the one where the cat is guilty

by thezol

"Tell me one thing Clarington, does your ego matches your dick? Because if that's the case; then you can beat the man with a scrotum of 132 pounds." The defiance was clear and wide open. Hunter answered it with a dark chuckle. "You wish to- …" "Oh good Lord! Enough both of you!"

The one where the cat is guilty ● Huntbastian.

Words: 51.618

Genre: General/Drama/Hurt/Comfort… Sarcasm?

Triggers: Struggles with anorexia nervosa and prejudices. (Specifically in the seventh part, you must be extremely careful with the triggers.)

A/N: Hi! I admit that +50 000 words can be hard and kind of tedious to read... So, if you enjoy reading while listening to music, you can go to my tumblr... .com and click on the only page link, it's named "music to the ears". You'll find the playlist that inspired me to write the present fic.

No bothering you anymore, I hope you enjoy the fic ^-^

I

"Oui maman, je te rappelle plus tard, non, je ne l'oublierai pas." The smooth soft voice resonated through the lonely room, the sound of the door closing didn't alert the birds that were taking a comforting sun bath in the edge of the diminutive balcony, that had the door of glass open, making the white curtain dance at the compass of the cold breeze of autumn. The repetitive resonance of silky French didn't alert the birds either… they are used to.

A pair of steps that held a natural sensuality oblivious to the owner, echoed thanks to the perfectly polished wooden floor, the almost synchronized sounds were muffled when black shoes stepped on a blue/red tie, moments later the birds could hear the sound of the contact clothes against clothes, and then black shoes stepped on a deep blue blazer.

The only occupant of the room started to remove the buttons on his wrists, but the battle between removing his shirt and keeping his phone from failing was starting to exasperate his precariously patient nerves.

"Oui, je comprends que vous êtes occupé… mais je suis trop!"

Apparently the conversation was an important factor in the exasperation present in the seventeen year old boy; who closed his eyes and hold his breath for a couple of seconds, before letting escape his tiredness in a sigh. Slowly he opened his eyes again and gazed towards the door, the last thing he needed was the unwelcome company of his insufferable roommate and his never ending sermons about not letting the clothes on the floor.

"Mère écoutez-moi!..." With a rapid movement he diverted his gaze to the front and…

"Merde! What the-!?... What?... I mean…Quoi?... I'll call-Shit!… maman, je t'appelle plus tard." Not thinking about the consequences or repercussions, with a detached touch he ended the transatlantic phone call.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing, at first his lips were parted by millimeters and he couldn't get out of his incredulity… there was… there was blood, like real blood, like… for real… in his bed! HIS BED!

HIS BED!

Blood…bed…his…

His brain was having a severe lack of oxygen, because he couldn't form any thoughts, because…

THERE WAS BLOOD IN HIS BED!

And it wasn't like tiny drops; there were big stains with-with… Arg! So disgusting!, an-and-with grey feathers…

Wait… feathers?

The oxygen was returning little by little while the boy tilted his head in confusion and non-gelled hazelnut locks clouded his camp of vision.

"Meow."

Stop the thinking, he already knows what happened.

Bright colored jades glared with deadly wishes to the origin of that sound.

In the farthest corner of his bed, leaning against the wall, was purring contently a giant ball of white fur.

The ball of fur had a name, Mr. Puss (never let a closeted-at-least-bi-curious-army-brat to name a pet), and it came with the package of the annoying being of Hunter Clarington, his roommate. Don't get him wrong, he likes (loves) animals, he strongly believes that their company is much more enjoyable than most human beings, actually he has (had) an excellent relationship with the feline but... Seriously?! HIS BED!?

"Meow." The domesticated (yeah, right) cat at seeing that it had the full attention of the green-eyed teen, feline pupils dilated even more and the purrs become more audible, the beautiful cat rolled a few times and stayed with his stomach up, the constant swishes of the furry tail were an indication that was happily waiting for the caresses that were never denied...

The nerve of this cat.

"GET OUT OF MY BED!" To make an emphasis the brunette pointed the bed just a few steps behind, it was Clarington's... Why Oh-Why the satanic cat doesn't bother his owner!

"Meow?" The cat sat serenely and tilted his head just like minutes ago the teen just did. In that position anybody could see the drops of blood on the neck of the feline, if the mess in the bed wasn't enough, the drops just ended the neon sign above the head of the cat saying "GUILTY".

"Don't-just-stop it! You and I? We are SO over!" Apparently his lack of oxygen wasn't over because he didn't notice that he was fighting... with a cat.

To his favor Mr. Puss seemed to understand perfectly because his ears perked up and went to the pillows, the cat introduced half of his body between the pillows and his bed.

What on earth...

Long eyelashes made contact with freckled skin every time that the young man blinked in confusion.

"Oww what's that smell..." The brunette boy covered with both hands his nose, and by reflex he closed his eyes, when he opened them again the view that greeted him made him bent a little, and just years of gaining self-control were what stopped him from vomiting right there.

"Jesus fucking...What ARE you? Half cat, half cousin of Quentin Tarantino!?"

The scene was beyond grotesque it was... there was... what it used to be a pigeon... used to, because the fucking cat removed the entire freaking head of the poor bird.

Oh gosh the organs were now spread on his bed!... Wait... Was that the intestine?

Feeling lightheaded he ran a shaky hand through silky locks. This wasn't happening... The captain of the Warblers was SO going to pay for this.

To make things worse the birds on the balcony started to chirp, from the corner of his eye he saw how the eyes of the feline of Satan were pure black and the white strands on his back started to bristle.

In record time he went to the mini door of glass and closed it.

"You listen to me you-you demon! No more killing! Leave those birds alone! And forget about me giving you my portion of beacon from breakfast! You know what? Forget about me! Let's see how you are going to survive with your owner! I bet he is going to make you exercise when he realizes that you are now fat!"

"Meow!"

"Yeah you heard me! You are fat!"

II

"... And I was thinking that at the end Sebastian could sing something from McFly, like Party Girl or something."

Dark turquoises looked down at the smaller boy with condescendence.

"What? He did it well with The Wanted and One Direction, why we'll ever change the formula?"

In the corridors of Dalton Academy numerous students were returning to their dorms, others were going to the library, others were going outdoors to enjoy the pleasant weather, and others to their respective clubs, it was a normal afternoon where nothing disturbs the well behaved teens from their goals. Although a specific teen would defer.

"I'm not saying that he would do it wrong.." The monotonous tone in the voice of said teen was a hint of the annoyance that he was feeling and wasn't going to hide for much longer. The last days have been consummating, he misses his old school, he misses the feeling of familiarity, and quite frankly he couldn't wait to return home for the holidays to be surrounded of people of his own age that were like him, teens that weren't whining every five minutes to catch a break in the middle of a singing rehearsal.

Today was a Warbler free day, that means that he should be practicing with the swim team, but he was in no mood of hearing whispered rumors behind his back, the new one was about him using steroids... So WHAT if he looks older than an average eighteen year old guy?!... It's not his fault that the lazy asses can't swim as fast as he can... Stupid privileged preppy boys.

Like anybody could guess (except the chatty Warbler at his side), he wasn't in the mood for the swim team either, so he cancelled the practice of that club too.

Unfortunately Thad saw it as an opportunity to talk about Regionals.

"I mean yeah, last time Bas couldn't stop complaining about singing One Direction...and he threatened us."

"You." Without really paying attention the captain interrupted.

"What?" The black haired young man stopped his steps for a couple of instants.

"He specifically warned you and Duval." If the taller boy become aware of the lack of steps at his side, it didn't show, he kept walking towards the solicitude and quietness of his room.

Outsiders of the conversation saw how Thad almost ran in the middle of the corridor to walk beside Hunter Clarington.

"Yeah... Wes and David had to come to convince him..." Black eyebrows furrowed in concentration, like if convincing Sebastian Smythe to sing another song from a boy band was the puzzle of a lifetime.

Hunter raised an eyebrow watching from the corner of his eye the other boy... before staring ahead and let a minuscule sign of a smirk appear. It always amuses him how guys that were at mere months of attending the top universities of the country were afraid of a guy that with a bag of Oreos Fudge and a glass of milk becomes a sleeping boy that curls AND purrs.

"You think that they'll come again if we say that it's an S.S emergency?" The uncertainty in the Hispanic boy would've been laughable in other times.

Hunter just grunted and without caring about being rude, accelerated the velocity of his steps. Great, now people were coming to tell him what to do. He knows that... what were their names?... David and...Whatever, were just giving advices and were very fond of the Warblers and... they are very protective of all of them including Smythe, and yeah they were helpful last time they came, but he can't stand other people giving orders (advices) to HIS team and that includes the French boy, only HE can give him orders.

Let's not remember the irking burning sensation that he felt at seeing how the green eyed boy magically agreed to whatever those two said last time they visited, the boy was a ball of charm and smiles, he didn't sneak out, was just fifteen minutes late... he was like a freaking angel. The whole thing made him want to punch the older men back to their colleges. He came to the conclusion that the brunette just did it to piss him off, to contradict his authority, he knows that there was no way that Smythe would agree with those two instead of him... right?

Now it was the turn of Thaddeus to look wary at the taller young man a couple of steps ahead of him. He said something wrong? Keeping his distance he saw how the normally imperturbable captain was deep in thought with his eyebrows furrowed and a vein of his neck was tense.

Huh.

"Then... Could you kind off ask him nicely (order) to sing McFly?"

If Thad was Jeff he would have yelped, or if he was Trent he would have screamed, or ran if he was Nick, but he just took a couple of long steps back almost paralyzed when the much taller (and stronger much stronger) eighteen year old young man stopped and inhaled in exasperation making the already strong shoulders look more broader.

Fuck, he annoyed him.

Dark aquamarine eyes looked at him from above his shoulder. "Thad..." The polite tone was so fake that the black haired Warbler would have preferred a scream.

"... why don't you discuss Smyhte's songs with Smythe? Contrary to popular believe I do not enjoy arguing with him."

"Ri- righ- ght... Of course! Is just that there is a tiny... miscalculation in your suggestion."

"What miscalculation?"

"Bas doesn't give a damn."

This time Hunter sighed defeated while he massaged the bridge of his nose. Nobody this annoying could survive 48 hours in Colorado Springs.

The dark haired blond knows that the last words are a complete lie, he knows the type of person Sebastian Smythe is... is the type of person that always gets what he wants and does whatever his mischievous mind wants. If he wouldn't give a damn about the Warblers long time ago the teen would have leaved.

But he doesn't have the energy, time or cares enough to explain it to Thad. Brushing the short hairs at the back of his head he tried to camouflage his condescendence.

He is really close to his room now... so close.

"Hardwood, why don't you wait for the next reunion and that way you could all choose a definitive song, so then I can be sure that's the song everybody wants... Just... try thinking something else besides McFly." He even placed a hand in the thin shoulder of his classmate, trying to reassure the idea in the thick head. It was so annoying, he hates the unnecessary contact.

"Westlife?"

"... Besides any boy band."

"Enrique Iglesias?"

"Keep thinking." Ending the conversation with a couple of slightly stronger than necessary pats on the shoulder, the dark blond reassumed his mission.

Only to...

"Kings of Leon?... Oh! Muse!"

"Thad I swear to God that if you don't disappear of my sight in the next three seconds I'll personally THROW you by that window."

"You know... say whatever you want but, only when you are arguing and having eyesex with Smythe is when you seem like an actual human being and not... a super soldier or something."

"One... two..." If you hit him, he'll bruise like a peach, and that might be a reason to get expelled, and go to prison... The Speedy Gonzalez's death was worth it?

"Hee-e-y! I need to borrow the Latin notes from Bas! I was just trying to make conversation on the way!" Thad raised his arms in a mocking way of surrender.

"..." The glare he sent was enough to make a full-grown man cry. But instead, Thad kept staring at him with concentration, completely oblivious (ignoring) to the death vibes sent on his way.

Apparently since Smythe was brainless enough to disobey him and Dalton continues to accept his lack of respect towards any authority figure, and keeps getting his way... Now it seems that the friends of the dumbass want to try it too.

He hates Dalton!

"Huh Bas was right..." The Hispanic mumbled aloud before walking ahead.

"What do you mean by that?!"

"Huh? Oh... that Bastian told us that you have a wrinkle between your eyebrows... we were betting how old you really are."

That little piece of...

"AND FORGET ABOUT SLEEPING WITH ME AGAIN! I WON'T FORGET THIS!"

In complete silence both teens stared at the door situated at their front.

Room H97.

Clarington's... and dumbass company.

"Sebastian is breaking up with somebody?... Sebastian was with somebody long enough to break with that somebody?" Thad whispered without removing his eyes from the door.

All murdering thoughts disappeared from the mind of the blue eyed young man.

What on earth... was that...?

"STAY AWAY FROM ME! YOU'LL NEVER TOUCH ME AGAIN!"

...Smythe?

His eyebrows were raised while he blinked completely and utterly... confused.

He didn't even notice the smaller hand on his back.

"Well man... Latin can wait... see ya... and GOOD LUCK!"

In a blink of an eye the black haired Warbler disappeared by the nearest corner that the poor soul could find.

Great.

Just...

... great.

Now he has to deal with...

"KEEP YOUR TONGUE WHERE I CAN WATCH IT!"

... He has no idea.

With resentment (hate) he looked at the wooden ceiling. "This is why I don't believe in your existence; because there is no way that I deserve this type of crap!" His deep voice whispered angrily to a hypothetic God.

His eyes couldn't stop staring at the door, after all he has been through, now he can't decide if it is wise or not to enter, even though... there was a smirk plastered in his face.

It's not like he is afraid of entering, or even more ridiculously... afraid of his roommate, he is Hunter Clarington, and fear is a foreign concept, besides the worst thing that the brunette could do is to insult him and... That's just a self-defense mechanism, he doesn't take the hurtful words seriously (he should), half of them are French so he doesn't understand them... and they are kind of entertaining, he'll take that admission to the grave but... he enjoys fighting with the other, hell he has been so bored that in the middle of the day he thinks of ways to push the buttons of the ex-captain so that way he can forget that he is surrounded by a bunch of different people that just...

He lets escape a resigned sigh.

... Fighting with Smythe helps him to forget about all the dramas in his life, it's an outlet... a funny one.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? I'VE BEEN NOTHING BUT NICE TO YOU!"

Looking at the floor he lets escape a small chuckle, yeah... sharing a room with the biggest spoiled troublemaker in Ohio gives you the perk of not having one single boring day.

While sighing for the last time and opening the door... he didn't notice that the smirk turned into a soft smile.

"I don't care to which bag of meat you've been sucking his soul; Westerville doesn't need to hear your complaints of an unsuccessful one night stand." His tone didn't hide his disgust towards his roommate's activities. He closed the door, locking it more for habit than anything else, and started to remove his blazer while he turned around to face whatever calamity the green eyed brunette had done.

Although, he never ended to remove the blazer completely, because his body paralyzed at facing the rare sight of an exalted Sebastian Smythe. Dark turquoises saw the tall silhouette against the door of glass that connects the room with the balcony, his tie and blazer were gone and his shirt was half way to be completely unbuttoned. At this hour the gel on his hair disappeared and the defiant too long hazelnut locks were on the face of the seventeen boy. A soft blush was spread on boyish features, hiding the small freckles that were too small to be seen from distance... Normally vivid green eyes that were like hyperactive jades that turn extra hormonal teenagers to willing brainless bags of meat were now fixated in...

Mr. Puss? (He still can't forgive his cousin and mother for that name... What was wrong with Clarence?)

The graceful white cat had his total attention in the French boy. His cute little paws where on the left leg of Sebastian, his fluffy tail was swishing in content... and...

He doesn't get it, there is nothing new in his cat wanting to play with the lacrosse player, normally he finds them playing hide and seek, or competing in who sleeps on top of whom or... He even found them watching The Lion King one time.

So... there is nothing weird in...

"YOU!" Out of sudden, pretty jades looked at him with... untamed... fury?

"..." All that Clarington could do was blink. Was he too rude with his last comment?

... Nah.

His eyes came to life for the first time in the day, when they couldn't hide the amusement in seeing the taller teen (imperceptibly, barely, unnoticeable taller teen) trying to take a couple of steps in his direction, trying being the key word, the brunette stumbled once or twice because of the white cat that refused to leave his leg alone. For the time in which Sebastian faced him again, he was biting his tongue to repress his chuckle.

Apparently he didn't hide his amusement well, because immediately the freckled nose crinkled, and the soft blush spread to the bridge of the nose, hiding five...six...nine! freckles.

"Oh you think this is funny? You trained him for this?! Is this your twisted revenge for scratching your car?!" The normally smooth voice with faultless English with no trace of a foreign nationality was being very hard to comprehend, thanks to a very very metropolitan Parisian accent that was messing with his concentration.

Wait, did he say...

"YOU SCRATCHED MY CAR?!"

