned slightly, surprised at himself for being so friendly. How long had it been since he'd struck up any sort of conversation at all by choice? James's resemblance to Luke was really throwing him for a loop... It was unsettling, how quickly he was growing fond of his new roommate. Usually, if he roomed with anybody at all, he'd let a year go by saying barely a word to them. Yet with James, he almost felt as though they might become friends... That feeling was, without a doubt, a worrying one.

After a moment, James suddenly realized what he had just done. You'll suffice. Was he f*cking joking? That was something you say to... to an animal that you were buying. Or maybe a small child who gave you a hard time the entire time you dressed him that you were towing out in public. That was not something to say to you roommate.
His cheeks began to flush and he tried to begin apologizing hastily, but Orion began talking. He didn't seem even remotely angry, surprisingly enough.
"Thanks." Yeah, thanks for being a dick, James.
He followed Orion's suit and grabbed his backpack, taking a moment to rifle through his books to get the appropriate ones. Today's classes were photography - that was going to suck in his condition - and advanced musical composition. At least he could do the latter, although he probably wouldn't have either class with Orion. That was only slightly saddening to him. After all, he did have other friends. Carson would be in music with him, he knew. Alia would be in photography.
As his thoughts wandered away from going to the medical office and to the dark-haired beauty, he let out a small chuckle. Alia was wonderful. She was one of the nicest girls on campus. Although she didn't appreciate his taste in music, he had come - embarrassingly - to appreciate hers. She like electronic. He shuddered dramatically to himself. No one else in the music program could find out; if they did, that would be the end of him.
They had tried "going out" his freshman year with little success. He was always trying too hard or not trying enough - there was no in-between. The night of their first official date, he had shown up to her dorm door in a complete tuxedo outfit with a bouquet of red roses in hand, and they were only going to the moves. She had rolled her eyes and laughed, telling him he couldn't go to the movies in that. She they had just stayed inside her dorm, sitting on the couch and throwing popcorn at each other during a movie that they torrented on her laptop. It was a good time.
"If I was going to start caring what people think, I'd probably have to change my hair and eye colour, for starters. Wardrobe and personality, too. But hey... If it makes you feel better..."
James sighed. "Sorry, yeah, I shouldn't have done that, way to go James." But the "changing the eye color" part pulled him up short, and he looked at the other man suspiciously, even when he suggested that they leave for the medical office.
"You know the way, right? And hey, how's your wrist today? Feeling any better?"
"Yeah, I know the way. It feels a little better - the swelling's gone down some." He shrugged and began walking out the door. "But you can change the color of your eyes? Really?"
Somehow that thought unsettled him. Orion's face without Orion's eyes? Really anyone's face without anyone's eyes would be unsettling, but this was particularly worrisome.
"Don't do it." James shook his head in distress. "Yeah, don't do it." He offered no explanation, and he began the long walk through the twisting and turning halls of the dormitory. It was all the way on the first floor, shoved into a back corner where no injured kid would ever think to look. It was a good thing that he had interned there last year, or he'd never have known either.
When he walked in, the receptionist met him with a warm smile. She had brown ringlets and a pudgy face. She was heavyset, and in her bright red shirt, she gave the impression of a strawberry. A lovely strawberry, but a strawberry all the same.
"James!" She exclaimed, reaching over the counter to hug him. He winced as his injured wrist was carelessly banged against the surface, but it didn't hurt too much thanks to Orion's binding. "Are you back for another intern already?"
"No, Mrs. Prane." He said, feeling more than a little crushed under her arms. He turned to Orion pleadingly, but the woman eventually released him. "I'm here for an injury."
"An injury?" Her shrill voice called. "Who would hurt you?"
Shit. He hadn't thought about this part yet. "Um, no one. I would hurt myself." He made a face, but didn't glance at Orion. He quickly went through the ways one could sprain their wrist. If Orion's diagnosis were correct, any reason would work. "I, um, tripped. Fell off the ladder to my bunk because I was trying to get down while holding my flute. Luckily that didn't break."
"Luckily?" She said in exasperation. "You need to get this checked out. Who bound it?"
James jerked his thumb toward Orion. "My roommate."
First Mrs. Prane looked shocked, and then she smiled. "Lovely job. Thank you." Then she clucked at James like a disappointed mother. "Falling off your ladder... You should know better... Come into the back now, dear. Your roommate can wait out front if he likes, or just get on to class."
And with that, James was whisked into the back. He shot Orion a small smile and mouthed "thanks" before disappearing behind a door.
***
When they emerged about fifteen minutes later, James was looking pissed as hell. He angrily signed his name on the clipboard that Mrs. Prane offered to him and then looked at Orrion, golden eyes flashing with rage.
"Let's go." He muttered to the other man and walked out the door, not even waiting.
"His wrist is sprained." The woman said to Orion after James stormed out. "See that your friend doesn't take off the binding or attempt to play his instruments for at least two weeks. He told me that you predicted it was strained, and you were right, so I trust your judgment. If it looks all better at the end of two weeks, he can play. If not..." She trailed off with a shrug, and then shook her head with a small smile. "That boy puts his music above his own health, I'm telling you. Now, get out, I have work to do." She ushered Orion out of the office and then closed the door behind him. James didn't stop walking.

