Ohtori Choutarou stifled a groan.
The essay in front of him consisted of a single paragraph, and out of which only about twenty words made any sense at all to him. His eyes felt like they were being sandpapered each time he blinked, and god, he had a headache the size of something very very large. In a rare fit of impatience and irritation, he snatched the paper up and proceeded to tear it into halves, and then quarters, before messily reducing the rustly remnants of his homework into confetti.
Outside, Shishido laughed, taking a swig of his beer.
He'd given up on homework.
Muffled voices and the occasional burst of raucous laughter made him frown.
Wasn't this his apartment as well? Maybe he was just being a little oversensitive, but shouldn't Shishido-san have had called him to ask if it was okay to invite what seemed like the entire billiards club over for beer on a weekday? Not that he'd object vehemently, of course, especially since he knew a few of them personally, but wasn't it common courtesy to have at least had informed him?
Of course not.
Eyeing the clutter upon his desk and the bits of paper that still littered the area, Choutarou sighed, suppressing the urge to fetch a broom. Why had he done that again?
From the sound of it, Choutarou deduced, they were all probably too drunk to see straight.
Somehow it didn't stop them from making more noise than should be made at this unholy hour of the night.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he took in a sharp breath of air and exhaled slowly.
His headache wasn't getting any better.
Not a headache.
Migraine was the word.
He barely managed to refrain from throwing something at the alarm clock.
Seriously considering feigning illness so he could stay home to complete his essay, Choutarou dragged himself off the bed, completely dreading lecture later that day.
In between the stress that gnawed at the corner of his mind and the absolutely infuriating migraine that refused to leave, he'd gotten little to no sleep at all. Nerves completely on edge and patience greatly suffering from fatigue, he did the only logical thing – look for coffee.
Padding silently across the living room – he snorted as he passed the couch, pointedly ignoring the man sprawled out untidily across it, deep in slumber – and headed for the kitchen, only to find breakfast waiting for him. Coffee too.
Stifling a small yawn, he unceremoniously dumped the pillow and comforter he'd retrieved from Shishido-san's room onto the man.
It didn't mean that he was getting away with it.
Not at all.
Shutting the door behind him, Choutarou managed a little quirk of lips as he made his way to the ramen shop nearby to buy Shishido-san's breakfast.
Skipping school for the day wasn't really a big deal anyway.
I'm no angel but I can make you smile
And that's the way it is.
-Diana Degarmo [Emotional]
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