Black pupils dilated in surprise when Sebastian bit his lower lip and stared at the floor for a couple of seconds. "It is not an obvious scratch..." He mumbled before he stared at the angry captain one more time with renewed determination, there was no way that he'll lose this... There was blood in his bed! "Besides your car is silver... Get over it!" With a casual gesture he tucked his long locks behind his ear, resting importance to the car of his roommate.

Hunter couldn't believe the nerves of the spoiled, uptown, pompous... arg!

"Get over it you say? Sebastian what the...!... Wait, when I've borrowed you my car?" The dark blond closed the distance between them, invading the personal space of the other without breaking eye contact; challenging the other to evade the answer.

Neither of the teens was aware that Mr. Puss long ago stopped bothering the lacrosse player, and was watching them, licking contently his pawn on the floor.

Sebastian was a little (a lot) taken aback for the proximity of the piercing blue eyes, he had to refrain himself from establishing a new distance, he was not going to be intimidated by an army brat with Caesar's tendencies. "You borrowed it to me last week... You were in the pool (under the water, he omitted) and I asked you if I could use your car to go with Niff and Thad to the concert in Northwestern... and by the time I think you answered, you were already in the other side of the pool! Congrats you are really fast! I didn't know that robots could swim... But I'm sure you said Go!"

Every word distilled condescendence in its purest form.

But each word was repelled by the imperturbable facade in the handsome features of the dark blond, who was the epitome of control.

"Are you sure that I didn't say No?" His voice lowered several ranges when he took the missing step that made them share the same air. The air that the green eyed exhaled was the one that Hunter inhaled. The captain noticed the few seconds in which the other was out of breath and the closer green eyes turned into a more impossible shade of green. He felt satisfaction at knowing that only him, could awake that unstable green fire.

"It could be a possibility... but answer me oh omnipotent con (idiot) captain of mine... what are the chances of your cat turning into the next Freddy Krueger of pigeons?

My... cat... Mr. Puss?

With a surprising movement the brunette grabbed the tie in front of him and pulled the blue eyed swimmer by it, making him face the beds.

Piercing turquoises looked firstly at his bed; it looked just how he left it... impeccable, and then he looked Smythe's...

...

Oh.

So that's the reason of the screams...

... And the smell.

The owner of inquisitive green eyes examined the angular profile of his roommate, getting more and more frustrated by the lack of reaction. God he was sharing a room with an assassin cat and a freaking stone man! "So? Aren't you going to say something!?" What Sebastian had of charm he lacked it in patience.

Hunter blinked a couple of times and licked his lips, because out of sudden he felt them too dry... The scene it was... yeah it was pretty gross he can't lie about that, but he didn't came from a military academy for nothing; he has seen worse... try smelling human skin burned without vomiting. That's one of the few things that he prefers of Dalton... the smell, it might seem stupid, but he is grateful.

When he saw from the corner of his eye his roommate, and found impatient green daggers... he chooses to ignore them and went to the closet to place his blazer and tie... And yes, he still felt the green daggers at his back.

"What do you want me to say?... You are the one that left the door open." Hunter knows that he is being a bastard but is just... the lacrosse captain brings to light the worst side of him!

Sebastian couldn't believe how calm and collected the other was behaving, the son of a bitch was removing his tie with all the arrogance that just a person who owns the world could have... Everything about Clarington was just so irritating... Every cell of his body hates that man!

"I can't- I can't even..." Trapped in his own frustration, Smythe couldn't form a complete sentence.

The dark blond captain stopped for a moment his actions; it seems that he finally shut him up! If the birds outside could shut up he might hear the hell freezing.

"Mange la merde connard! Va te faire enculer!"

Ok... his French might be rusty but he recognizes an insult when he hears one.

"What did you just call me?" With a solid hit, Clarington closed the closet... Thad, Nick even the freaking headmaster would have backed away at seeing how tense and irritated was getting with each passing second the captain of the Warblers; he was having a hell of a week, he hates this school, he hates the people in there, and quite frankly he was looking for a quiet afternoon, but it seems impossible thanks to the fag in front of him.

Who is just an outlet to him.

Just that.

"Find a freaking dictionary and stuck it into your ass." But the brunette wasn't a regular person, and he wasn't, isn't and never will be afraid of the jerk standing a few steps ahead of him.

"So that's the vocabulary of a millionaire heir." Hunter tilted his head to one side, nodding in a disapproving way; faking disappointment. His eyes were mocking the boy; little by little he closed the distance one more time.

"This billionaire heir will go to the headmaster's office if you don't fix the shit of your cat!" This time the lacrosse player placed his hand in the contrary's chest, maintaining as much distance as possible, the warmth emanating from the swimmer was asphyxiating, he wouldn't breathe properly having him closer.

"Why would I? You are the brainless one who left the door open!" Hunter's voice was going to start screaming at any moment, he didn't like one bit how the brunette established a distance, as if he was some leprous, stupid hypocrite... it is ok to touch strangers at decadent bars, but at the mere indication of proximity with him... Sebastian is disgusted... he didn't let his mind wonder with the desperation he was feeling.

"Only because your virginal senses can't stand a freaking cigarette without complaining like an old woman!" What was wrong with him? Why are they screaming? Why all they do is fight?! Sebastian's pride was all that helped him to continue arguing. Why Hunter... why you are such a dick!?

"I wouldn't complain if it was just only one cigarette, but last time you almost smoked half of a pack... You know what? Go ahead and smoke all you want, that, plus your hate for real food will make you go to the emergency room BY THE END OF THE MONTH!" Screw this; he wasn't thinking anymore, all he wanted to do was to drain all his anger and frustrations... all at once, and then maybe... maybe he'll be in peace. But he knows that he should shut the fuck up, he was going to say something that he'll regret... He was losing control, he already slipped a clue that he knows about his suspects of Sebastian's eating habits... It wasn't his problem... he shouldn't have mentioned it... but he just... he couldn't...

He couldn't stop.

"Maybe I will! I prefer being in a coma that SHARING A ROOM WITH YOU!" The French young man felt cornered and... Anxious (fearful) he needed to get out, away from the other, Hunter knew too much, he always thought that because they were distant, the other wouldn't notice but... He needed to get out.

With more strength than necessary he pushed the other, who just stumbled half of a step, but it was enough for the brunette to pass next to him and go to the closet... He picked the first clothes that he could find to take a bath and sleep. He doesn't need the sermons of the perfect Hunter Clarington, with his stupid voice, grades and... Harvard or West Point... whatever... he needs distance.

Hunter was taken aback by the slight push, but the surprise was veiled by the anger he felt at seeing the other walk away from him, nobody... nobody turns his back to him; nobody ignores him, and less Smythe.

And damn if it didn't sting.

"You are such a child! I BET THAT WHEN YOU WERE A KID YOU WERE INSUPPORTABLE, NO WONDER YOUR MOTHER LIVES SO FAR FROM YOU! NOT EVEN SHE STANDS YOU!" The words weren't even over when he already felt like punching himself... He crossed the line... He... he really didn't mean them... He wasn't thinking! He...

His irregular respiration was caught inside his throat, with the bitterest bile that made him swallow with a grimace... This wasn't happening, he is always in control, he has never... he would never say something like that... not to Sebastian... He... Damn!

Concerned deep oceanic eyes looked at the elegant back of the quiet brunette... Hunter parted his dry lips to... what exactly? Make things worse? Because of the position, he couldn't see how the brunette hold even closer the clothes in his arms, guarding them protectively near his stomach... he hold them with such a force that his knuckles turned an alarming pale shade, he didn't hear the shaky gasp, or saw how his eyes were closed with force.

He only saw how the younger dropped his head, making the long locks fall and cover the little that he could see of the boyish features.

"Seb- Sebastian I- I di..." Hunter can't remember the last time he stuttered, a Clarington never stutters. By reflex he took a wary step closer to the brunette and before he could grasp the elbow of the other... Sebastian was already walking towards the bathroom...

When a hand was in the doorknob, Hunter heard the silky smooth voice resonate through the room. "... Mes affaires font mal au cul, that means mind your own fucking business."

The voice had an arctic tone that didn't show any emotion; it made Hunter clench his jaw tightly.

It wasn't until the bathroom door closed with a soft sound, that Hunter bearably breathed again and pressed the heels of his palms on his eyes.

This wasn't happening... he can't believe... he can't... he ruined it...

He ruined everything.

III

The harsh sound of newspaper crushing was all that you could hear in the room H97.

"Meow."

Mr Puss climbed to his favorite bed and curiously sniffed the newspaper, his sliver long whiskers barely touching the tanned arms of his master that didn't pay him any attention.

The owner of stormed turquoises was solely focused in grabbing the rest of the pigeon, crushing with much more force than necessary the newspaper, his body was tense, his jaw was clenched, marking the veins on his neck, his skin was covered in sweat and he wasn't even tired or hot, when he covered completely the rests he grabbed them and made a ball, his movements hold so much tension, that the veins in his arms and hands were visible, he felt his blood boil.

He put everything in a big black plastic bag.

Not maneuvering with newspaper anymore, Hunter heard clearly the steady sound of the water running in the bathroom at mere meters from him.

It has been 45 minutes.

He looked at the ceiling and exhaled... the tension stayed with him, who knows for how long.

He has never felt like this before.

So angry with himself... so confused.

He has been raised in a certain way, that since he was a kid, he always faced the consequences of his acts, that made him become responsible, mature and... Different, turning him into a loner... because why would he want the company from others if he doesn't need it?

Being accustomed to not caring about the feelings from others, turns him into an ignorant of the sensation that keeps burning his throat, no matter the times he swallows, the sensation doesn't want to go... it's... the sensation is regret.

Regret for getting carried away, for not being able to control his anger... for... Sebastian has a natural gift of always getting him out of his comfort zone that distracts and exasperates him at the same time. They have been playing this game since day one; they both have ghosts in their minds, demons that are chasing them, but still... With Sebastian, he found the perfect outlet, the brunette never backs down, isn't afraid of him, doesn't give a damn about his father's connections, and quite honestly... he likes that, he likes being reminded that there are challenges out there, people that are your equal and push you to your limits.

"Meow?"

With heaviness he sat on his roommate's bed and supported his elbows on his knees, hiding his face with his hands.

He still can't believe the words he said.

"Meow."

"He might not forgive us this time."

While brushing the soft white hair of his cat... he remembered one of the many days that he realized how truly different from the rest Sebastian Smythe really is.

Flashback.

It was finally over.

A tall figure was walking by the corridors of the prestigious Dalton Academy, with his hands inside his pockets and a long black coat hanging loosely in his arm, his steps were steady, and his head was slightly bowed, with his eyes fixated on the floor, he was deep in thought, still remembering the last events.

By his side passed a couple of workers carrying the elegant chairs that were used in the event of today.

Dalton's welcome brunch.

His new school was beyond protocol... And he comes from a military academy.

Today was the day where directives and professors use all the opulence of the infrastructure to offer a brunch, where they meet the closets family members of their students, the event is a facade to concrete the donations to the school, in exchange, the directives use their connections and invite representatives from the top universities in the country so they can start the hunt for the best students. It's a prelude to the event in the spring, where the representatives realize a series of interviews and finally decide to which students they will offer their scholarships.

He didn't have to deal with such a crap in Colorado.

But his somber attitude wasn't because of the protocol, he can deal with it, in fact he was glad to hear that no other but one of the best universities in the country was interested in him, yeah... Harvard, and also he was content at seeing again his family, he has never been really fond or close to them but... it was nice.

What it wasn't nice was the skepticism and dry comments of his father, Robert Clarington, don't get him wrong, he is proud of being his son, the man is all that he wishes to be, he is the perfect portrait inside and outside the house, and with the representatives of the universities he did all the talking but... he saw the frown in the man's face when Jeff Sterling approached him to say hi, he knows that Sterling's hair is... different from his friends back in Colorado but... what was the big deal? And let's not talk about the annoyance that the man irradiated when Sterling and Duval were holding hands... Since when, his father was so closed minded?

But what was really locked in his head was the look he sent to his roommate... Sebastian Smythe, honestly he has bearably spoken to him, since the brunette arrived just a couple of days ago, apparently he is from France and was attending some important family events that required his presence... or something like that he heard. And yes, he heard that the guy was also gay, he would lie if he said that for an instant it didn't cross his mind the term awkward but... he just thought that it is something that he'll have to get use to... guys being gay and all that... So far Smythe seemed distant and occupied in other things, they haven't talked or had a real conversation, but he knows that next Tuesday things are going to change... in the first practice of the Warblers...

... Talking about awkward.

The point is that there is absolutely no reason for the glare and disgust that his father's eyes showed the same second that he saw the far silhouette of the French boy. While the brunette and who he assumed was Mr. Smythe (he noticed the absence of a Mrs. Smythe) talked with the representatives from Yale and Brown and also the professor of Physics, his father bombarded him with questions about his roommate, questions that he didn't know how to answer because... He doesn't know the guy! All he heard were rumors and comments that hold no relevance to him.

He was so confused of his father reactions, but what puzzled him the most, was the moment the headmaster came closer to them to say hi and talk with his father about some donations and... His father took the older man somewhere else to discuss "necessary arrangements." From the corner of his eye he saw how his father sent again that unnerving glance towards his roommate and he understood perfectly of what arrangements his father was talking... And that isn't even the top of the iceberg, it results that his roommate wasn't so oblivious anymore and decided that exact moment to look around (probably his nape was burning by all the glares) and his curious green eyes found his father's glare while talking to the headmaster, even from the distance he saw how the brunette tilted his head, and in that moment the vivid green jades looked at him and then back again at his father and the headmaster...

At that exact moment Hunter wished for an earthquake that swallowed him.

He remembers how his mother swiftly passed her arm under his and stayed against his side, her pleasant perfume comforting his nerves, her warm hazel eyes stared curiously at his roommate and she smiled with a knowing look that normally annoys him, but this wasn't the case, he was near a suicide attempt and he wasn't in position to ask. Without letting him time to think, she was dragging him in a subtly way to where his roommate was.

He was pleasantly surprised when he met for the first time the charming side of Sebastian, the easygoing smile accentuated his youth and boyish features, he didn't need to see his mother to know that she was wearing her "Aww" look, she is extremely maternal, and he knows that at any moment she would start asking Sebastian what he was eating or if he misses his home or some other nonsense. Mr. Smythe maybe wasn't as easygoing as Sebastian, but was extremely polite, serious yes, but respectful, he introduced him to the representatives of the universities and showed real interest about the military education in America, while by his side he could hear his mom ask his roommate numerous questions about the best places in Europe.

Probably that was why the whole situation bothers him much more than it normally should... because the Smythes were so nice and treated them with respect... When his father just curtly interrupted them, briskly greeted and made them leave immediately, saying that they were going to miss a reservation.

...

The reservation wasn't for until another two hours.

At the dinner in the elegant restaurant he found his answer. His father investigated the life of his roommate and of course that the fact that he was actively gay went to collision, apparently being gay was a dishonest way of living and those people were scum and weren't good enough to share a room with a Clarington... He still doesn't know how he managed to eat the damn food.

He always saw his father as a real life hero, always helping the others, always doing the right thing, always taking the correct decision, no matter the sacrifices, he always brings honor to the family but...

... This new side of his father was... bizarre (to say at least.)

Without mentioning the disrespectful fact that he investigated Sebastian's life as if he was some kind of criminal. He even showed him a file and everything! He pretended that he read it, and just nodded when his father mentioned something in particular... but he couldn't read... You earn the trust of somebody to know those kinds of things... and he hasn't earned anything.

Recognizing the corridor as the one of his room, Hunter slowed his pace and his aura turned even more somber.

He is still taking the events of the day.

His mind can't stop playing over and over, like a broken CD, the words of his father... He told the headmaster that he needed a new room...But the words of his mother were the ones that leaved him in this thoughtful mess. Before his parents parted again... his mother told him that it was HIS and ONLY HIS choice to decide with whom he shared a room, and most important... to whom he would become friends. That it was his choice to decide if being gay was a reason to outcast a friendship.

The answer is crystal clear, no, of course not! But... a hypothetical friendship was worth losing the respect of his father?

And most important, would someone as full of pride as Sebastian Smythe forgive his father's shows of disrespect?

With a tired sigh he looked at the door of his room.

H97.

Well, he has until tomorrow to decide if it will be his room.

He entered the room with more wariness that he attempted to show, the place was in total silence, he turned on the lights and observed that nobody was in, Smythe's luggage was in a far corner, still untouched. He exhaled the tension he was feeling; he wasn't ready to face an angry (with total reason) brunette. He went to the closet to place his coat, while he was removing his scarf he heard how some papers and pencils fell to the floor, startled he turned and saw the white curtain move with the wind.

Smythe left the door of the balcony open, as always.

Grumbling some words under his breath, he went to close the door but...

"Prrr."

He heard his cat... purring?