"Yeah, I know the way." James answered, and Orion nodded his relief. At least one of them did. He went on to mention that his wrist was already feeling a little better - this was a relief - then added, "But you can change the color of your eyes? Really?"
"Well, not really, but I could wear colour contacts..."
"Don't do it." James said suddenly, and Orion blinked in surprise at the intensity in his voice, glancing over to see him shaking his head rapidly, "Yeah, don't do it."
"Oh, I wouldn't." He tapped the side of his shades, "I'd have to give a crap first."
They carried on to the medical office in silence, though not an uncomfortable one. When they arrived, Orion hung back - shy as ever around strangers - while the receptionist squeaked James's name in an octave higher than anyone should speak, and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Even when his roommate looked to him for help, Orion didn't dare step forward. He just gave his head a mute little shake, and retreated back a step.
You're on your own now, Buddy.
He watched, arms folded across his chest, as James made up a story about how it had happened, and briefly acknowledged him for the splint. The receptionist - Mrs. Prane, she seemed to be called - looked surprised for a moment, then offered him a smile and said, "Lovely job. Thank you."
Orion just shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets and shuffling his foot shyly on the ground.
Come on Lady, don't make a big deal out of it, an ape could wind a few bandages...
With that, Mrs. Prane began leading James away. As Orion waited, his roommate glanced back at him, and he very nearly smiled when he saw a silent 'thanks' form on the boy's lips. Instead, he just nodded in a dignified fashion, and leaned back against the wall to wait, silently reading an eye test poster on the opposite wall to keep himself occupied, not that he could see it properly with his sunglasses anyway.

He didn't have to wait long - maybe a quarter of an hour - until James finally stormed out. "How'd it..." Orion began, then trailed off when he saw James's thunderous expression. Falling silent, he let his roommate storm by, and turned curiously to Mrs. Prane instead. Obviously, it hadn't gone well.
Did he break it? Tear a ligament? Shit, if he can't play...
"How is he?" Orion asked, concern quickly untying his stubborn tongue. 
"His wrist is sprained." Orion breathed a sigh of relief. Not permanent then, at least.
"See that your friend doesn't take off the binding or attempt to play his instruments for at least two weeks. He told me that you predicted it was strained, and you were right, so I trust your judgment. If it looks all better at the end of two weeks, he can play. If not..."
"Got it." Orion nodded, "I'll keep him in line."
"That boy puts his music above his own health, I'm telling you." He could believe that. "Now, get out, I have work to do."
Mrs Prane ushered him toward the door, and Orion willingly fled the room, his broad shoulders hunched up near his ears as he hurried after James.
"It'll be over sooner than you think." He said bracingly as he fell into step beside his roommate, "Until then, I'll be your guinea pig for anything you write. I'm a poor substitute, but... Well, I'll try." He clapped James briefly on the shoulder, "Anyway, I have English now, so I'll see you later." He glanced up at an overhead ceiling sign, pointing in the direction of the lecture rooms he was heading towards, and stopped. "Look after that wrist. The less you strain it, the sooner you'll be able to play again." He looked briefly down the corridor, then back to James. "I'll be around if you need me, so..." He trailed off, shrugging, then turned and walked awkwardly away, suddenly too shy to say goodbye. He wasn't usually so caring, and frankly, he wasn't sure what to do with himself when he was, particularly when it was over someone he'd only met two days ago.
Shaking off the thought, he hitched his bag more securely over his shoulder, then hurried on to his English class. He enjoyed English - possibly because that had been his choice, and not Mr. Chang's. He would never admit it, but he sometimes liked to write stories or poems in his free time; whatever came to mind, really. He just loved words, loved writing... It was a way of creating something new, giving life to a faux reality perhaps better than his own. He liked that power.

