Chapter Text
Blueish grey, floating, dragging everything with itself, closing his eyes, a single rain droplet kissing his pale skin, gliding down the reddened flesh. Voices echoing through the crowds, silhouettes running, some even slightly brushing his tall frame with their shoulders.
A crow, flying over the young man's head, his eyes following as it landed for a brief second, stole something and finally took off even faster than it landed. Eyes closing again, imagining his body would take off, would float over the city, over all past lovers, all past enemies, imagining his body would travel through time and fix things.
A frown. Heart pounding, hammering, screaming for release from Nick's tightening chest.
Why is it so bad today, it tried to ask by pounding and pounding until Nick couldn't endure it anymore.
Legs moving on it's own, towards the students, muttering a sadistic prayer in hopes of having to solve a conflict or even break up a fight, anything to cleanse his mind from the sorrowful fog spreading within him.
"Mr. Nelson!" a shriek girl voice, a group of 3 girls approaching, their faces decorated with awkward but also goofy smiles, typical for girls their age.
"Yes?" turning on his heels, smiling nicely, hopeful, hopeful to have found distraction, to have them ask him anything. But not what awaited the young teacher.
"Do you have a girlfriend?" a question so innocent, just like the group of prepubescent girls, still gut wrenching.
The blueish grey sky, now colored in a dark grey, let its tears fall down onto Nick, doing what he couldn't.
"No, I don't. Do you?" laughter erupting from the girls, oblivious to the wound inside of the ginger haired man ripping open, burning.
"I don't, I have a boyfriend!" the girl smiled, proudly, earning another gentle smile as they remained in silence, rain whipping Nick's skin, hiding the sadness.
"Wait!" one of the girls widened her eyes, stepping forward, asserting herself.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Nick just laughed.
Every laugh, every smile he gifted, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, a stinging feeling in his chest.
It has not hurt me like this in years, he thought, why would it hurt me now?
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Velour, dark brown, darker with each stroke, the soothing feeling of fabric calming the storm inside of him. Finger tips tracing over it, a heart, quickly wiped away with his cold fist, then a smiling face, wiped away again, lastly a sad face, wiped away rapidly, burying the evidence of the war within him. Silence, nothing but thoughts devouring him, teasing and torturing him. Whenever he tried to erase them, he found his brain in confusion, wondering what brought him so close to edge, what taunted him.
He had no answer. His thoughts kept screaming at him, incomprehensible, in tongues, the devil himself. Survival experts tell everyone to listen to their gut feeling, "it always knows when something is wrong". But what could be wrong in the teachers lounge? No sound, no company, no apparent danger, but also no explanation.
The white walls hurt his head, reflecting the white light, torturing his sensitive eyes; red, itchy, blood-shot. Emptiness always caused discomfort in him as it reflected what he felt, the reflection of it unwanted, unpleasent. At times Nick would just stare, stare into the emptiness, let it take over, dominate him, a saddening comfort he had yet to discover elsewhere. The few plants placed in the lounge were slowly decaying a stark contrast to the outside, which would soon blossom as spring approached. Nick has watched them, always. Everything has changed and soon everything will change again.
Voices, outside of his head, outside of the door to the teachers lounge, an immediate awkwardness spreading through his tall and broad frame, awakening the desire to be small and petite, to transform into a mouse and disappear into a hole until the outside seemed safe again. Instead he jumped onto a bean bag, attempting to hide the shame his brain produced just from standing near the couch.
Giggling, a high yet soothing voice, not recognizable yet, a deeper, lower voice answering, everything subdued by the thick wooden door, Nick tried to decipher every word. The voices inside of his head chanted, mocked and laughed at him, his gut feeling kept telling him to get out. The same question, again; But why?
More light, then shadows, his eyes staring blankly at his laptop, staring into safety and familiarity, his background picturing him, shirtless, wrapped in a big beach towel, laughing, beaming, two girls, Tara and Darcy, held up on one arm each, all laughing, carefree. Familiarity. Comfort. The known.
"Nick!" his head shot up, smiling, friendly, respectfully.
Everything died down. The voices, the chanting. Cotton shoved down his eardrums, inaudible, his eyes stuck to the two silhouettes in front of him. Slim legs, hugged by tight black jeans, a long, skinny torso, a brown sweatshirt hanging on its fragile frame, his neck's tan washed out from the winter's depressing darkness, lips- red, thin, face- long, his cheeks hiding the comforting depth of its dimples, those crystal blue eyes, filled with hostility.
"This is Charlie Spring, he is starting here tomorrow, he'll teach," math, he added in his head. Just as they once imagined. Just as they once dreamt.
Heavy breaths, satisfied smiles, thick, warm air surrounding the two sweaty bodies. Naked skin sticking together, the air full of unspoken words.
"I will miss this." Nick's voice, raspy, low and still dreamy from the heavy orgasm just minutes earlier.
"Me too," Charlie turned on his stomach, smearing the remains of Nick onto the sheets as his eyes travelled over his boyfriend's soft features.
"But soon you'll be off to uni and I? I'm stuck at Truham." a change in atmosphere, briefly yet noticeable.
The older boy turned as well, his face mere millimetres away from Charlie's.
"Imagine, us in 10 years, I teach English and French, you teach Math and something else that is way too complicated for me," the curly haired man giggled, batting his lashes while he continued to listen to Nick.
"We will teach at the same school, make out every break, have lots of sex,"
"That would get us arrested." both chuckled, remembering how Coach Singh caught them making out shortly after they got together.
"We will be okay, yeah? I love you."
"Nick?" Maya, the plus sized woman tried to get his attention back, noticing how he lost track during their conversation.
"Oh, ehm, hi." a smile, forced.
Charlie stared, the same hostility, Maya oblivious to the chaos that had just begun.
Always trust your gut feeling. If something is wrong, it will tell you.