For the first time, he recognized a blurry shape through the curtain and the glass. With an eyebrow raised he slightly pulled the door... In the edge of the balcony, with his back against the wall, and a long leg hanging in the air, was sitting no other than his roommate, in an unsteady position that he'll have to get used to. Dark turquoises drank the sight of the perfect portrait in front of him, from where he was standing he could hear the music emanating from the expensive silver headphones, the distracting green eyes were hidden under slightly freckled eyelids, the striking features were the perfect representation of peacefulness as if the boy was sleeping... If he thinks about it... It seems that he is actually sleeping; the brunette had his lips parted slightly, moving just to inhale and exhale air, it was even endearing when the tips of the long hazelnut locks touched the lips and caused a singular crinkle in the nose, as if it tickled...

This can't be the same boy that Trent Nixon keeps complaining about.

"Prrr."

He was so lost with the intimate scene that he almost forgets about his white Persian cat, his blue eyes widened in surprise at seeing his normally surly cat being reduced to a white ball of fur that purrs contently in the chest of his roommate. He didn't notice that his lips were parted... he couldn't believe it, Mr. Puss hates strangers (he hates everybody that wasn't him or his mother). And now the cat was rubbing his face in the cotton fabric completely pleased.

"Take a picture, it last longer."

The new captain of the Warblers tensed in surprise when he heard the raspy voice that didn't hide his boredom, he diverted his attention from his cat and focused it on the brunette, who slowly opened his eyes, blinking slowly until the world didn't blur.

"Here, I think that you were looking at it." Pale fingers stroked lightly the white furs before they handed him the sleepy cat. "Wow it is heavy." The boy exaggerated the force he needed to lift the cat, faking being relieved when the feline was taken from him.

By inertia, Hunter took his cat and held him near his chest.

"Haha sorry little fella, you aren't fat." Dark turquoises gazed again at the brunette, glued to the lips, the laugh and the voice.

When he saw how the brunette turned down the volume of his Ipod, he knew that the situation needed his participation in the conversation, he needed to say something, to force his voice to come out he had to turn away his eyes from the green eyed, so he focused his attention in the sleeping cat in his arms.

"I'm sure he appreciates the clarification."

"What's his name?"

Ok... so he wasn't mad? The brunette was too dense to catch the rudeness of his father? Or he was being civil and decided to don't give it importance?... That doesn't sound like the Sebastian Smythe that he heard about.

Not knowing what to expect was making him uncomfortable and anxious.

"His name is... Mr. Puss (damn, mom!)." This time he looked directly at the teen, threatening him to mock him.

And he found... yeah, there were definitely a grin and an amused sparkle in those lips and eyes.

"My cousin named him and my mom encouraged him." He grumbled under his breath with resignation.

"... I'm sure she did... she has a lovely sense of humor." The cheerful laugh was pleasantly heard again, the grin turned into a smile, hiding the perfect teeth, at the end, the lacrosse player had to bite his lower lip playfully, he was trying (but failing) at keeping his chuckles under control.

Not being used to feel anxiety or even... insecurity, Hunter decided to do what it was correct, and that was apologize, it doesn't matter if the French boy was too dumb to notice the disrespect, he won't be able to sleep until he resolves the situation. So with determination in his eyes he places gently the cat on the floor and is ready to face his roommate to...

He finds the boy lighting up a cigarette.

His eyebrows frown while he watches the pink lips that seconds ago were laughing melodiously, and now were holding a disgusting nicotine cancer weapon, his annoyance was palpable while he stares at the smoke disappearing in the air.

"I recommend you to keep your boy scouts sermons to yourself, I don't need your judgments golden boy."

The bored tone was back.

This is the Sebastian Smythe that he heard about.

"I can't care less about your... habits, always as you smoke outside the room, last night I knew I smelled cigarettes." He tried to hold back his severe tone, the one that doesn't accept mistakes or failures but... it was hard. Even if he remembers precisely that it was that tone the one that put him in the middle-of-nowhere-Ohio.

"..." Not even glancing at him once, the brunette closed his eyes and turned up the volume of his Ipod again.

He was ignoring him?... Ig- ignoring...him!?

The little brat...

He got closer to the teen and with no hesitation, he moved flippantly the headphone, he felt some satisfaction at seeing the chestnut eyebrow furrow lightly, but it was erased at seeing that the stubborn brat has still his eyes closed.

"Listen to me, I don't know if you were already informed but I'm the new captain of the Warblers, and if you pretend to still being part of them, I recommend you to stop smoking immediately." There was no holding back, everybody, everybody does what he says with that tone.

He couldn't hide his surprise when for an answer the pink lips exhaled nicotine.

"Why would I...?" Still with his eyes closed the brunette asked with velvety voice, as if he was too lazy and speaking to him was too boring.

"Because in my team won't be places for damaged voices." With each word his voice turned even darker and lower.

Apparently Smythe was the typical uptown spoiled I-always-get-what-I-want brat.

Just what he needs for his anger management.

"What I meant was..." Sebastian trailed off before he opened his green eyes again and stared at the void with a lost look. "...Why would I still being a Warbler?" The last words were barely a whisper; the French boy bent the leg that wasn't hanging and placed his chin on his knee, adding an attitude childlike to the portrait.

Hunter blinked in confusion, and his expression turned uncertain...

...Why would he...?

Then, he remembered the words that Trent said to him before Duval shut him up... About what Smythe did last year, and realization downed on him.

"Because I'll take you to Nationals." He narrowed his eyes full of determination and in an act out of character; he placed gently a hand in the slim shoulder in front of him, wanting to have the attention from the other.

He knows that they just met, and he knows nothing about the other, but there was something in that lost gaze, that turned the green jades pale and... It didn't feel natural, it didn't feel right. He wants to see again the Sebastian that soothed his mother in less than three minutes, the one with the easygoing smile; it could be useful to have him on his side; in case that there was some resistance between the Warblers that wanted a council instead of a captain.

So when those jades blinked, like remembering their existence, and stared at him, he knew he said the right thing.

Slowly the green eyes ranked at him with indecisive interest, like if they just were looking at him for the first time... And after a small puff on the cigarette, the pink lips turned into a cocky smile.

"Nationals uh?... Cockiness or optimism?"

It was impossible to not return the smile, so after a dark chuckle, looking at the floor to alleviate the bizarre nervousness he felt at being studied, he grinned at his roommate.

"Reality." He took a couple of steps back, until he comfortably leaned against the wall on the other side of the small balcony.

"... So it's option C."

"There was an option C?" He raised an eyebrow faking being intrigued, but the amusement was real.

"Tons and tons of inexhaustible, never-ending amounts of..."

"Truthfulness?"

"Arrogance."

"Look who is talking."

"I know, who better than me to recognize it?"

"Takes one to know one." He deadpanned.

This time the long hazelnut locks danced when their owner laughed in delight. From the corner of his eye, Hunter saw how the brunette moved and now both legs were hanging in the air.

There is a reason behind his obsession with the door of glass locked.

He hates (is scared of) heights.

Some nervousness must have been obvious because the younger teen replied with a laid-back tone.

"Relax; if I fall, the grass will welcome me with open arms." To clarify his point the brunette extended his arms.

At this point Hunter almost pulls the boy by the shirt and drags him back to the room, away from voids.

"And will break your neck."

"Aaand will break my neck." You could hear the grin.

There was something... special in the back of his mind, a selfish part of him wishing to be one of the few that could see this side of the distant boy.

Startled by his thoughts, he coughed uncomfortable a couple of times.

"Smythe I wanted to talk about..." He really needed to apologize.

"You want to go somewhere else?"

"I'm not going to a gay bar." He said with frustration.

"It's six o clock... what they teach you in those military schools?"

By somewhere else, the French boy meant some ruins in the farthest grounds of Crawford Academy, apparently it was a catholic school many decades ago, and they let the old small chapel fall apart with time. Hunter had to park his jeep when the grass was too high to see the rocks, so they walked for several minutes until they reached the top of the hill where the remains of the chapel were still fighting time.

From time to time, believe it or not, Sebastian Smythe, the guy that almost blinded a guy, was hoping from rock to rock, playing with Mr. Puss (that's even more unbelievable) like an eight year old.

He was walking serenely a couple of steps back, keeping an eye close in those two. Forcing his body to restrain himself, every time that the brunette stumbled and seemed to fall, for someone that holds so security and practically distils sex appeal with each step… damn that boy could be clumsy.

"You need to stop worrying so much! Loosen up! Or I'll have to take you to a gay bar!" The laugh was contagious and the grin magnetic. Sebastian was hoping from rock to rock in a small pond, with Mr. Puss following his steps.

Smythe turned his cat into Lassie.

"How old are you?... Eight?" With his hands inside his pockets, Hunter bordered the miniature pond and waited (like a freaking babysitter) for his two companions. Even if his voice sounded annoyed, all his features were relaxed in a way that made him look like his real age… a teenage boy… nothing more and nothing less.

For when Sebastian was going to finally jump to the grass, out of nowhere a tiny frog made an appearance, causing a small yelp from the French that tripped and was going to place his face on the ground, but he was fast enough to grab the boy by the arm and pulled him to his direction.

The bubbly laugh was immediate; the smartass comeback was muffled because the freckled face was hidden in his chest, tickling every part where the shaky breath made contact with his jacket. "I'm old enough to know that you need to get laid!"

Not caring about the voice that sounded too much like his father's telling him to behave like a real man; he secured his hold on the slim body trapped in his arms, and picked him slightly, he had to take a few steps back to gain the impulse to make the oscillations towards the pond.

"Wha- … put me down! Sto- … stop it!"

Hunter's grin turned into a genuine laugh when the brunette froze in his arms and started to try to get a hold of his jacket, it reminded him of when he tries to bath Mr. Puss.

"Or what? Are you still going to be a royal pain in the ass?" Feeling satisfaction at seeing the contracted pupils, he used extra force and exaggerated the sway, and then something magical happened.

Sebastian Smythe yelped.

Yelped.

"Let me go!" The blushed boy demanded.

Feeling lightheaded out of sudden and out of breath by the abrupt knot trapped in his chest, he playfully pushed the boy to the grass.

"Ouch! That wasn't very Boy Scout from you!"

"Who said I was a Boy Scout? Did the grass welcome you with open arms?"

"Mange la merde."

That was the first time of many he'll hear those lovely three words.

It was... nice, in fact, it was... perfect. Since he arrived he felt foreign, and he just knew that he would never stop feeling that way, he is not like the rest of the students at Dalton, he has other priorities, other ambitions, and that thought made him uneasy, but... for the first time... he is at peace.

The view was marvelous; the academy was far away, the beginnings of the woods surrounded them. Being so close to nature reminded him of home, in a way that not even seeing his parents that same day reminded him.

They stayed until Mr. Puss didn't know what to do with so many fireflies.

He was enjoying the calmness of the place under a pine. "I'll have to bath him tomorrow." He commented wryly at seeing the green strands of grass in the normally impeccable white fur.

"Good luck with that." His blue eyes glinted in the dark and looked at the brunette that was a couple of steps ahead of him, he was totally laying in the grass, all his attention focused on the sky.

The feline wasn't the only one with grass everywhere.

"You'll take a bath the second you step into our room." Yes, he decided already, he wasn't going to be intimidated by his father, he is Hunter Clarington, and he knows that he could have the perfect roommate, one that doesn't have so many facets, so many mysteries, someone that backs down at the mere raise of voice or warning, and someone that follows his instructions... but where is the challenge in that?

"Yes dad!"

That word shadowed his calmness. "Smythe I... I want to apolo- "

"Don't." For the first time he heard the icy tone of Sebastian Smythe.

The sound of the crickets was all that you could hear for a couple of seconds.

Hunter sighed with resignation, he knows that the brunette was giving him an exit, to pretend that nothing happened, but he can't, he wasn't raised that way.

"Sebastian, what my father did is wrong and..."

"As you just clarify it, your father did it, not you, be responsible of your actions and only yours."

His mother's words.

The lacrosse player didn't move, the only sign that it was him talking was the small amount of fog that accompanied the silky voice and breath. The night was turning cold. While he was rubbing his hands, Hunter noticed that his roommate was wearing a dark cardigan of a fabric too delicate and expensive to be resistant to the weather. But the green eyed never showed any sign of discomfort, not even a tremble. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the coldness.

"Still, what he did is wrong a-"

"Why?"

Hunter tilted his head in confusion when the green eyed interrupted him and supported his upper weight on his elbows, the boy's back was still towards him, but this time his head was turned to one side, letting see the profile through the hazelnut locks.

"What you mean by why?... He kept looking at you as if…" The new captain of the Warblers was incredulous of the question.

And also, which each passing second in the company of the other, his mind kept asking questions … why he cares so much about apologizing to this brat? From where on earth comes this stupid wish to be in good terms with him?... why?

His thoughts were interrupted by the calm voice from the other.

"Exactly, he just looked, he did nothing."

"But still…" Hunter couldn't believe what he was hearing. Any normal person with a functional brain should be angry or upset if someone disrespects you.

But this guy…

… Is something else.

When he thinks that he would be angry, the brunette is calm, when he thinks that the brat would agree with him, the other has a total different idea in that wicked head.

Is completely unpredictable.

Confused turquoises see how the brunette sighs and let escape the white breath from his lips, and with lazy gracefulness the boy sits in Indian style and faces him.

It was incredible how the green jades could be seen in the dark… they were like reignited fireflies.

"Let me tell you something golden boy, in the real world, I mean the real world, not your suburban American dream world, guess what? People have different ideas and ways of thinking, from where you come from, they teach you to think the same, like a broken CD, to keep the little soldiers under control… Here is the opposite, and probably you'll find ideas that are radically different from yours, is called free will, so there is nothing you can do, but live with it. That is real life 101."

The condescendence and sarcasm was something that had never been directed towards him (not on his face).

He really doesn't intimidate one bit the French brat does he?

"So you are ok with people talking shit of you? What are you, an attention whore?"

"It's called not giving a damn of what people think of me, you should try it sometime."

"I don't care about what people think of me." The dark blond almost growled.

"Oh! Really? And here I was assuming that you were the perfect student that makes every father proud."

"You don't know anything about me." With each word the calmness was disappearing and being replaced by anger.

Anger not because of the words, but by the calm brunette in front of him that exasperated him in levels that he didn't know that existed.

Sebastian chuckled before answering. "To be fair, I don't think that there is too much to know."

The amused sparkle in those green eyes were the final drop that ended his patience, he rose abruptly and saw the brunette from above with narrowed eyes.

"Find your own way back to Dalton."

"Yes, it's obvious that what others think of you doesn't affect you."

Vibrant green jades looked at him innocently; the owner brushed his long locks behind his ear before he crossed his arms.

Huh, the first sign that he was getting cold.

With an inner battle inside of him, he pulled off his scarf and tossed it in the other's face, who just chuckled completely content.

"Thank you fake Boy Scout."

Were those… dimples?

Seeing the brunette with his scarf, how instead of using it loosely, letting it fall on the back of his neck like he uses to, the entrancing foreign chooses to tie it around his neck, wrapping it many times to get it fit nicely, the scarf is so big that looks like a giant snood that covered the freckled face 'til the tip of the pink nose, Sebastian maneuvered a little bit more until Hunter could hear a soft "aha!" and a contagious grin become visible… making him feel uncomfortable, so he grumbled some words (insults) under his breath and sat again under the tree.

Anger forgotten.

Stupid French dumbass.

From the corner of his eye he saw how the boy changed his position, he saw how he hugged his long legs and placed his chin on his knees, it reminded him of the position at the balcony.

"Tell me… your father heard about what I did before or after I came to this place?" Whispered lightly the brunette, like afraid to perturb the atmosphere.

The question took him by surprise. "I thought you didn't care about what people think of you." Hunter grimaced, already regretting his lack of tact.

Sebastian, diverted his gaze and looked absently at a sparkling lightning bug, by the darkness of the place, Hunter didn't notice how the foreign boy tightened the hold on his dark jeans, turning his knuckles even paler. Just noticed a small smile and an imperceptibly nod.

"… Is just curiosity."

The captain of the Warblers felt uncomfortable, and to ease the anxiety he licked his dry parted lips. "He… he didn't care about what you did…"

"Then why…?" For the first time in his life, he wished to punch his father, when he saw the chestnut eyebrows frown in confusion… Sebastian wasn't looking at him; his eyes were lost, deep in thought. Surely thinking in a possible reason that justifies a grown military and completely strange man to hate him.

There is nothing this boy could have possible done to justify that.

He sighed in frustration. "It's because you are gay." He looked at the ruins near them; he couldn't see those green eyes sad because of him.

"Seriously?"

Hunter blinked in surprise, that voice didn't sound hurt, not one bit.

"…So… he is ok with my record file?"

Actually…

"Pretty much, yeah."

To his horror the brunette grinned mischievously.

"I like him."

"You are crazy."

"I prefer the term spontaneous."