With this thought in mind, he pushed open the door to Lecture Hall thirteen A, and walked in, right down the rows of desks to find a quiet one at the back, far away from the few other students who had started filtering in, taking their seats.
He sat down himself, dropping his bag onto the ground and unpacking what he'd need. As he went through the motions, his mind began to wander back to James... Wondering what he was doing, and how he was doing with that wrist of his. He frowned. Honestly, he still felt somehow responsible for that... If he had only ignored Blondie's threats... He shuddered at the thought. He just hoped he didn't run into that punk again. After all, knowledge was power, and it seemed to him, Blondie had more knowledge about him than any stranger should.
What does he know...? Orion wondered, swallowing as a feeling of nausea rose in his throat. More importantly... How did he find out?

Suddenly there was the sound of running footsteps and someone rushed up to his side. Orion, of course. His shoulders were hunched over and he looked incredibly uncomfortable, as if he'd just had some sort of traumatizing experience. Mrs. Prane probably had something to do with that. Maybe she'd yelled at the man for not bringing James to the office sooner. That would be just like her.
"It'll be over sooner than you think.Until then, I'll be your guinea pig for anything you write. I'm a poor substitute, but... Well, I'll try."
James snorted, not wanting to be consoled. He wanted to just throw something or punch someone or break a window. Orion would never be able to play what James thought of. Maybe if the sheet music was in front of him, and it was an easy piece... but not straight from James's head. Like the piece he'd been composing about Orion. He'd never have been able to dictate that to Orion's hands - he'd needed his keyboard to jam out all of the notes and write them down. That wouldn't work with his condition.
"Anyway, I have English now, so I'll see you later. Look after that wrist. The less you strain it, the sooner you'll be able to play again. I'll be around if you need me, so..." Orion trailed off awkwardly and then left without saying goodbye. James simply grunted in acknowledgement that he'd heard the other man and the continued to his class. Photography was his only fun class, so he knew that he should be excited. Yeah, music was fun for him, but it was part of his minor. Photography, on the other hand, was completely unrelated to anything he'd ever use in life. He thought it would be fun, except now he wasn't so sure.
I probably won't even be able to operate the fucking camera. He thought to himself angrily and stormed toward the general direction of the lecture hall.
***
Aine glanced around the crowded lecture hall with a slight frown on her pale face. None of the people in the room were familiar to her, and most of the seats were already filled. She sighed - that was what she got for skipping a year in English classes.
Quietly, she roamed about the room until she found a patch of blessedly unoccupied chairs. Before she could think that there might be a reason for that, she fluttered over and sat down next to a sullen man dressed all in black. He had a stripe of lime green in his long black hair and wore sunglasses even inside. How peculiar.
"Hello!" She said cheerfully in a quiet voice to him. Her voice had a thick Irish accent to it, and it was blatantly obvious with her translucent skin and bright orange hair that she was directly from the country. Even her name gave it away. "I'm Aine. Nice to meet you."
She smiled the biggest smile that she could muster, in an attempt to make up for his lack of joy.
After a moment, she began unpacking her own bag, a tan small backpack stained with spilled coffee and tea. The books that she piled onto her desk were her textbook, - new and in perfect condition - the notebook she used for the class, a folder filled to bursting with paper, and a worn, leather covered journal. She opened up the last and began writing.
English class. Wednesday, September third. Man sitting next to me who doesn't like talking. He has a nice face. Good cheekbones. Black hair. I don't know what color his eyes are. I imagine that they are either dark black to match the rest of him, or light blue - almost colorless - to provide a contrast.
Aine looked at him again, narrowing her eyes with intent concentration, and then put the journal away. She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs. The blue flowery sundress that she wore was her favorite; she always felt like a little girl in it. In fact, she was still mentally a little girl, despite the fact that she was twenty years old already.
She tried sitting still for a little bit, but when she failed, she began fidgeting again. She opened and closed her textbook, rifled through the folder with the papers in it, and flipped through her notebook.
"Do you write?" She asked him suddenly, turning her head to face him. Her hands kept sorting through papers, though. "I feel like you write. Are you artistic? No, you don't draw..." She trailed off thoughtfully, biting her lip and looking him in the eye - through his sunglasses, of course. The the truth was, she wasn't really looking at all, just thinking, her pensive thoughts becoming words. "You don't paint either. Maybe a photographer? Musician? Writer? I'm getting the artsy vibes from you..."

[[Omfg, Aine is a little loopsy, I tell you. Also I'm pretty sure she's not 100% either. I'm just throwing all my gay characters at you and hoping for the best to be honest.]]

