She grew curious, however, of the stranger she had married. The feeling grew stronger every night when he would lay beside her, shrouded in darkness, insisting that she never actually lay eyes upon him. The more it ate at her, the less willing she was to ignore her instincts and bend to his will. Finally, she was fed up with it. Was it an ogre she had wed? Or some other hideous monster. She raised her lantern, knife clutched in the hand behind her back at the ready for any such awful creature. As the fire's glow parted the darkness over the face that dreamt on the pillow before her, she gasped, and a drop of oil splashed out onto the sleeping angel, startling him out of his slumber. He rounded on her, a look of betrayal crossing his face.

Eridan jolted awake, and kicked off his covers, his body covered in a cold sweat. His nightmare had been growing progressively more intense as the start of the semester approached. It was always the same thing- blood, darkness, sobbing, and the most intense feeling of emotional pain he had ever felt. Every morning up until now, he had brushed it off, blaming it solely on nerves. But to be completely honest, it frayed his nerves even more. Especially last night's.

It was the shrill scream that had broken the last fragments of hope in those dreams, giving way to despair and hopelessness.

Eridan shook his head as he pulled on his clothes and stumbled, exhausted, to his kitchenette. Classes started today. Luckily, not for another couple hours, but his heart still raced at the thought. He sank into his chair, coffee in one hand, his dream book in the other. He had been consorting with it since the nightmares started- but it hadn't been very helpful. As much as Eridan believed in the whole Astrology and star thing, the answers were getting more and more vague, and he was getting pretty damn frustrated with it.

Finally, he slammed it down on the table, scowling as he dragged himself to his feet, and to his coat rack. Fine. If the stars weren't going to help him, he was going to clear his mind with a walk. The only acceptable alternative for someone as well off as himself. Twirling his favorite scarf around his neck, he shuffled into his shoes and jacket, and stepped out of his dorm. He had been lucky (or wealthy) enough to get his own place. The dorm was his alone- just as he liked it. Though, he supposed mildly, he wouldn't really mind company. Especially that of his best friend/cousin, Feferi, whom he had followed to this school- partially upon her aunt's request, and partially of his own stupid selfish motives.

Still, she was angry with him at the time being, and was ignoring his calls and texts, despite the completely reasonable threats and or apologies.

Oh, right. That could be part of why Eridan was in such a foul mood these last couple weeks. It sucks to be ignored by the only person that gave you the time of day.

Eridan ducked into his scarf as a cold wind hit him, biting his skin even through the sturdy barrier of his coat. It was already a frigid end to the year- and winter hadn't even started yet. He dreaded finding out what the campus would feel like in four months. He knew already where the best places to walk in order to avoid the cold were- but the winds were bitter and unkind enough that they reached even there.

He wandered aimlessly across the campus, yawning into his hand. While some half of him was craving coffee, the other half argued that the line would be WAY too long to waste time on. Especially with students who had blown off a good nights rest to do whatever the fuck it was that social students did the night before the beginning of the semester.

The logical side of his mind quipped in with the fact that he himself had blown off a good night's sleep, but who needs the logical side of their mind. What did they know. Still, Eridan was having a hard time keeping out the mental image of himself with a nice latte, and he gave in pretty quickly.
Normally, he had his own supply of beans in his apartment- but he had run out the day before, and wasn't going to get the chance to get more until later tonight after classes.
Which meant he had to settle for whatever shitty coffee the cafe down the street had to offer.

He pushed in through the door, stepping around a girl digging through her shoulder bag to find her wallet before she stepped in line.

Automatically, out of habit, Eridan's eyes scanned the cluster of people, wondering mildly what their backstories were. He loved to people watch. Even more than that, he enjoyed coming up with back stories to the people he saw. The girl sitting by the window came from a middle class family- her mother had walked out on her and her father, leaving the two to make do on their own. Her favorite hobbies were collecting strange rocks she found, and she had graduated at the top of her class, getting a rather fat scholarship, which is why she was able to afford to go to this school for her archaeological degree. The young man at the cash register had just broken up with his girlfriend, and was up every night writing his own love story on the old antique typewriter she had bought him on their anniversary two years previous, determined to show her up with the help of his English major.

Eridan fabricated these stories in a heartbeat, and enjoyed every second of it. He was a theatre student, and characterizing the people around him was easy. He was about halfway through the room of his new characters in the story of his life when the cashier cleared his throat, and Eridan realized he was holding up the line in his daze.

"You don't have to be so fuckin rude about it," he muttered as he stepped up to order his coffee. "A simple, 'you're next, sir' would suffice."

He said it quiet enough that no one heard, but the cashier noticed the dirty look and rolled his eyes, handing him the receipt.

"Maybe you're the one that needs to mind their manners instead of being a pretentious asshole," came a sharp voice from behind him, and Eridan whirled to face his opponent. He was a twig- a good three inches taller than Eridan, had short light brown hair, and wore the most atrocious excuse for a jacket he had ever seen. His appearance was ghastly- and that wasn't even counting his broken glasses held together with a piece of duct tape.

"I'll take criticism from someone who doesn't look like they've slept in a sewage ditch for the last month. Until you are that person, please don't bother trying to preach on my attitude," Eridan snapped back, crossing his arms over his well tailored coat. "Not like you're the epitome of manners."

His latte appeared on the counter, and he snatched it up, whirling on his heel and marching out without giving the gutter-trash boy another glance.