Flashback's End.

IV

Every time that he remembers that day, he feels better. In those days that he is close to don't give a damn and is close to grab his car keys and drive far away, he remembers and… remembers how something inside of him changed, he realized how in the goal of pursuing his father's dreams and expectations… he was losing himself, that day he really met a French brat that changed the perspective of the way his life was becoming.

But today at remembering that day… he feels worse…

He exhaled for like the hundredth time and laid his back on the mattress, his arms flexing, and his hands under his head. He stared at the shadows forming in the wooden ceiling at the compass of the wind that moved the tree next to their room.

…Because he realized that Sebastian took him to that place to cheer him up.

Honestly, at first, he thought that probably the brunette was high, or that day the moon and planets with the stars and the whole cosmos were alienated and all that astrology bullshit, and that he found Sebastian Smythe in a good mood towards him, an event that only occurs once in a lifetime (seriously, just one.)

His father just treated him as a piece of shit, and the guy instead of at least ask for an explanation… He found a way to cheer him up.

He is not saying that Sebastian is some sort of saint, waking him up is a suicidal activity, he drinks his coffee with a worryingly amount of Courvoisier, always runs out the hot water from the shower, leaves his clothes on the floor, and then he reclaims the shreds of white fur on them, always leaves a trail of water when he is out of the shower, sleeps in most of the classes because he is unnervingly smart, but at the same time he has the concentration of a fly, constantly changes the lacrosse practices so it clashes with Warblers rehearsals, and then whines when he doesn't like a song, takes advantage of his looks and charms every person that is on his way, can listen electronic music for hours at an annoying volume, always leaves the window open and then he trembles in his sleep and blames him when he is sick, is a high worldwide danger when he gets bored, for Christ's sake the boy can't drive in the right side of the road, insults him in foreign languages, sneaks out thinking that nobody will notice, those nights he can't blink an eye because of the waiting, has no respect towards any type of authority, loses an expensive phone every week, breaks every defense with those hyperactive green jades…

… Makes him feel tense and uneasy, makes him question every important decision, searching for his approval, getting what he wants meant no trouble or challenge until he met him, makes him question the way he acts, makes him nervous, makes him afraid, makes him think, makes him clumsy in the inside, makes him ache…

His antics, his behavior…

The murmurs in French for another five more minutes in the morning, the chews on puffy pink lips that lasts for hours after literally eating out an addiction for Nutella macaroons and Oreos Fudge, the amounts of cream and vanilla in a tea, the yelps at six o' clock in the morning when the water turns cold, the expensive cologne that persists in never leaving the clothes, the drops of water clinging to the lithe-slim-smooth body, the long nights explaining integrals, derivatives and even the French Revolution to classmates; a contagious smile, the bouncing-laughs-moves at the compass of Bob Sinclair and Daft Punk, red cheeks, blurry jades and a stuffy nose on a vulnerable state; freckles everywhere, dimples, dimples… dimples; the adoration for animals, the sniffs at Mufasa's death, give him a kicked puppy and he'll surely look like one, the stumbles and giggles at four o' clock in the morning…

… The wildness that burned in him, hot and bright.

Smythe was all those things.

What the…

Why on earth is he thinking so much about this?

He was so deep in thought that when the door of the bathroom closed, he got up from the bed so fast that he stumbled and almost fell on top of the other bed.

A behavior not very Clarington-like.

His tentative (hopeful) gaze never leaved the tall boy who not even once looked at him; in fact, he had a towel around his shoulder and was distractedly drying his hair with it.

Hunter swallowed hard when the brunette passed next to him; from the corner of his eye he saw how the lacrosse player put the uniform in the laundry basket and sat on his desk, turning on the laptop.

The cold treatment… yeah he can… he can live with that.

…

No he can't.

The dark blond inhaled and with one swift move, removed the white, literally bloody sheets from Smythe's bed.

Huh.

"The blood went through the sheets and… now your mattress is (hideous)… Tomorrow I'll take it to a laundry shop (and leave it there because I'll buy a new one)." No matter how raspy or deep his voice sounded, it couldn't hide his hesitation.

"…" All the answer he got was the sound of the keyboard.

"I'll- I… I'm going to throw this." Dark turquoises stared at the elegant back of his roommate waiting for a reaction, an insult, a pout, the twitch of an eyebrow… anything.

"…"

Ok… he'll give him his space.

He grabbed the sheets and put them in the black plastic bag.

You know what? Screw it; he can't deal with a silent treatment. Silence treatments are for kids, not for guys at mere months of attending universities.

He is a mature person, always has been, and he won't be intimidated by the consequences.

He'll fix this… situation.

He took a breath full of courage and…

"Sebastian what I…"

"Stop watching me with your wrinkle look."

And just like that, Sebastian Smythe did what he does best…

… He disconcerts him, making no sense at all.

"My… my what?" Hunter tilted his head to one side and looked suspiciously at the teen; he tried to gain his composure when the green eyed brunette placed his elbow on the top rail of the chair and artic bored jades stared at him.

Sharp cheeks and chiseled chin and those long, fluttering eyelashes, it was Sebastian, but there wasn't any emotion.

"Your wrinkle look, the one you wear when something doesn't go according to your plan, it was baptized after the wrinkle between your eyebrows."

"…"

"It's different from your control freak on crack look, because of the tic in your eyebrow and the pulsing living vein at your neck."

"I…"

Wha- … what was he supposed to say?!

"Please close your mouth when you are talking, now go and leave that bag as far from me as your deplorable abilities can, between that repulsive Axe bottle that you wear and the smell of blood, I've been feeling like I'm sleeping in Lima Heights."

Without any further explanation the brunette returned his total attention to the laptop.

"…"

In part that was good, because that way he couldn't see how Hunter looked like a fish out of water, parting his lips several times, trying to force some words out of his mouth… but the stupor never left.

Son of a bitch, the spoiled brat did it again.

V

He can't remember if the potatoes were smashed before or after they were served on his plate, he doesn't give a damn, and it doesn't stop his attempts to free some frustrations on them.

He is beyond exhausted, angry, frustrated and desperate.

Before eating dinner in the cafeteria, he took a cold shower in the gym but it didn't calm his thoughts, he still felt anxious, he couldn't loosen up his jaw or muscles, and the sensation of rush in his veins was starting to be unnerving.

"…It's different from your control freak on crack look"

The smooth voice resonated inside his head.

The captain of the Warblers grunted and clicked his tongue in annoyance.

He didn't notice how his fingertips went to his forehead and soothed any evidence of a wrinkle. When he did notice what he was doing it was too late, so he grabbed the first thing that his hand could grab and resumed the massacre of the potatoes again.

If peacefulness were money, Hunter would be a charity case.

Is just…

Sebastian did it again! He keeps doing that thing!

When he realizes and admits that he did something wrong, that he committed a mistake, and wants to apologize…

The other acts as if nothing happened!

Doesn't let him apologize, doesn't let him discuss, and doesn't let him… in.

He knows that the whole act is exactly that… an act. Sebastian just reacts that way to protect himself, the insults are just the top of the iceberg of his self-defense mechanism, what truly protects him from further danger is to pretend that it doesn't affect him.

Hunter isn't like that, when something troubles him, he confronts it and resolves the problem, with intimidation, yes… but he resolves it.

While Hunter is direct and faces the problem, Sebastian pretends that it doesn't affect him and hides any emotion.

They are so different, but that doesn't mean that Clarington doesn't understand what Sebastian is doing.

He is Sebastian's roommate! He knows (cares about) him, he learned to read those eyes. He has seen the French brunette in that state before. Months ago Sebastian received some documents by mistake; it was his parents' divorce papers, he remembers clearly how the brunette stood by more than four hours on the balcony talking by the phone… he heard the resignation, the pleading, the sadness in the whispered voice… It was three in the morning when he carried the lethargic boy in his arms and tucked him in the bed like a child. Next morning… it was as if nothing happened.

Nobody at Dalton noticed.

Nobody at Dalton knew.

Except him.

When he tried to approach the subject, Sebastian laughed dryly, shook his head and gave him a little smile, saying. "You are an idiot, why would I care if my parents divorced? They have been separated since I was twelve."

He noticed the heaviness in each monotone word, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes, he noticed the pale face, the loss of weight, the stumbles, but most important he noticed the pale shade of green in those eyes.

Each time that Trent comments about the events of last year, each time that Trent says that nobody would be like Anderson, each time that Trent blames Sebastian for the refusal of the ex-Warbler to join… Sebastian just laughs and says some smart and playful comeback. (He swears, one more comment from the chubby towards Sebastian about that hobbit, and that sensitive will regret the time he joined the Warblers.)

But he knows better.

Each time that Sebastian hears that his father is on a long trip by the lips of some random bodyguard; each time that Sebastian invites his mother to come and visit him in America…

… Yeah, Sebastian's life isn't as perfect as the world thinks it is.

But what frustrates him more than anything is the feeling of being ignored and underestimated.

The way Sebastian thinks that he can get away with his act with him.

Him.

The one who knows him, the one that could help him and protect him from the world if the stupid bastard asked him to.

Because yes…

… He cares about the brat.

He is his captain isn't he?

And it's his duty and responsibility to look after his subordinates.

…

He just wants to stop the isolation and self-destruction that is happening in front of him.

…

Since when he is so caring?

"What the poor potatoes have ever done to you?" Three seconds later, a parasite by the name of Thaddeus sat unceremoniously next to him.

Great.

"I'm not in the mood Hardwood." He talked through his teeth.

"That's pretty obvious."

"…" Not even once he looked at the teen next to him, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel the scrutiny.

"I mean it's literally obvious, you have that…" Offhandedly the Hispanic pointed his forehead.

"I dare you to end that sentence… I dare you."

"Ok, ok geeez, I just wanted to make you company." The black haired Warbler returned his attention to his own food, playing with the fork a few times… letting the sound of the constant chit chat from the other students fill the silence.

Faking indifference.

"…" Hunter doesn't buy the act for one second.

And less when he hears the exasperated sigh.

"I was lying, I reaaally need Bastian's notes…"

"…" Uh-huh.

"By the way…"

He knew it.

He narrowed his eyes when his classmate slipped closer to him, the slim shoulder making contact with his arm.

Thad didn't flinch.

"Do you know the reason of why he was saying those weird things in the afternoon?"

"Smythe's business besides Warblers reunions are none of my concern."

"Yeah right." Thad snorted exaggeratedly.

"So as your business."

"And here I was thinking that our conversations could lead to a beautiful friendship."

"…" He wasn't going to waste energy in answering that question.

"Why are you brooding so much? Did Bas do something to you? He tends to lash his anger on others… you comprehend him more than anyone in that matter."

"…" Can't argue that.

"…So? Guess what? I was thinking about the song…"

"…." Actually, Thad was right… beyond right.

He has always used Sebastian as an outlet… and nothing more.

The fact that he knows the other, it's because he is observant and the brunette is his roommate; but not because they are friends or anything similar.

He can't be mad at Sebastian for always shutting any sign of closeness from his part.

"Give me that!" Thad's eyes almost popped out when he saw how the dark blond leader started a potato exorcism with a knife.

When the knife was removed from his hand, was the first time since he sat on the table, that he noticed the other Warblers from the other side, they were sitting so close from each other that were practically squished, leaving an empty space around him, the space even include the other tables around… like they were afraid of him or something.

He grunted in annoyance.

Since that video in the Lima Bean went to YouTube everybody acts strange and weird around him.

It has his perks though. For instance, the line of the cafeteria gets considerably shorter now.

"How am I supposed to eat?" He huffed frustrated.

"Eat a sandwich, so I was saying about the song…" Thad shrugged dismissively and kept talking about the damn song.

"…" The Warbler was really getting on his last nerve.

The stoic captain decided to focus all his thoughts and concentration in making a sandwich, leaving no room for French brats, or incredibly annoying classmates.

…

"And have you heard the band Hot Chelle Rae? They have some songs that I think that…"

It was plain torture.

Like invisible needles trying to make you bleed by your ears.

He needed to get rid of him, or he won't be responsible of what he'll do.

No wonder the Hispanic was the leader of the debate club… the guy can talk… and talk none-stop.

He glanced around and saw the only ones in the table that were completely oblivious of his mood.

Nick and Jeff, better known as Niff. (You won't be able to mention one of them without the other, so they become one entity.)

"Thad, why don't you discuss your choices with Nick or Jeff? I'm sure that Jeff will be more than happy to hear you."

"Huh?" Warm dark chocolate eyes blinked, the owner taken aback by the interruption.

"I don't think so… Jeff seems worried."

"…?" Now it was the turn of the ashy blond to look confused, he glanced discreetly at the pair a few sits away and saw Duval drinking an orange juice in total calmness and then he saw Jeffrey…

The platinum blond had his phone near his ear for a couple of seconds and then he would start to exasperate and would start pressing the screen of the device with more strength than necessary, he is sure that if it wasn't for the blond bangs on the youthful face, he would see the frown.

The scene was so unlike Jeff.

Nothing ever upsets Jeff.

By his side, Thad started rambling again, and he was going to resume the task of cutting cheese with a spoon when he heard the serene voice of Nick…

"Calm down Jeff, I'm sure that Sebastian is just taking a long bath or something… he'll call you as soon as he sees the dozens of missed calls from your part."

If Hunter had dog ears, they would have perked at that exact moment. Instead, for a couple of seconds the hand that was going to grab the cheese froze.

The moment he entered the cafeteria he knew that Smythe wasn't at the place, it didn't surprise him, even without their… argument, the brunette tends to eat outside or grabs something later an eats it in their dorm.

"Nick, in what world Sebastian Smythe returns a call?" Asked rhetorically as a matter- of- fact the blond Warbler.

As an answer, Nick sighed in resignation. "… I'm sure he'll…"

"You don't understand you-… today his phone was going to explode by the tons of missed calls from his mother." Their low voices turned into hushed whispers that Hunter could hear with some effort. With the last words from Jeff, and the palpable exasperation, Hunter furrowed his eyebrows in confusion while he kept his act of preparing a sandwich.

Mrs. Smythe was calling his son, that's a good sign right? It means that she's thinking about his son, that she is caring about him… right?

"…" By the somber face and lack of words from Nick, it wasn't a good new.

"You know how he is in those days, when that… woman calls, he gets…" Jeff was biting his lips angrily.

"Yeah… I know what you mean." Hazel eyes diverted their gaze and their owner got lost in his thoughts, probably remembering something.

"I'm worried Nick."

Hearing the anxiety in his partner, Nick shook quickly his head, awakening from his thoughts, and smiled weakly to his boyfriend. "Sebastian is a big boy Jeff."

"Seb is our friend, if we don't worry about him then who will?"

"I know, that's why I know how he likes to keep his privacy about some matters, there is nothing wrong with that, and you shouldn't take it personal. He is not some emo creep that is going to cut his veins! (*)" To make an emphasis, Duval placed his hand in the shoulder next to him.

"I… I know that! But you also don't know that Seb…"

By now, Hunter pretended that he needed to reach some mustard near the pair to hear… Jeff was starting to mumble.

And he didn't like one bit the assumptions that his head was doing.

"We can't talk this here… Let's go to his…"

At that exact moment Jeff's smartphone started to ring.

And like possessed by the Flash, in time record Sterling picked the phone.

"Seb? Are you ok?... Are you sure?... Oh! Nothing! Is just that I didn't see you here in the cafeteria…in the whole day… I know you didn't eat somewhere else, I saw you going to your dorms… I'm not spying you! I'm your friend!... Well, sorry for acting like such an evil person and actually getting worried of my friend! How despicable of me!?"

At this point Jeff's head could be replaced by a tomato and nobody would have noticed the difference, he was drawing attention.

"What's going on with Jeff?" By his side, Thad asked him utterly confused.

Hunter shrugged one shoulder and bit his sandwich, trying to hide his grimace; he isn't a big fan of mustard.

"… Come on Jeff, let's go outside." Nick slipped his hand towards the back of his boyfriend and encouraged him to exit the cafeteria.

"Huh, that was weird, don't you think captain?... Clarington?" Thad blinked, and even moved his head several times searching for the tall dark blond that was just at his right side five seconds ago.

VI

Nick guided his boyfriend to the nearest lonely corridor he could find, it wasn't until he made sure that nobody was coming and no sounds were heard, that he removed his hand and let his boyfriend walk near a sumptuous window. In his case, he lay back on a column and in a nervous behavior; he hid his hands inside his pockets.

He knows how agitated Jeff can get when the situation is too frustrating, and God knows the infinite amounts of frustrations that dealing with a moody Sebastian Smythe can get.

From outsiders, the situation could look laughable dramatic, but he knows better, something is off; he will let Jeff to continue arguing with Sebastian. Today the lacrosse team had an important practice and he didn't show, his green eyed friend is the captain, and he never misses a practice, even one time Richard carried the captain back to the infirmary because the obstinate idiot was having a dangerous fever that made him lose conscience.