Orion was still lost in thought, when suddenly, the chair beside him screeched over the floor. He jumped, not expecting anybody to sit next to him, and looked up to see the brightest girl he'd seen in his life. If asked what exactly about her was bright, he honestly wouldn't have been able to say. From the squint-inducing shade of her hair, to a smile so wide it would best suit a cheshire cat, and even to her flowing blue sundress and friendly, dancing eyes - she positively oozed brightness. Suddenly, Orion was glad he had his shades. Even behind them, he felt he had to squint to see her. 
"Hello!" She chirped, her voice as bright as the rest of her, even hushed as it was, "I'm Aine. Nice to meet you."
"Hm." He grunted vaguely, taking out his textbook, and flipping to the page number that the professor had just written on the board. He had no intention of becoming chummy with this strange character. She was too friendly, and it unsettled him. 
When he didn't answer, she turned away to write in some kind of book, and at first Orion thought that she had lost interest. Then he felt her eyes upon him, and the sinking feeling of dread in his stomach began gnawing deeper.
She stared at him until his cheeks started to flush, then turned away to write some more, before finally closing what appeared to be her journal. Orion couldn't help but wonder what she'd just written, after staring at him like something in a museum.
"Do you write?" He glanced up in surprise at the question, and mumbled uncertainly, "Er..." But before he could conjure up any kind of intelligible response, Aine was rattling off again, "I feel like you write. Are you artistic? No, you don't draw... You don't paint either. Maybe a photographer? Musician? Writer? I'm getting the artsy vibes from you..."
He stared at her, truly convinced that she was crazy, then finally took a little pity. It was difficult not to interact with somebody so, well, interactive.
"I write a little." He admitted, shrugging, "And I play guitar, but I'm not much good."
Of course, he was very good, but Aine didn't need to know that.

Down below, the professor - an old lady with curly grey hair and glasses who was so short that Orion wondered if her head would even reach his hip - was quoting something from Macbeth. "Double double, toil and trouble..." Orion knew the extract well. He enjoyed the works of Shakespeare; the darker the better. Macbeth was a personal favourite of his.
Trying hard to ignore Aine - which was roughly like trying to ignore the sun - he frowned down at the board as the professor began writing something, standing on her toes. She was wearing heels, too. How was it possible to be so short? Orion shook his head, then refocused his attention on the lesson. The professor was talking about something called a 'crucible', to do with conflict in an enclosed space, supposedly meant to build tension in writing. Orion jotted down a note. He felt as if he was in a crucible right then, trapped in class with Aine's too-friendly presence beside him. He cast her a wary glance, hoping that she would not attempt to speak with him again. He really wasn't keen on making any friends - it would only cause trouble for him. Anxious, he looked at his watch. Another half hour to go. He heaved a deep sigh, and began taking down more notes, not even sure of what he was writing at this point.

Writer. Aine wrote down after pulling out the journal again. Musician. She glanced at him again. The man was intently taking notes. I don't even know his name.
With a sigh, she stuffed the journal in her bag again and finally paid attention to the lecture. There was nothing interesting about it. She'd never really been a fan of Shakespeare, and the fact that they were learning about it the first day didn't exactly sit well with her.
After about two minutes of wanting to cry because she was so bored, she pulled out a little piece of paper and scribbled a note.
Party at the junior dorm tonight. Please come.
Since this guy didn't seem like the type to typically come, she added:
I know where you sleep; I'll drag you there if I have to. To make it less threatening, she added a smiley face and signed her name, and then passed it to the man next to her. Then she got up and left the hall, not bothering to look back for the man's reaction. The skirt of her blue sundress swirled behind her.

To his relief, no further words were spoken, but towards the end of the lecture, a note was passed his way. He flinched as Aine's fingers brushed his, pushing the crumpled paper into his hand, and he looked up at her, frowning in confusion. She had already got up to leave. Closing his fist, he felt the sharp edges of the paper press into his palm, and sighed deeply. What was it now?
Wearily, he opened it up, and scanned the contents. His heart fell.
A party? He had really hoped that by his third year of university, he would have managed to avoid most of those.
His eyes traced the words, jaw growing heavy with despair as he read again, 'I know where you sleep; I'll drag you there if I have to.' He knew she meant it, too.
What should I do?
Lips pulled into a tight line, he shoved the note into his pocket and gathered up his things. Perhaps it would be for the best to go. It would get James's mind off his wrist, in any case.

Brightened by this thought, Orion nodded decisively, then hurried on through the tall double doors, and out into the corridor. He would take the hit for his roommate. With Aine's pushiness, he doubted he'd manage to avoid the party anyway. It would attract less fuss if he went of his own accord, and just lay low in the corner. Besides, watching the other drunk bastards fall over each other always gave him a little savage amusement. 

By the time he arrived back at his room that evening, Orion had just about resigned himself to going. He pushed open the door to find that James had got there ahead of him, and acknowledged his presence with a grunt of greeting, and a brief nod of his head. Trudging over to his bed, he heaved off the strap of his bag cutting into his shoulder and dumped it on the ground, then rubbed the sore spot with a frown.
"You hear about the party?" He asked wearily, leaning over to pick some clean clothes out of his suitcase. He had never finished unpacking, despite having so few belongings with him.
"I guess we have to go, huh?"
He could not have sounded less excited if he'd tried.
"I mean, I don't suppose there's a way out of it." I would know. I looked damn hard to find one.
"Well, at least there'll be booze." He shot James a glance, "You're going, right? I don't really know anyone else, so..." He trailed off, not wanting to sound as pathetic to James as he did to himself in his head. What was he going to do, follow his roommate around like a lost puppy because he had no other friends?
Really manly, Orion. Really independent. That was attractive, for sure.
Sighing away his sarcasm, he tossed his clothes over his arm, and trudged into the shower.
"See you in a minute." He said resignedly, "I'll dry my hair this time, so I don't embarrass you."

***

About an hour later, James and Orion trudged into the party - the latter rather reluctantly - and were instantly assaulted by a cacophony of loud noises, and even louder colours. Drunk catcalls echoed from one side of the room to the other, and here and there a scuffle broke out. A few couples were kissing noisily on the couch in the corner. Orion stopped in the doorway and observed the scene with distaste, as though he'd rather be anywhere else in the world.
"Oh God," He muttered under his breath, "I'm in Hell."
Which begs to question, why the f*ck did I come in the first place?
"There. Booze." He pointed across the room, to where a tall wooden table was sporting several half-empty bottles of alcohol, and one drooling drunk, fast asleep on the polished mahogany.
"Whattayou drink?" He grunted to James as they reached the table, quickly securing a space among the drunk girls giggling and sloshing beer down their tight tank tops. Orion sneered his repulsion. He seized a pair of plastic cups from across the table, and handed one to James, stepping smartly to one side as a drunk girl stumbled toward him, reaching for his shoulder. She fell into the table instead, cursing. Just as well; he wasn't interested in fending off any drunk advances. People forgot to avoid him sometimes when they'd had too much to drink; girls in particular. He was not a bad-looking guy, after all, even if he did dress as if he'd just stepped out of a Bullet For My Valentine music video.
This is going to suck. He thought moodily, grabbing a bottle of Amarula and some Peppermint Liqueur, and mixing himself a shot. 
Why on earth did I come here? ((Because My will be done, Oreo. ))

Orion actually looked presentable to go to this party, so James didn't bother fussing over his slightly damp hair. Since this was a more casual occasion, he traded his khakis for a pair of faded blue jeans, sagging them slightly in the current fashion. This would be his first party since the one from his house. He shuddered at the memory and threw open the doors to the room, making an entrance like he owned the place. Orion, however, seemed a little more reluctant.
Immediately they headed over to the booze table, which was surrounded by a horde of giggling girls in skimpy outfits, holding red cups in one hand and steadying themselves on the wall with the other. The waved and winked at the two men as they grabbed their own drinks. One girl stumbled toward Orion, but he dodged her expertly, and she crashed into the table instead. Some of the cups tipped over, soaking her shirt completely. She gave a small yelp of distress but then started laughing, trying her luck on James instead. He found the dampness of her clothes utterly repulsive, but he didn't send her away.
"Hey baby," she murmured as she pressed up close to him. He could smell the alcohol on her breath, feel her breasts pressing against his chest. Her platinum blonde hair glimmered dully in the low light of the room.
"Hey," he answered back, voice cracking just slightly. She started laughing and was about to make a joke about it to her friends. James sensed this, and cut her off by leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.
As he pulled away, he was grateful that she didn't respond as badly as she was entitled to - she was too drunk to, it seemed. The girl simply giggled and lightly pushed him away, a coy smile on her lips.
"...want me, but my boyfriend's over there." She gave a small nod to the crowd of people gathering in the center of the room. "But, if you're that desperate..." She pressed closer to him and reached her hand downwards, grabbing the material of his jeans over his crotch. "You can come and find me later." She whispered sensually into his ear.
With that, she backed away and returned to her group of friends, flashing James a wink over her shoulder.
The man let out a deep breath and turned to Orion, a proud grin settled on his lips. "I'm beating you," he said with a chuckle, just as a delicate red-head approached them. She was wearing strange clothes for such a scandalous party - a navy blue sundress with large white flowers patterned over it. The neckline didn't fall down low enough to reveal her cleavage, and the skirt went all the way down to the tops of her knees. James pursed his lips in a pensive frown.
"I'm glad to see you came!" She chirped happily when she finally stood in front of them. She was talking to Orion, though, not James.
The blonde let out a quiet snort of amusement and took another long drink of his beverage.