He firmly believes that if someone can get the tall brunette to open up and tell what the hell was going on is Jeff Sterling. After all, his boyfriend was the only person he knows that can call Sebastian Smythe "Seb" and live to tell the story.

"Why you get so upset with me, just because I asked you if you ate?...You know why I do Seb…"

Nick's pupils dilated and as if he was being driven by a spring, he pulled himself from the wall and went near the platinum blond.

"Jeff calm down, don't say that- …" Careful with what you say Jeff…

"Shh!..." His boyfriend dismissed him. "No it wasn't with you Seb…I know your mother called."

"Argghh!" Not caring about the gel, Nick pulled his hair and started walking in circles.

There goes the subtle approach.

"You want me to go there?... I know you aren't fine! Don't lie to me! If you are fine then why you haven't eaten in the whole day?!... I will calm down when I get to your room and see you eat… Because both of us know what happened last time…"

This situation wasn't leading anywhere…

Concerned hazel eyes opened in realization. Nick had to make gestures with his hands to catch the attention of the troubled blond.

"…Oreos with milk." He gesticulated exaggeratedly.

Jeff grinned immediately and kissed his cheek, mouthing the word "Genius."

"We'll bring Oreos?… Fudge of course!… Ok we'll be there… Oh? Nick is here with me… Hunter? He's still in the cafeteria... Ok we'll be there in five!" Jeff fist bumped in the air.

While Nick dropped his gaze and sighed relieved.

"The Oreos always work." When he saw his boyfriend again, his smile faltered, there was uncertainty plastered in the face that he loves.

"Nick…he sounded different this time…"

"What do you mean?"

"His voice… it sounded…hollow, what if that bitch really hurt him this time?"

"Jeff…" Nick had to bite his tongue to cut the rest of the words that he wanted to say.

That bitch is his mother, and there is nothing that we can do about it.

"I'm worried Nick, I know that it's not my obligation but- this time… something was off, something else happened, last time she called him, she was drunk and...He relapsed."

"The only thing that we can do is to be there for him, and if it isn't enough… we'll have to tell someone."

"Last time we even suggested to call his father… he had an asthma attack, and if we tell to one of the professors they'll tell the headmaster and the headmaster will tell his father."

Nick had to divert his gaze from the brown eyes of his partner; Jeff was asking him pleading him a solution but…

The situation was out of proportion, and he doesn't feel capable to handle it, not on his own, even with Jeff's help… Both of them can't deal with it.

They adore Sebastian, and he knows how much the captain of lacrosse cares for them but…

Sebastian Smythe is a hurricane that they can't control.

Not alone.

As a real hurricane that rotates against the direction of clockwise, their friend never follows what society does, it's unexpected, and uncontrollable, impossible to hold or even keep up, but mostly impossibly to resist; drags with him anything and anyone that tries to stand against him. Also as a real hurricane, they both are a convergence, while in a hurricane converge warm and cool air, Sebastian is a battle between letting his true nature be known, or keeping his cold demeanor protect him from the world.

In the past they counted with Wes and David, of course they didn't know all the details but, they had authority, and Sebastian respects them… But now they are too busy and out of reach.

Although…

…He knows the ideal person with the temper and force of a volcano that can help them.

"What about?... What about Hunter?"

"…Hu- Hunter?!" Jeff's face turned pale.

Nick furrowed his eyebrows, ok, it was just a suggestion, Jeff didn't need to react that badly!

"What?! You have a better idea?!"

"…" Jeff's lips were separated, but no words were coming out of them, in fact, his body was paralyzed, as if he was seeing a ghost right behind him.

"Were you calling me?" A husky deep voice resonated enchantingly in the not so lonely corridor of Dalton.

VII

"Ok will be there in five!" With the light touch on the screen the energetic voice went dead, and the silence returned to the dark room.

With a shaky breath the only occupant in the dorm ran a hand through hazelnut locks.

It was a mistake.

With only eating three cookies I'll be inducing to my body 160 calories…I can't eat breakfast tomorrow…

He shouldn't have accepted Jeff's pity.

But…

Green jades glanced at the laptop in front of him.

Caleb Thibault Navarre: offline.

If Jeff pushes me to eat lunch, I need to skip Warblers practice to add two kilometers…

… He needed someone right now.

With the last thought in mind, his eyes narrowed until were just mere incandescent green lines.

He doesn't need anyone.

Never had, ever will.

Brusquely he closed the top cover of the laptop and brought his knees close to his chest, immediately burying his face in them…

The banana smoothie from yesterday didn't have soy milk… it tasted like whole milk… I didn't burn the 50 extra calories…

His tall frame and position ridiculed the ordinary chair.

He is just-… he is tired… tired of… of keep waiting, expecting, remembering…

He wants to forget… to be cured… to leave everything in the past.

He is unaware of the tremors that are beginning to become stronger with each passing second.

I didn't burn it… I- I'm… I…What if it starts noticing?...The calories are still in my body…Maman can't know…

His thoughts lost any track of coherence as panic trapped his mind and body as well; the first signs of hyperventilation were starting to become visible.

He doesn't need anyone.

He is fine. He is not, God knows he is not.

He has never been better. Liar.

The pattern in the tremors increased while a strangled single sob escaped by dry parted lips.

Those words… those words are killing him.

Those words triggered the farthest part of his mind, a hidden sleeping part that he fights every day to keep at bay.

Those words awakened some specific (hurtful) memories that instantly put him in a deplorable state.

With more force than necessary he bit his lips angrily.

Enough.

A single drop of blood traveled from his bottom lip, passed his chin and died in the floor.

If the arrogant selfish piece of shit thinks that he holds some power over him, that he has the capacity to hurt him, to cause a reaction on him…

If Hunter Clarington even thinks that he is dying because of his words… then the army brat is completely and utterly wrong.

He is Sebastian Smythe, and he doesn't give a damn fuck of what people says and thinks of him.

Especially someone that was blessed with the perfect family portrait, the loving caring mother, and the proud father… If only someone, anyone! Looked at him for at least a second just like that… The captain of the Warblers was blessed in every single way; he was blessed with perfect features, perfect body, perfect posture, perfect grades… Perfect everything… A selective institution as Dalton offered him a full scholarship, not because he needed the school, because the academy needed the golden boy… Now, not only West Point but Harvard was after the envied dark blond.

He wasn't going to be affected by a jerk that doesn't know the meaning of being… cursed.

Slowly and grimacing at the pain that shoot his legs, he carefully raised and detachedly threw the towel on his shoulders to a random spot on the floor.

He just needs to sleep and forget about the world.

Speaking of sleep…

Pretty jades stared questioningly at what was left of his bed…

A plain mattress with a revolting-big-impossible-to-ignore stain of blood.

…

Angrily he sniffed and with force he passed the back of his hand under his flushed nose.

Where was he supposed to sleep?!

…

…

He is not stupid; he knows that there is an impeccable bed in perfect conditions at just three steps from him.

But he prefers sleeping with a million of bed bugs (a total public nuisance) than sleeping in THAT bed.

With obstinacy he gets closer to his bed and sits Indian style maneuvering his long legs trying awkwardly to avoid the stains, crossing his arms stubbornly.

…

…

"Merde, ça sent si mauvais!" His grunt came out muffled because he covered his nose.

Frustrated with the situation, with brusque moves he goes to the next bed and pulls the covers, gets inside and completely hides underneath them.

He blinked several times trying to adjust to the new darkness; his hair and shoulders were still very damp, he is still very lazy when he dries himself, so he just puts on some clothes right after he showers; that's why he is soaking the pillow and a small part of the sheets that were in contact with him.

This day has been a complete nightmare.

With an exhausted sigh he closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but when he also inhaled, the scent of the aftershave and Axe that only belongs to the cause of all his problems took control of his senses in a way that left him dizzy for several seconds.

With a pitiful groan he rolled onto his stomach and buried his face into Hunter's pillow, letting escape a tiny whine, hoping to bury his face so hard in a way that he can't breathe anymore so he can pleasantly die, away from his roommate for good.

God, give me a break of that army prick!

But while his mind was set on ignoring his roommate, burying his face wasn't the best idea, because the remains of the manly scent only become stronger.

With a huff he rolls again… and again… and again, until he ends as a French burrito.

Well, at least the coldness that always companions him is starting to fade.

Surrounded by the blankets and the darkness of the room, Sebastian noticed that his breathing was irregular and couldn't breathe by his nose anymore, strands of hair were beginning to stick to the light sheen of water on his face and shoulders, the sensation was beyond uncomfortable. Being alone let his mind wonder again in events that he tries so hard to ignore…

"Valentina! Your son is from top to bottom absolutely gorgeous! Well, I shouldn't be surprised, please excuse my astonishment, there is no surprise, he is /your/ son after all."

"You are excused, he was born with the luck to have my genes; he is my /best creation/ after all."

"Sébastien what are you doing? What's on your face?"

"Papa gave me this macaroons… do you want maman?"

"You can't eat those Bastien! I /forbid/ you, never eat this type of venom again! I can't stand the /thought/ of having a chubby kid! Next time Oliver gives you food for /pigs/ I want you to reject them.'"

"Sébastien tomorrow you are going to the photo shoot of Moncler Enfant, why are you eating pasta? Put down the fork in this instant!"

"You are beautiful my child, you are my /best creation/, you can't disgrace my image… let's put some make up in those hideous freckles shall we? The world shouldn't see your cracks."

"Maman my stomach hu- hurts… I-I'm scared… It feels like being stabbed."

"It's just a hunger pang petit ami, it will pass… I promise you that by the end of the week you'll be pure and clean… you'll be worthy of my attention… you'll be /perfect/."

… But the lack of a distraction isn't helping.

So he focuses in the coldness that is disappearing with each passing second, he knows that it won't disappear completely, it never does, but any sensation of comfort is always welcomed, instead of wondering in the conversations that he had in the course of the day, the cries in the shower so no one hears him, the waiting of everyone to fall asleep so he can fall apart…he concentrates in the buzz at his temples, in the weakness that causes the dizzy spells, in the heaviness of his pulse…

Little by little his eyes start to blink slower and slower until his tiredness takes over his drained body and finally starts to fall asleep, he feels secure and so warm, a sensation of safety splashes pleasantly over his skin, thanks to the reassuring scent that makes him feel lightheaded and relaxed and… with a final yawn he rolls again and…

Sebastian Smythe doesn't squeak, the noise that escaped through his lips sounded like a squeak, but it wasn't a squeak.

The cause of the noise was because he ended draped over the bed, both legs tangled in the blanket and his head hanging only inches from the floor.

"Meow." From under the bed, the gorgeous white Persian cat appeared and started to lick smoothly the freckles in the nose of the brunette, who couldn't stop wrinkling his nose cutely at being under the attack of the small and very insistent pink tongue.

"Très bien! très bien! I forgive you!"

Exhaling a puff of air, trying to not fall, the lacrosse player incorporated and sat in the small bed with his back against the headboard, two seconds later the white cat jumped gracefully to the bed and curled next to the green eyed teen, who smiled softly and started to caress the soft ball of fur next to his tight, the low purrs were heard by the room."… It seems that only you like me…"

Vibrant jades turned pale when golden flecks lose their intensity and glanced to a far corner…

With a soft fragile whisper Sebastian asked one last question… "Why I'm so unlovable?"

VIII

One simple letter followed by even simpler two numbers, engraved in an ordinary doorplate.

H97.

At Dalton there were hundreds of doors, but only the one with that specific doorplate was the one that hold a meaning to him.

H97.

It means the location of his room, the area, floor and corridor.

It means that he was assigned in a room for only two students, no bunks, separated beds and one bathroom.

It means that his room was one of the few with a small balcony and a view towards the multiple fields of the academy.

It means that he shares the room with Sebastian Smythe.

H97.

For an undefined time, troubled dark turquoises stared at that one letter and two numbers.

He couldn't…

…He couldn't enter.

For the first time he was scared of himself, of what he could do…

He never felt anger like this before… it was an anger that reached… that reached his bones.

"He grew up believing that losing weight was something sought after and to be proud of… In an environment where a lot of emphasis is placed on being thin and beautiful." Duval's carefully chosen words echoed in his mind.

Nick, always calm and composed Nick.

How could he be so calm?!

He had time to adjust to the idea.

That wasn't his case.

Months living in a room that couldn't be bigger than 8x10, and still he had to wait 'til today to hear from others the extent of the damage that suffers his roommate.

Months, moths to finally realize that what he suspected… he knew it all this time along, is just… He never cared.

All that time lost.

Anorexia nervosa, bulimia, compulsive overeating, it never mattered to him, for him, they were all the same… the world calls them illness, he thinks of them as a call to get attention and pity, cries for help, weaknesses, disgraces… Those people… "haters of food"… all of them, he saw them as vein people, always thinking in what's outside, in what is in the surface…

In his family, from the top of his familiar tree, every generation has a strong link with the military world. His grandparent, his father, himself… He spent his last years in a military academy, there is an impossible to ignore possibility that he is going to spend the years to come in a military university, meaning that the rest of his life would be tied up to the service of his country, even his kids will.

All those whispered rumors, of steroids, of extenuating exercises to reach the perfect weight and physical condition, of the strict diet, all those rumors that trespass the doors of the military world.

They are true.

But fortunately his family has always been out of them.

Being a Clarington is a heavy weight on his shoulders, at least in the world from where he comes from.

And there are no spaces for mistakes, because there are always eyes looking at you, expecting the minimum of the mistakes to eat you alive.

But none of them is as bad seen as the development of an eating disorder, as consequence of a post-traumatic stress disorder, commonly after going to war.

Is one of the biggest signs of weakness; it means that you couldn't handle your purpose, for what you've been prepared for years; it means that the academy lost time and valuable resources on you.

… Sebastian was right.

From where he comes from… they fill your head with shit.

Oh God, how fucked up is he?

He knew.

All this time.

He always noticed the skip of breakfast, the insipid salad as lunch, the simple tea at night. The small frown at reading the food labels.

It wasn't an everyday thing.

Most of days it was normal, there was the lack of appetite but…It was normal.

Sebastian was the captain of the lacrosse team for God's sake! He was perfectly healthy!

…

He paid attention but… he never cared.

To him, anorexics are vain, lazy and neurotic, always starving for attention… Why would someone stop eating? How could someone be so stupid to starve themselves? So many people are out there really starving to death, so many kids around the world, in Africa in Haiti… Why would someone be so ungrateful?

And when you first take a look at Sebastian Smythe… so self-obsessed, so full of himself…

You can't really blame him, for assuming that his suppositions were right.

…

He can't believe how fucking brainwashed he really is.

He really is becoming like his father.

Harsh and judgmental.

He has never been so scared of himself.

Of course that Duval didn't truly say much, he omitted big parts of the story.

But he is not stupid; he could put together the missing pieces.

The key was Sebastian's mother.

Meaning that whatever that has been troubling his roommate; it has been present his whole life.

Which explains how sporadic are the changes of… behavior.

Can you imagine?... Your own mother.

The person that is supposed to love you no matter what.

He has no idea of what is going on, of the nature of the bond between the former Mrs. Smythe and his son, of how is she responsible of her son problems.

But by Sterling's comments… he can tell that whatever she's done… it couldn't be good.

Before he crosses that door, he has to complete as much as he can the puzzle, he needs to know what is really going on, to know how to face… whatever he has to.

Nobody knows much about Sebastian, unlike the others he didn't attend Dalton from the beginning, so his past is based in assumptions, because it wasn't in the lacrosse player nature to speak about personal matters. He has always been in his own world, whatever piece of information that a person might have of him, is based in spending a big amount of time with him, and not because the brunette tells you. A friend of Sebastian might know of what he likes and dislikes, his favorite type of music, the marathon of a random series that he has been dying to watch, his favorite director, the tickets he got of his favorite band, how boring was some random class, how he hates the laboratories of biology, his allergies to lavender. If you are Sterling, Duval or Richard, you might know if he is seeing someone, you might know in which European city he spent his summer, but nothing else.

Now he is regretting not keeping the file of Sebastian that his dad gave him.

His gaze was lost, deep in concentration, trying to remember as much as possible the file. He has eidetic memory, but still, he didn't really pay attention to the file. He didn't want to intrude.

All he remembers are very specific sentences…

Full name: Sébastien Zadkiel Smythe Leroux.

Day of Birth (m/d/y):11/09/1997.

Nationality: Dual (German-French).

Place of Birth: Asklepios Klinik Barmbek, Hamburg, Germany.

Academic Formation:

Elementary School (grades 1 to 5): Schule Schloss Salem. Address: Schloss Salem Salem, Germany.

Middle School (grades 6 to 7): Schule Schloss Salem. Address: Schloss Salem Salem, Germany.

Middle School-High School (grades 7 to 10): Notre-Dame International High School. Address: Verneuil-sur-Seine, West of Paris, France.

High School (grades 11 to 12, in course): Dalton Academy. Address: Westerville, Ohio, United States.

That's all he can remember…

Since Sebastian came from Paris, and visits France frequently, everybody assumed that he was French, well he is, he has the nationality after all, but he was born in Hamburg so… he is more German than French. His father is from Germany, while his mother is from France. From what he can remember, and based in the schools, he assumes that the brunette lived most of his childhood in Germany…

"You are an idiot, why would I care if my parents divorced? They have been separated since I was twelve."

His parents separated when he was twelve and at that moment is when he moves to Paris with his mother.

And out of sudden he moves to the other side of the world?... Why?

He knows how much Sebastian loves his father but… they don't see much.

Sebastian came to the States running from something.

And Mr. Smythe's overprotection with his son…

Probably it was Oliver Smythe the one that went to France to get his son back.

… This isn't helping.

Wait…there was something, in the 2010 - 2011 file… PROMIS France Counseling Clinic.

Nick said over and over that Sebastian was recovered, and he believes him, Sebastian was fine, but Jeff said that sometimes there are triggers that can cause a relapse.

Triggers.

That was exactly in what he refuses to think about.

How many triggers Hunter?

"Where is the scale Smythe?" "… Under your bed." "Why you put it there? How many times do I have to tell you to not touch my stuffs?! If I left it in the bathroom leave it there!"

"Are you just going to eat that? You do know that because of your height you need to eat more right?"

"Coffee and a cigarette… Breakfast of Champions… You know that is just an expression…"

"The training of your lacrosse team is a joke; back in Colorado we did your so called routine as preheat."

"You should be careful of that condescending tone Smythe; you are so weak that with a simple touch I can easily make you regret the day you were born."

"You little piece of… arg! Is too complicated for you to close the door!? The lack of food in your body finally affected your brain?!..."

SHUT UP!

He closed his eyes with a pained expression.

"It's official… Clarington… you are an asshole."

All this time he knew, he damn knew, but he did nothing… he kept saying those awful things, he kept exploiting that weakness of his roommate, to hurt him, to make him react, to show him that he was above him, above anyone... To show to himself that he hold no feelings for the brunette…That he meant nothing…He kept shutting down the voice inside of him that asked him to stop, to shut up. In his defense, Sebastian didn't back down, not even once… he always was prepared with a hurtful come-back.

Because they know each other as if they've known from past lives.

What if he relapsed?

What if one of those days… that… that he said those things… what if one of those days that he didn't shut his fucking mouth… he caused a relapse in the other?

What if because of him… Sebastian stopped eating? Decided to skip breakfast?...

He can't calm himself down with the guilt burning inside of him. His throat is constricted and no matter how many times he swallows… the soreness won't disappear, and the air won't come in. Causing him an unrecognizable ache inside his chest, an ache that is trapped, pushing and squeezing the way out... but no matter the deep breaths… it won't go away.

And he just knows that there is nothing that can ease it.

What if he hurt Sebastian as his mother does?

What if Sebastian ran away from France in search of the peace and safety here in Dalton… just to meet him and then start a new hell…

What if Sebastian runs away from Dalton too?

How could Sebastian ever want to be with someone as closed minded as him?

He is like one of those broken CD's… repeating over and over what his father taught him.

He needs to fix it.

Sebastian needs to know that he is not like Valentina Leroux, he is not like Robert Clarington…

I mean… he was, but it was because he didn't know the consequences…

He didn't feel that hate before.

He wasn't so angry with himself before.

Sebastian needs to know…

He needs Sebastian to know…

If he knew the damage that his words could cause… He would have bit his tongue until it bleed before he said them…

If any student of the area H woke up, he could have seen no other but Hunter Clarington standing in front of his own room. If the student dared to take a couple of steps closer, he could have seen the tense shoulders, slightly curved down, the head bowed, the rebel golden locks in different directions, creating diverted patterns of shadows in the hidden face, he could have seen the tense vein on his neck, he could have seen the pressure in the strong jaw, the rigidity in his posture… but… three steps more and you could see that the posture had cracks, the trembles in the hands that were holding a platter, the lost look in dark aquamarine eyes… Those signs screamed fear and pain.

He can't lose Sebastian…

Not because of the twisted way the adults think…

With a forceful swallow he takes a deep breath and knocks the door with heaviness.

It wasn't intended to cause so much noise, but every inch of his body felt too heavy to carry.

…

Nothing.

Why are you knocking the door of your own room?

He shut down the voice inside his head and kept knocking.

…

Still nothing.

"Are you sure that you want to bring him dinner? We know him for a longer time, I'm sure that we can…"

"I'm his captain and his roommate, it's my responsibility."

"Hunter, this isn't a discussion about a song for Regionals we are talking about our…"

"I said that I'm doing it."

"Ye- yeah but- "

"End of discussion… And if I found out that you told someone else about this, especially Nixon or that hobbit that you keep drooling…"

"We wouldn't, we'll ne- …"

"You'll be out of the Warblers for good."

While he kept knocking he discovered that he wasn't so desperate because it was his responsibility, that excuse he used it enough times that it lose its value, or because of guilt, he'd done worse things and felt nothing, but… because he cared.

And for the first time it didn't bother him.

The knocks become stronger and stronger.

Damn, someone will notice soon.

Cursing some words under his breath, he opened the door.

If Sebastian reclaimed at him because he came back, at least he'll have a reaction from the foreign boy.

As soon as he entered, his eyes narrowed trying to adjust to the new darkness. The lights were off, even the faint rays of the moon that normally trespass the white curtain were nowhere to be seen.

Remembering perfectly the necessary steps to approach his desk, without any incident he quietly placed the platter on his desk and turned on the small lamp that he uses to study. With the new light he eyed the room… Everything was just as he left it, the hideous mattress, the closet open, the lacrosse equipment in the corner, Sebastian sleeping in his bed, the door of the bathroom open…

… Wait.

Dark aquamarines glinted in the dark and studied the little hill under his comforter that rises imperceptibly before it goes down and then rises up again at a calmly rate.

… It can't be.

Without removing his eyes from his bed, he turns on the lights of the bathroom and…

Yes, there is a mop of hair peeking from the comforter.

… Sebastian Smythe is sleeping on his bed.

Huh.

That only statement deflated all the tension on his shoulders.

Well, where else was the poor guy supposed to sleep?

Hunter grimaced at remembering what his cat just did hours ago. It was incredible, he had completely forgotten about that. It wasn't his fault, what he just found out was much bigger and more important than a stained mattress.

With a frustrated sigh he brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck and controlled the urge to pull them.

He entered the room, prepared to face the natural disaster that Sebastian Smythe can be, with a mix of emotions that he can barely recognize, and now…

… The brunette is asleep.

He doesn't know if it is a blessing or a curse.

He needs to drain all the fe-… things that have been boiling all night long.

He needs to talk to Sebastian, about what? (everything), how will he approach? (probably badly), was it worth it? (definitely).

But most important, he needs to make Sebastian eat.

The foreign brunette can insult him in all the damn languages that the obnoxious snob knows, but he will end this behavior tonight.

He will deny it until the end of times, but he spent almost thirty seconds thinking in a way to give him food without awakening him.

Apparently, he is even more tired that he thought.

With careful but steady steps he approaches the bed, his piercing eyes completely focused on the mop of hair on his pillow; with an uncharacteristically unsteady hand he subtly shakes what he assumes is the shoulder of his sleeping roommate.

"Smythe… Smythe wake up, I brought dinner." Every time that Hunter speaks, no matter the person, his voice always holds a level of security, confidence and superiority that leaves no room for other options but what he dictates. Right now, it was as if other person was talking, the raspy voice was a soft fragile whisper.

It was the tone you use to talk with a little bird, not wanting it to fly away from your grasp.

"…"

At the lack of response, dark aquamarines divert their gaze and eye the nervous hand on top of the comforter. Hunter narrows his eyes and swallows saliva, fists his hand several times until its veins become prominent and with a firmer grasp, shakes again the shoulder of the sleeping teen.

"Smyt-… Sebastian… wake up… please."

"…Mm- le…v..."

The dark blond rapidly stepped away when the sleeping brunette rolled in his sleep. Hunter thought that he was going to wake up, but the green-eyed was just accommodating, still under the spell of Morpheus.

The captain of the Warblers sighed in complete tiredness.

He was exhausted.

Grimacing at what he was about to do; Hunter parted his lips, ready to awake his roommate the way that Colorado taught him…

"Ss- …"

But the generic ringtone of a cellphone interrupted his suicidal actions.

By inertia he placed a hand in the pocket where he uses to keep his phone, but the sound didn't come from it.

He looked from the corner of his eye the mop of brunette hair, before he walked towards the source of the sound.

It came from the desk of his roommate…

Hunter's breath didn't reach his lungs for several seconds in which he stared dazed at the ID that kept appearing over and over in the bright screen.

Maman.

If today, Sebastian would've remembered to close the door of glass, or if his cat didn't choose to hunt an unfortunate bird just to hide it on his roommate's bed, nothing of this would've happened… he wouldn't know how much damage he can cause, and he would have ignored the phone call in a heartbeat, because whatever happened between his roommate and his mother it wasn't his problem.

And while still it wasn't his damn problem…

With just a quick glance towards the sleeping boy on his bed, he didn't thought, and picked up the phone.

"Bastien, mon petit ange, pourquoi vous n'avez pas appelé? Je suis ta mère, et peu importe comment votre père essaie de nous séparer, tu m'appartiens."

This was a bad idea, this feels wrong, like when his dad gave him that file, this is not right… He is not used to intrude the life of others.

Because you never cared about anyone before.

He coughed uncomfortably. His eyebrows pressed together in a frown in pure concentration trying to understand the rapid words, if he thought that the Parisian accent of Sebastian was hard to understand, then it was nothing compared to the accent of the woman in the other line.

"Bastien, êtes-vous d'accord? N'oubliez pas que vous ne pouvez pas être malade, j'ai besoin que vous soyez dans des conditions parfaites pour la semaine prochaine."

At hearing the question about Sebastian's wellbeing he immediately regretted picking up the phone, maybe all this was a misunderstanding and…

But later he heard the next words, he heard the tone, the lack of emotion, and then he understood everything. His mind played all the times that his own mother called him, his mother is a strong distinguished woman, and he is not saying it just because is his mother, but still, every time that she calls him, she is not one of those mothers that cries and ask their children to come back, she would never be the type of mother that makes their children feel guilty or embarrassed… But you can feel and sense her concern and love towards him by a simple phone call.

But with this woman… he feels nothing; it was as if she was talking with a barely known co-worker. The voice sends him the image of a beautiful woman (she is Sebastian's mother after all) the type of woman that you see in the announcements and commercials of beauty products, with thin pink lips…

He hears the exhale of breath in the other line and he guesses correctly that the Madame is smoking, and that just completes the look of a woman in his middle forties with beautiful hair that cascades in soft waves, with her head in other things except her son that is in the other side of the ocean.

Inadvertently, he tightened the hold he had in the smartphone.

"Bonsoir… madame Smythe, je suis Hunter Clarington, le… umm… roommate?... colocataire?... de Sebastian."

He heard the light sound of glass against wood, and wondered if he was having difficulties understanding the woman because she was under the influence of alcohol.

"Excusez-moi? Qui est-ce?... Who is this? Roommate? Wait..."

Definitely drunk.

More sounds could be heard, but he had enough of this woman and all he wanted was to end the phone call, before he speaks his mind and causes more troubles that he already had.

He inhales before trying to hide as much as possible his frustration.

"… Hunter Clarington, Sebast- … your son's roommate, he is asleep at the moment but I'll tell him that you called."

He wasn't going to do such thing, but she didn't need to know.

"Asleep? Wake him up; what I need to tell him is more important." It sickened him the tone that she uses to refer to her own son.

And it was probably that sickening tone and the thought of a younger Sebastian hearing it, that made his blood boil. So without caring anymore about being disrespectful or not, he lowered his voice.

"As I said, Sebastian is asleep; he had a long day and is no condition to… "

"Monsieur Clarington I recommend you to watch your tone when you are speaking with people that are at another level of yours, communicate me in this instant with my child before…"

"What could be so important that it cannot wait until the morning?" He was completely immersed in the conversation that he stopped caring about the volume of his voice.

"This is not of your concern… but Sebastian has some responsibilities with me and he needs to come back to France for the next week, so could you just reach…"

"Madame next week we have exams."

"Comment insolente sont les enfants américains… Listen petit garçon bruyant, my son has other priorities, with ME; there are some Editorials that need…"

Incredulous of what he was hearing, Hunter couldn't control the wry laugh that escaped through his lips.

"Excuse me, I must have heard wrong because… I just have the perception that you are saying that some photo-shoots are more important than the academic life of your son."

He had it with being polite; he stopped hiding his dislike towards this woman.

He raised an eyebrow when he heard the solid sound of an impact against wood.

"… Oliver?"

Frustrated turquoises looked at the ceiling.

Great she wasn't just drunk… she was delusional.

"No, Hunter Clarington."

"Who?... My son, I want to talk with my son, he is mine and neither Oliver or my dad or anyone will take him away from me, and that includes you, américain boy… What could you know about what is best for him? You… you are just some ignorant little man that knows nothing of life."

If anyone else was saying those things to him, he would be saying some very unkind words in a second, but for Sebastian, and only him, he was controlling his temper, he preferred to swallow the well-deserved insults, just to have the chance to make that woman understand.

"You have any idea of what a photo-shoot could do to your son right now? You have any idea of what he has been through?"

"I will not tolerate your tone, pass me my kid, I want my son right here, at home, he'll be purified, he'll be..."

Purified?

PURIFIED?!

Sick bastard bitch.

At that moment his rational side left for good.

Who on earth does she think she is?! That is her son she is talking about!

He wasn't aware that he was pacing until at that moment he stopped abruptly.

"You want your son, your flesh and blood, under the pressure of fulfilling some ridiculous standards that hollow people like you put in society? You want your son under an environment that can literally kill him? … I'm sorry but the only insolente in this conversation is you and your French drunken neurons."

"How dare you…?!"

"I dare because I care! And over my dead body I'll let anyone harm your son, and Madame that includes you… Do you want me to repeat it in French so you can comprehend?"

"Are you threatening me? Merveilleux!... I'm his mother, I'm Valentine Leroux what could you possibly do…"

"And I'm Hunter Clarington and I can do whatever I fucking want and listen to me clear, I don't know a damn thing about European laws but I'm damn sure that what you are doing is…"

Out of nowhere cold hands snatched the phone away before he could even protest.

He turned on his heels, heated words at the tip of his tongue at whoever dared to interrupt him. But all words died at seeing the retreating back of his roommate.

… Shit.

As the weight and tension of his shoulders increased alarmingly, he understood what he just did.

He insulted and threated Sebastian's drunken mother.

Fan- fucking- tastic.

By impulse, he took a couple of steps closer to the brunette, with calming words in his dry lips; he merely touched the contrary's arm, when Sebastian struggled against the grasp and used his elbow to push him away.

But he didn't have time to process the pain on his ribs, because the deadly green glint in those Jades paralyzed him.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Hissed angrily the brunette before he completely ignored him and stepped further from him.

Hunter blinked in confusion.

… What?

"Mom… mom! Listen to me… its Sebastian… yes it is me…calm down, please… don't listen to him… He is crazy he doesn't make sense… Of course that… yes…yes… I'll be there…" A normally smooth voice, was unrecognizable, right now, it was painfully scratchy, to the point that whoever hear it would cringe because of the desperation that hold.

Sebastian was anxious and thinking too many things at one time, with one hand occupied in holding the phone, while the other was continuously passing through his messy strands of hair. He took a couple steps away from his roommate; he wanted to stay as far from him as possible.

Dark turquoises watched in disbelief how Sebastian Smythe, the same pompous arrogant teen that projected a confidence acquired thanks to pure talent, was reduced to some scared mama's boy. The pale skin, the trembling hands, the nervousness in the voice.

It wasn't Sebastian.

Right there, the captain understood the type of power that woman holds over his son, it was incredible how at even being hundreds of miles away, the French woman still infuses fear.

It was a lost cause.

He never had a chance.

Hunter's anger increased alarmingly, if he ever released his clenched hands, he would've seen the marks of his nails in his palms.

This… this right now, it was madness.

Which each word that whispered the brunette, Clarington had to increase the force on his fits, to restrain the urge to punch the nearest wall.

But at the moment that he heard the "I'll be there." He lost it.

Not being able to even see the disappointing image anymore, he rushed to the bathroom and supported all his upper weight on his hands that were on top of the sink. His head dropped unceremoniously with one snort, as if his neck couldn't support it anymore.

How…?

How could he agree?

How could he be so fucking blind?

Trying to dissipate the heated ire, the dark blond turned the handle of the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He grabbed the nearest towel and dried roughly his face with it.