As Orion tossed back a shot, he heard the squeaky voice of the drunk blonde who had accosted him move over to James, and watched protectively out of the corner of his eye as she flopped against him, looking more like a sack of damn potatoes than the sexy playgirl she so clearly thought she was. She and James exchanged an awkward greeting, then suddenly, he kissed her. Orion uttered a sound of disgust under his breath, perhaps more repulsed than he should have been, and grabbed a bottle of vodka, pouring himself a whole glass, then taking a gulp. It tasted like shit and burned like fire, but at the very least it number the raging disgust that he felt toward the skank who now had a hand at James's crotch. He felt like punching her. Did she have no self respect at all?
His eyes followed her with a death stare as she waltzed away. Then, hearing James's voice beside him, he looked back to find his roommate grinning proudly. "I'm beating you." James chuckled, and before Orion could voice his disgust about whatever sort of twisted 'competition' this was, a familiar figure suddenly popped through the crowd, appearing with a dazzling grin which made Orion push his sunglasses up his nose. 
"I'm glad to see you came!" Aine exclaimed, and Orion clutched his glass of Vodka protectively in response, scowling from behind his sunglasses. "That makes one of us." He grumbled, "You say it like I had a choice."
He might have said more, but at that moment, another drunk girl wandered over to tap him on the shoulder. Before she could say a word, Orion flashed a withering glare, and spat, "Oh, piss off! You smell like a brewery!" Her eyes widened, and she blinked at him in dumb shock for a moment, then turned around and wandered off, looking rather dazed. He thought he heard her sob.
"Ugh," He took another sip of Vodka, and shuddered at the burning, "Disgusting."
He sighed heavily, and looked up to fine Aine watching him as if he'd grown a second head. Was the girl he'd just blown off particularly hot or something? He hadn't really noticed. He just couldn't look beyond the repulsive lack of judgement, and equally repulsive lack of clothing. It was like they had no shame at all.
"Aine, this is James." He grumbled, shoving his hands moodily into his pockets, "When I split, see to it that he has a good time, at least."
((Oreo, you do not realize how inappropriate that sounds. XD Good job, you poor gay flower. ))

James glanced over the girl with a bemused glance as she and Orion exchanged a few words. Apparently she was the one who had forced him to come - not James. Somehow that made him feel a little strange, but another gulp of alcohol washed the feeling away. He wasn't really paying attention to Orion when he was attacked by yet another drunken girl, whom he promptly pushed away with a look of disgust. His eyes were scanning the crowd again, to see if there were any familiar faces. A few of the kids from his chemistry class were here, he saw. No sign of Alia or Carson, but that wasn't surprising. They weren't the type to frequent these sorts of events.
He stopped short when he spotted a head of long blonde hair. The man was grinding against a tall brunette, who was waving a red cup in the air, swaying back and forth slowly. It was none other than Blondie; it would be just James's luck to be in this situation.
His attention was pulled back to Orion when the man introduced him to the girl.
"Aine, this is James. When I split, see to it that he has a good time, at least."
"What makes you say I'm going to let you leave?" Aine says with a small smile. She was looking at him with a queer light in her eyes and a small smile on her face. Her head was cocked slightly to the side in a knowing manner. All in all, it was mildly creepy.
James sighed and clapped Orion on the shoulder. "Listen, we probably should leave right now anyway. Your favorite person in the entire world is here." He nodded subtly to the dance floor. "We don't want him over here with another chloroform rag again, do we?"
"Chloroform?" Aine said in that heavy accent of hers. It looked as if she were racking a mental dictionary, searching for the appropriate definition. Her mouth opened wide as she figured out what it was, and she looked like she was about to say something. James was tempted to kiss her to get her to shut up too, but luckily, she didn't speak.
James glanced back at Orion again for his reaction.