He is recovering from freaking anorexia and just accepted a trip in which he'll be surrounded by triggers?

Sebastian wasn't imprudent, he was brainless.

With an incredulous exhale, he threw away the towel and looked away.

Almost immediately he regretted it and crouched to pick it up, but at recognizing the object in which the towel landed he stopped his actions.

The owner of incandescent furious green eyes was walking towards the bathroom to give a piece of his mind to his roommate, when a strenuous sound echoed in the room with a force that he is sure that at any moment someone will be knocking at the door. But instead of stopping his steps, or to even hesitate, Sebastian was totally unfazed and didn't even flinch when he entered the small bathroom.

Right there, on the floor, sink, and bathtub were several pieces of white plastic that seconds ago were…

Recognizing the pieces, for a couple of seconds, the intimidating façade broke, and the younger in the room crossed his arms uncomfortably and diverted his gaze towards anything except the floor.

Hunter broke the scale.

Because of the small size of the bathroom it was impossible for Sebastian to not see the silhouette of his roommate. The ashy blond was facing the ceramic pattern of the wall where the shower was located, all Sebastian could see from his position near the frame of the door, was the faintly erratic rise of broad shoulders, the tension in the shoulder blades, the messy strands of hair, the odd directions of the hairs at his nape; at any other night, at another moment, he would have made fun of the unfamiliar image of a Hunter Clarington losing his composure, but not tonight.

The only sound that resonated in the enclosed space was the irregular respiration from the older teen.

Hunter was pissed.

But that thought only aggravated the annoyance inside the foreign brunette.

The green eyed didn't wait to analyze that the fact that Hunter broke the scale was because he already knew about his eating disorder lapses, or that he didn't hear enough of the conversation to know why the other was threatening his mother; it wasn't in Sebastian's nature to analyze before speaking.

All his mind cares to acknowledge is that if Hunter was angry, he was beyond furious and in all his damn right.

With an increasing frown he took a step closer to the other, but his bare feet stepped on several pieces of plastic, the pain only added poison to the hurtful tone…

"Who gave you the right to-"

Intense storming deep blue eyes, at the first word, Hunter snapped out of his trance and in mere seconds turned on his heels, meeting his piercing gaze with defiant Jades.

"Please tell me that you just didn't say to that lunatic that you are leaving in a week full of exams just to pose for some photos."

If Sebastian was startled by the speed in which Clarington broke his daze and interrupted him, it didn't show.

"That lunatic is my mother and I can do with my lif- "

How he can defend her?!

Exasperated by the never ending defiance of his co-captain, Hunter refused to let the other finish any sentence.

"You won't be leaving this freaking school unt- "

At hearing that tone, that militaristic completely maddening tone, Sebastian lost any coherence and started hissing the first words that crossed his mind.

"Who do you think you are? You are nobody! You don't own me! You are not my boss!"

"Oh! I'm sorry; you just like it when your mom orders you, just she can treat you as an employee? Damn it Sebastian! You can't go there!"

When the ashy blond started to approach the green eyed brunette, by instinct, the taller of both took a couple of steps backwards, Sebastian's breath was caught inside his throat when his head hit lightly the frame of the door, his mind finally allowing to recognize the meaning of the words.

Impossibly green eyes started to burn.

Hunter knew much more that he could ever imagine.

The knot in his throat tightened.

And this time he couldn't escape.

"You have no idea of what you are talking about, what part of mind your own business you don't understand?"

He tried; he really tried to keep his attitude.

"It might not be my damn business but it's yours and it's your life, and I won't let her and your lack of common sense to ruin it."

Right now, they were so close, that the freckled boy could see the hint of grey in the blue irises. They were full of determination and… strength.

Perfect Hunter Clarington.

Inadvertently, Sebastian started to breath by his parted lips; the lack of air was too much.

He was trapped between a wall and another wall of muscles that was his roommate.

"…Back off." It was pathetic how much it sounded like a plea. He had to blink rapidly to keep at bay the increasing burn at the corner of his eyes.

But Sebastian wasn't just talking about the position they were, he was also referring to the new hobby of his intrusive roommate.

And for an instant, for a minuscule instant, while seeing the deep blue softening to turn turquoise, the brunette thought that for once in his life, Hunter was going to step away and leave him alone.

"…No." Of course not.

"BACK OFF!" Not resisting it anymore, the green-eyed pushed with both hands the furnace that was the body at millimeters of him and exited hurriedly the bathroom.

"…Sebastian." The grey flecks intensified in the piercing blue eyes while they watched the retreating figure of the taller teen. Hunter clenched his jaw as an attempt to keep at bay his frustration.

He was so tired.

With a light thump, his forehead made contact with the wooden frame, just where seconds ago was the brunette.

"I care." His eyes closed tightly.

You matter.

So damn much.

"Stop it Clarington, stop it! This isn't about you."

With renewed energy, the blue eyed swimmer entered the silent bedroom and spotted the slender teen sitting in the edge of the only clean bed, his green gaze was downcast, completely fixated on his feet. The chestnut eyebrows were slightly furrowed thoughtfully; pink lips were bitten a little while with one foot, the brunette swept absentmindedly invisible patterns on the wooden floor.

Hunter would've paid anything to know what was thinking his roommate.

He restrained himself, restrained his steps, his impulse to get nearer. He recognizes that every time that he closes distance with the other, nothing good ever happens. And the last thing he wants right now is to upset even more the lacrosse player.

His new plan was to make Sebastian eat, nothing else mattered. Tomorrow was another day; tomorrow he'll lead with Valentina Leroux. Sebastian's immediate health was more important right now.

"Smythe, listen to me, we can argue the rest of the night all you want, I'm sure you have dozens of brand new French insults just waiting for me, but right now I need you to eat." Even though his tiredness was palpable in his voice, his concern surpassed any other emotion.

He swallowed forcefully while he stood stoically at a prudent distance of the unpredictable brunette, ready for the imminent outburst. He wasn't aware that his body unconsciously adopted the position of Stand at Ease, he was standing with his feet shoulder width apart and hands behind tail bone, body braced and completely aware of the French student.

Blazing green jades lighted up, at hearing the words coming from the steady voice of the ashy blond. That voice broke the train of thoughts in the alarmed mind. It never occurred to him that one day Hunter Clarington would confront him about his eating habits… It just… it was impossible. None of them ever cared about the other…

… Unless.

Unless the perfect golden boy was just messing with him.

This was probably just some sick joke.

Well, it will backfire him, because he'll never humiliate to him.

With determination (stubbornness) in his blood, he slapped his thighs and stood up, approaching the impassible blond.

"Oh? You like my insults? Here is a new one pauvre con… Va te faire foutre!... And I don't know who name you my nurse but cut the crap right now, I'm not doing anything you want and this conversation is over… If I want to go to France or to fucking Timbuktu I'll go without any explanation to you, because guess what? It's not any of your damn businesses!"

How many times he'll have to say it!?

Looking the lack of response from the other was maddening, the military boy didn't retreat, didn't even blink. It was as if their closeness didn't affect or upset the other.

Sebastian was at this of pulling his hair in frustration.

"It might be none of my business, but you have to remember just in what place you are studding, you are in Dalton, one of the most ridiculously pompous and strictest academies in the country. And that only fact brings to my mind at least three reasons for you to rethink your foolish impulse to leave the country." The tone that the older teen used was borderline patronizing, as mocking the other boy to don't realize the situation sooner. Hunter tilted slightly his head while talking, he kept his interlaced hands behind, and begun walking in circles around his roommate, faking nonchalance while keeping an eye in the taller silhouette.

Sebastian needed all his monthly amounts of self-control to not roll his eyes. Unconsciously, like every time that he feels the scrutiny from no other than Hunter Clarington, he crosses protectively his arms. "Of what on earth are you talking about?"

The sly smirk in the handsome face turned into a smile at seeing the reactions of the brunette. "First…" Hunter pointed with his index. "Next week we start the partials, and the assistance is mandato-..."

"Oh please." The puff of air from thin pink lips removed graciously hazelnut strands of hair. "All I need to do is to get a false medical report to leave Dalton… You are so naïve." More secure of himself, Sebastian turned down his guard and placed a hand on his hipbone.

One of his eyebrows rose at hearing the word "naïve" towards him, but other than that, the behavior of the ashy blond kept completely unfazed. "Second, if I remember correctly you are the Student Council President, and that's a busy week for the council…" Hunter used his index finger to tap distractedly his own jaw, the motion only added casualness to his act of faking being deep in thought. But the amused glint in dark turquoises was the crack in the disguise.

Pretending to not being bothered by the haunting deep blue eyes, Sebastian faked indifference and brushed some rebel strands of hair behind his ear. "I'll tell Nick to take care of it."

Like receiving a drill command, a pair of shoes stopped his march with a firm sound. "Mmm." Was the sound that made the blue eyed swimmer before he hid his hands inside his pockets and negated with his head, while he approached the brunette. "I wouldn't count on it, maybe he'll feel…" He inhaled a small amount of air, his last few steps bringing him up to the French, leaving only a few inches of space between them. "…Indisposed."

Green eyes widened comically. "Look, you can't threat the entire council… be realistic." The act of false bravado could have worked, but the constants bites on soft-looking lips, crumbled down the act.

It almost made Hunter laugh, Sebastian knew perfectly well how threatening he can really be to the other students at Dalton. "I know them better than you."

"Tsk." This time the lacrosse player couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes. The captain of the Warblers was so full of himself.

"Name me four of them." The teen with military background challenged.

"Nic-…"

"That aren't Duval or Hardwood."

"… Jeff?" Smythe tilted his head slightly, his answer sounding more like a question instead of an answer.

"Jeff isn't in the council."

Oh.

Vivid Jades blinked in confusion.

He is not?

"Whatever." The brunette shook his head vigorously in an attempt to erase his distracting thoughts, his hair falling again over his eyes. "…This is ridiculous."

"And third." Three fingers entered the line of vision of the brunette, fingertips almost touching his freckled nose. "You can't go because the Warblers have a main rehearsal."

The golden flecks in the green eyes returned while they eyed with scrutiny the other teen."…You just made that up."

"I did not." He was lying out of his ass, of course.

"We don't even have a song!"

"Yes we do, we decided it today, in the cafeteria… at dinner." Now it was the turn of the ashy blond to act as if it didn't bother him the attention he was receiving.

"Really?" Sebastian crossed his arms again. "Which song?"

For the first time in the night, Hunter diverted his gaze towards the farthest corner while he tried to subtly loosen his tie... the funny thing was that he wasn't even wearing a tie. "… McFly."

"What?"

The captain coughed uncomfortably, muttering some incomprehensible insults towards some specific Hispanic Warbler. "A McFly song."

"You are telling me that you, Hunter Clarington, Mr. Protocol…" The older teen didn't enjoy one bit the remarks that the other did with his hands at calling him that. "…Did a reunion in the cafeteria, to pick up the song for Regionals, and it's a McFly one?... which one?"

For the first time in a long time, Sebastian had the upper hand in a discussion with his captain, and he'll give his solo to Trent before letting the priceless opportunity go.

The only weapon that the ashy blond could use in this situation was… indifference. "… The one of the movie." Hunter shrugged coolly; trying to rest importance to the fact that he doesn't know one single song of that band.

"Bullshit." Said the brunette with his freckled nose crinkled at mere millimeters from the other's. And before Hunter could even process the closeness between them, the foreign student was heading in the opposite direction.

"Sebastian!" Startled by the sudden movement, by impulse, Hunter grabbed the other by the wrist. There were a few seconds, in which he stared at the floor, didn't knowing what to say. "Jus-… just eat." But believing in his intuition, he just whispered what he wanted to say all night long.

Completely and utterly bewildered; wide eyes stared at the seriousness that held the attitude of his roommate.

The whole behavior of Clarington was frighteningly honest.

It left the brunette speechless, focusing on his breathing pattern to calm himself down.

"Look, I don't have a clue of what you smoked today but you have to quit it, you are scaring the shit out of me, what the hell is going on with you?! Leave me alone!" Sebastian started to move away again, but this time the firm grip of a warm hand didn't allow it, even though, he felt a solid pull by it that left him dizzy for a couple of seconds in which his world blurred until he faced the striking features of the dark blond at a breathless proximity.

"I won't leave you because you are. not. fine." The tension and strength that the captain forced in his jaw, allowed him to only speak through clenched teeth. He will not let the Parisian go away until he decided it. He held the defiant gaze with even more power and authority than he really felt.

Until he let escape an exhalation that left him drained. "And I get it, it was my fault and…" It pained him, it really affected him to see all the signs that the body language of the other was screaming at him. From his hold, he could feel the light trembles; those green eyes had their pupils dilated, just a green halo around them, the tension in the contrary's shoulders, the coldness of the contrary's skin…

Sebastian was scared of him.

Simple as that.

As reading his mind, the taller teen started struggling and pulling in the opposite direction, placing his free hand on top of the blazing one that didn't want to let him free. Refusing to let go, Hunter placated any move by using now both hands.

If it wasn't by the contrast of temperature none of them would have noticed what was just occurring.

… At unison both pair of eyes stared in astonishment their positions.

They were holding hands.

Sebastian came back to reality faster than the other and at the mere sense of distraction from Hunter; the green eyed took the opportunity and set himself free. "Stop it! I don't care! You don't matter! You didn't hurt me!" The brunette stumbled in his steps and closed his eyes with force, while he crossed his arms in a tight embrace.

Like trying to shut his mind.

He didn't want to hear more fake apologies.

He has heard them his whole life.

Trapped in his thoughts, the distracted brunette catches his breath with an involuntary tremble when he feels a pair of warm hands at each side of his face.

"I… I kn- " Hunter closed his eyes tightly at noticing his stutters, when he opened them again; his determination was back, blue eyes never being so bright in their life. "I know you ok? I…" For the hundredth time he exhaled, he was trying to control his respiration and the fast beating of his heart. It was painfully obvious how hard it was for him to express the words that he wanted to say. "I know you enough to determinate that you have three stages of anger…" At seeing how the Parisian parted his lips, before he was interrupted, unconsciously, he tightened his hold in the freckled face and raced his words. "I know that when you start cursing is just your first stage, and then you start to speak with your French accent, pronouncing th- like a z sound and putting emphasis on the last syllable…" He licked his lips while his mind kept encouraging him. "… And then, you start cursing in French!" His eyes lightened up at seeing how the green ones at mere millimeters widened comically.

"I do not… y-you stupid piece of... connard." Because of the hands that were holding his face, Sebastian couldn't hide the increasing and annoying warmth that rushed to his cheeks.

The deep chuckle that echoed in the room and the delighted sparkle of life that radiated the blue eyes of the swimmer didn't help to control his embarrassment.

But what really almost made his legs give in were the sensation of a calloused thumb rub faintly against his cheek.

"There, face one, two and three combined… See, I know you." For long seconds, the blue gaze was lost in the pattern of freckles in the left cheekbone, marveled by the softness of the skin and… Hunter always wondered if he would feel any difference or any discordance in the skin because of the freckles but… no… the freckles were just as soft as the rest of the smooth skin. Because of the closeness, he felt the tremble in the brunette, getting back to reality, and now, it was his turn to be embarrassed, his eyebrows frowned, the only indication that he was reprimanding himself for his behavior. He even had to cough to dissipate his agitation, making his voice sound even deeper. "Now, if you want to be upset at me, at least be upset for a good reason, I prefer you hating me than hating food."

Shit.

That sounded better in his head.

"…" Even Sebastian was speechless.

With fear to aggravate the situation, the older teen took a step back to give the other space, but he still kept contact by a gentler grip on the slim wrist. "I didn't mean it like th-…"

"You are an asshole." At recovering from his stupor, Sebastian hissed the first words that crossed his mind.

"And your mom is a bitch."

Oh well, God knows he tried to talk and convince the other right?

Now, when Hunter can't fix a situation with words… he always finds other ways.

Too tired and frustrated to rethink, he pulled the mad boy by the wrist and ignoring the immediate resistance, with steady steps he marched 'til his desk and brusquely slid the wooden chair. "Now eat." With a considerably lack of gentleness, he let go of the wrist and before his roommate could even think, he placed both hands on the contrary's shoulders and pushed him down on the chair. "Or I'll make you." He growled.

There were at least fifty French profanities that the brunette wanted to say out loud to the other to hear (and make him cry with them.) But that would've given the stupid military brat the reason… He does not speak in French or losses his composure and perfect American accent when he is near Hunter Clarington.

Besides, if he tries harder his wrist is going to break in two and separate from his arm.

"What is this?" The lacrosse player raised an eyebrow in incredulity at seeing in front of him a platter with a couple of sandwiches, a fruit salad (he eyed with annoyance how Hunter knew that he liked it with extra strawberries and no trace of melon) and a bottle of flavored water. Feeling the heavy weight of the hands at each side of his shoulders he couldn't stop his childlike behavior and crossed his arms and crinkled his nose in disgust. "Now you are going to supervise me?"

"If I have to." The ashy blond supported his hipbone at the edge of the desk, entering in the camp of vision of the other, who eyed with a boredom expression how the captain of the Warblers crossed his arms, mimicking him. The main difference was that even though both of them were wearing hoodies, Hunter's biceps still looked kind of impressive. The blond was such a show off.

Green jades stared up and down at his roommate and their owner huffed without interest.

"I have all night Sebastian."

Oh, if looks could kill…

Smythe's aura distilled murdering thoughts and danger.

Without breaking his gaze from the arrogant turquoises, Sebastian extended his arm and barely parted his lips to bite lightly the first thing that his hand grabbed.

Little by little and with no winner defined in the battle of glares, the younger teen ate more than a half of a sandwich and ended the fruit salad.

But instead of looking pleased because the much more than imperceptibly pang of his stomach finally disappeared, the brunette was just an admonition of being out of the lacrosse team because of a murder towards his roommate.

Who was the pinnacle of overconfidence.

But behind that casual demeanor, Hunter's body and mind were beyond relieved.

Finally he could breathe properly, the knot trapped in his throat disappeared, the weight on his chest vanished.

He just made Sebastian eat.

Him.

Not Nick or Jeff or Richard… HIM.

"Was that so hard to do? Now, go the bathroom and if I hear any suspicious sound of vomit I'll break the door."

"Have a happy go to hell!"

This time, when the door of the bathroom closed, Hunter didn't stare at the ceiling with resignation, but with a soft smile plastered on his face.

IX

Any trace of a smile disappeared from the handsome face that has a club of fans of its own in Crawford Academy.

Hunter scratched unconsciously his already messy strands of hair while he stood stupidly in the middle of the room with a sleeping bag in his hand.

Because… He was in a dilemma.

While there was absolutely no doubt that Smythe was going to sleep in his bed, after all… it was Smythe's bed the one that his cat morbidly stained, that justice system brings another query.

Where was he going to sleep?

Don't get him wrong, he knows that sleeping in his bed with his roommate was definitely, completely, absolutely and downright fully out of the question.

They already filled their monthly estimation of fights and insults in the night, thank you very much.

But he isn't sure if he should stay in the room.

He has a key for almost every important part of the academy. And the library or the common room, have furniture that are exponentially comfier than… the floor.

But…

Involuntarily, tired greyish blue eyes gazed towards the closed door of the bathroom.

Every time that he takes a step closer to leave the room, his eyebrows furrow more and some sensation borderline anxiety increases.

He doesn't want to leave alone the brunette.

What if he throws up? Niff told him that Sebastian isn't a bulimic, but you never know with the French… What if he escapes and goes to some random bar to get rid of his anger?... Or worse… What if he calls his mother?!

That last thought made him drop the sleeping bag with a loud sound.

"Stop making so much noise, if the others start knocking the door to shut you up, you are the one that is going to explain it to the headmaster." The bored tone came from the doorframe of the bathroom, and like it came it went, the owner turned off the lights of the bathroom leaving the room in total darkness, just the sounds of the comforter being moved and a soft meow were the indication that Sebastian was accommodating on the bed and that way he was ending the conversation.

The ashy blond sighs with resignation.

People don't give him enough credit… He is a nice and patient person.

Still rubbing the short hairs at his nape, with heavy steps he went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and pick up the pieces of the scale that he broke.

He grimaces at remembering those seconds in which his mind blacked out and let his anger domain his actions. Unfortunately, not an uncommon behavior.

But to his surprise, the pieces were gone. He couldn't stop blinking in disbelief while his eyes gazed around the small place… Smythe picked them.

Huh.

Well… he'll thank him later.

Before he went to sleep, he pulled a couple of times the door of the balcony to check that it was closed, last thing he wants is to wake up with another dead bird on a bed.

"Have you always been this annoying? Let me sleep!"

Hunter immediately stopped his actions at hearing the cranky spat, and opened his mouth. "I wouldn't be doing any of this; in fact, I'll be comfortably sleeping if it wasn't because you left this damn door open!" And closed it without saying a single word; pressuring his clenched jaw in an attempt to control his desire to say the words that his mind kept yelling at him.

He won't fall this time.

Sebastian was lashing at him (and will be for a long time). The other was scared because he knew too much and invaded his comfort zone. And as a scared cat that was cornered, he'll try to hurt the others so he can run away.

But not this time, tonight Hunter won the battle, and he'll make sure to keep winning.

No more fights!

Now…

Apathetically eyes stared down at his boring and uncomfortable sleeping bag.

It wasn't fair.

"No more fights, no more fights."

With a last grunt he clicked his tongue in annoyance and went to sleep.

It wouldn't matter where he slept anyway, he was beyond exhausted, and he should fall asleep in a matter of seconds.

…

It has been like five hours (25 minutes) and he couldn't sleep.

The shoulder that he dislocated last summer was killing him. For the thousandth time, he turned to his side and changed the flexed arm that he was using as a pillow.

He threw Sebastian's pillows because of the stains, and while there were two pillows per bed…

His eyes narrowed, trying to adjust and difference the silhouettes in the dark, the subtle hill that he assumed was Sebastian, and next to him…

He distinguished easily the green feline orbs that were staring in his direction.

… His cat was comfortably sitting on top of the free pillow, next to a sleeping brunette. Like reading his mind, the white Persian stirred, bristling the silky fur in the process, and after a routine of accommodation, the feline rested turning his back on him.

"Traitor."

That cat should be the one sleeping on the floor!

"Let's see who will feed you tomorrow."

X

"What was that horrible sound?"

A grunt followed by a roll.

"Why it doesn't end?"

A whine and another roll.

And then coldness.

The half- conscious teen let escape a soft cry because of the abrupt wake up.

Heavy freckled eyelids opened slowly and blinked in the obscure room.

"Mmmhp?" With a laziness that would make a snail proud, he tucked the part of the comforter that was too far because of the rolling and leaved his left side at the mercy of the mean and bad cold. Everything that perturbed his sleep was evil and bad and… mean… and…deserved to be eradicated of the Earth and the whole cosmos.

"Stuid ssss- le b…eeeds." (Stupid single beds). Being surrounded by warmness again, with a tiny smile the brunette was leaving the consciousness again when…

…

"Was that a bear?" Perplexed by the sound, the green eyed dared to venture his body outside of his warm realm. (He just let the tip of his nose being out; the rest of his body was still a French Wrap.)

"You've got to be kidding me." His deadpan tone was the mother of all the deadpan tones. Because the reason of that horrid sound was no other than a sprawled Hunter Clarington.

If last year somebody would have told him that because of that slushie accident he'll be receiving the curse of Nazi Clarington, he world have slushied himself instead.

I mean, come on, the seven plagues of Egypt weren't as bad as this! They weren't for a whole year!

With puffed blushed cheeks and angry eyes, he studied from afar how the normally portrait of perfection and composure that was his roommate, was now a mess of hair and muscles and… drool.

"If only your club of fans looked at you like this… The swim tournaments could be a lot calmer."

It seemed that the blond had a fight with the sleeping bag; that was now resting in defeat tangled between the legs, he was resting on his side, using an extended arm as a pillow, the ashy strands of hair were in positions that defied more than one physic law and perfectly shaped lips parted in synchronization to let out the… snores, for a lack of a better word, because those sounds weren't snores.

Oh! And how could he forget the tray of saliva from the corner of that bloody mouth?

"You have to be a pain in the ass 24/7 huh?"

It was obvious that the snores were caused by the ridiculously uncomfortable position in which the captain was sleeping, but what his mind doesn't have the energy to process is the why?

Why that moronic arrogant peacock is sleeping on the damn floor?!

Why Oh-why he isn't sleeping in the common room? Where are hundredths of comfortable sofas! And more importantly… AWAY FROM HIM!

What could be so important that the other doesn't want to-…

…Oh.

Inside his chest he felt a small and very tiny thunderbolt spin.

He was so embarrassed; that he ignored the pain on his lips because of the force in the biting.

"Sebastian wake up!"

He shook his head vigorously to break that line of thoughts and sensations.

If the pretentious army brat wanted to sleep on the floor because out of nowhere he realized that he belongs to a society called humanity and was too bored to be a cyborg… well.

It was his decision… He has nothing to do about it.

"Whatever."

With a flippantly move he covered himself again from head to toe; and decided to ignore the situation.

"This has nothing to do with you; you are probably a hamster's project to him, don't let him get into you, is just an act… just that." With his eyes pressed and a pout forming in his lips, he was in full concentration trying to shut down the snores and let the voice of his conscience (yes, he has one) comfort him.

…

Arg!

But it was hard to ignore those sounds.

Not thinking clearly, he grabbed the pillow at his side, and ignoring the angry hiss that came from it, he threw the pillow that landed straight on the face at steps from his bed.

There.

He shut him up.

If he awakes, he'll use the pillow and the snores from hell will end, if not… the dark blond might die asphyxiated.

It was a win-win situation.

XI

Doubts about Alvarez's theory are founded in equally credible explanations of the KT boundary. One notable theory is the "KT-Deccan Traps volcanism-induced carbon cycle perturbation extinction theory" of Dewey McLean, Professor Emeritus of Geology in the Department of Geological Sciences, Virginia Polytechnic Institute, Blacksburg, VA. Besides the science, what makes McLean's theory attractive is the amount of effort Alvarez has invested to suppress it. […]

"Of all the pointless things that the Education System teaches this one has to win a price."

In one of the farthest desks of the classroom, a green eyed brunette didn't even attempt to hide his yawn.

With one hand supporting his head, he diverted his half-lidded eyes to the window at his side.

"Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it… Stop thinking about it!"

He won't let his thoughts wonder around what happened yesterday. Although, he can't shut his mind, he can't control the anxiety he feels every time that he tries to guess what Clarington will do next.

Since when, he knew about his lapses? What was he going to do about it? Will he torment him?

He can already imagine the hell he will have to live from now own. The blond would never leave him alone, he found a weakness and he can bet a kidney that the army brat will explode it. Probably the bastard will start to bribe him with decisions about the Warblers, will make him arrive early (on time), will reschedule the Lacrosse practices, or worse, will make him go to the practice on Saturdays!

What if he starts to torment him to eat?

What if he messes with his system? He spent years trying and trying to find a balance between the amounts of food that he can accept in his body and the routines of exercises he does, he spent years trying to feel comfortable with himself. He already has days in which his fragile balance trembles… if Nazi Clarington messes with it… his whole system will crumble.

He won't let Hunter Clarington control him, first dead before letting that closed minded military cyborg shatter his life.

With renewed determination in his eyes, he picked up his pen and started taking notes for the first time since he attended that class.

His refilled despise towards his captain let him subside that tiny and super annoying guilt that he felt in the morning… Well… he wasn't used to hear from that proximity the blaring military-ish alarm that his roommate has on top of the night table and if you add to the mix the fact that he wasn't a morning person… Well… He kind of picked the stupid clock and in the middle of his angry awakening, he threw far away the piece of plastic… that it landed in the head of his roommate.

Now, he hopes that the others don't link the strenuous sounds from last night with the new bump that adorns lovely the forehead of the swimmer.

With the new realization, he dropped the pen and hided his face between his hands.

… Merde, he might get expelled this time.

Arrrrg! He was losing his mind because of that peacock!

From afar, brown eyes watched with worry how his friend pulled the same hazelnut locks that normally you can only touch if you want to lose your hand.

Biting his lip, Jeff typed fast on his phone a sms to his boyfriend.

To Nick: Nick, it is worse than we thought, something happened! I told you that letting HUNTER of all people to soothe him was a terrible idea!

Not even a minute later, his phone vibrated.

From Nick: … You might be right.

Jeff's eyes widened while he took his phone from under the desk, and shook the device in exasperation.

To Nick: WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!

Not being able to control his nervousness, he started to drum un-rhythmically the surface of his desk at the compass of some McFly song that Thad has been humming for days.

For an eternity, the platinum blond had to endure and fake indifference at the odd looks from his classmates.

The looks didn't subside when out of the blue, the normally serene blond, bounced on his chair.

From Nick: …Ok… but don't freak out.

Jeff looked at the ceiling with frustration.

To Nick: NICK!

It wasn't for another fifteen minutes that the screen of his phone lighted up again.

From Nick: Paul told me that apparently, last night crashing sounds could be heard from their room and... I might or might not see from here what it could be a… small bump… in Clarington's forehead.

Jeff gasped.

To Nick: A bump?... Is it big?... How is it?

From Nick: What do you mean? A bump looks like a bump! What it's important is that everyone seems to think that they had a big fight.

Are in moments like this that he gets upset when people assumes that he is the slow one in their relationship.

To Nick: Nick wake up! They HAD a big fight! Ohmygosh what if Sebastian hit him with something dangerous?! What if Hunter punched him?!

Not thinking clearly, Jeff rose up and looked directly at his best friend with big round eyes in search of any injury.

"JEFFERSON STERLING!" The teacher admonished him with an incredulous tone.

Jeff flinched on his spot, coming back to the real world, realizing the space and time where he was. The nervous blond looked at the skeptical professor and then at the brunette that was looking at him from afar with his head tilted in confusion.

He raised his trembling hands. "I'm sorry" He mouthed to his friend.

The professor coughed loudly towards him.

"I'M SORRY! Ups… I'm sorry." Feeling his face on flames he sat as fast as he rose and timidly touched the screen of his phone when he stopped feeling the looks on him.

From Nick: Hunter would never punch Sebastian. Push him, pull him, lock him, even smack him on the back of his head, but not punch him. I think that all is just a misunderstanding... I'll talk to him.

Jeff blinked repeatedly while he re-read the words over and over again.

He doesn't understand from where comes this sudden faith in his captain from part of his boyfriend.

It feels…

…Like if Nicholas knew something.

Last night he was left speechless when he saw his boyfriend reveal some parts of Sebastian's situation to someone they barely know.

One thing was to ask Wes and David for help to keep an eye on Sebastian; but another was to tell Hunter that Sebastian had some dangerous background in anorexia.

Of course that he calmed when he noticed how careful was Nick to not reveal the important details… but still.

He can't help to feel wary and be a bit overprotective with Sebastian.

They earned that vote of faith, they earned his trust… People can't even begin to imagine how special is to have that type of closeness with someone as… secretive as Sebastian. And if Sebastian ever finds out what they just did… if Hunter isn't what Nicholas thinks he is… if he uses the information to bother his friend…

If something ever happens to him…

Jeff fully closed his eyes in apprehension.

He'll trust Nick's judgment.

To Nick: I'll talk with Seb.

Three minutes later the couple received in each phone identical texts.

From Nick: Good luck.

From Jeff: Good luck.

XII

While Jeff is the type of student that sits in the middle of the classroom, to have full view of what the teacher writes in the chalkboard, almost in one of the first rows, to have his full attention on the class and to focus his energies to concentrate and catch all the important facts. Sebastian sits in one of the last seats, in all his classes his spot is next to a window, his concentration alternates in almost everything except whatever comes from the mouth of the professor. That's why Jeff always comes out first, and that's why he is clumsily waiting outside the classroom, with his back resting on a wall and his eyes downcast, stubbornly fixated on the floor, to avoid all the stares and the approaches of the curious classmates that want to know why he acted the way he did in the middle of a lecture.

"We won't take a no for an answer Smythe, we'll even tell Rick to carry you if we have to, got it?" He was awkwardly nodding a salute, when he heard the voice of Harry coming out of the room; the guy was the co-captain of the lacrosse team and if he remembers correctly he was known for throwing "good luck" parties before the week of partials started and "C- is approved and the rest is a bonus" parties after them.

"Yes, I heard you the first fifteen times." At hearing the smooth voice of his friend, Jeff eyed the door.

"Well, I'll pass by your room to pick you." The lacrosse player was walking backwards, causing him to stumble on the blond. "Oh! Sorry Jeff…" The expression plastered on the teen showed genuine concern. Before the blond could even open his mouth, the energetic teen was already walking towards the corner. "Take care guys!"

"What a nice guy."

The whole behavior of Harry left Jeff speechless, blinking several times in his direction. Jeff was deep in thought, thinking in all the times he tried (and failed) to change Sebastian's refusal about dating classmates… Harry could be a good boyfriend for Sebastian.

It wasn't until he saw the tall silhouette of his friend disappear by the same corner that he woke up from his dreamland state of mind.

"Seb! Sebastian!" He almost ran in the middle of the corridor to catch his friend, he even stamps his shoulder on the wall when he slides crossing the corner. "Stupid slippery shoes."

"Yeah?" In contrast with his breathless friend, Sebastian was the portrait of aloofness.

"Want to join me?" If the brunette was curious as to why the other was rubbing his shoulder, it didn't show.

"I don-…" Vibrant green eyes gazed towards a far corner; but when they eyed the warm brown eyes at such a close distance, their owner exhaled in resignation. "Yeah ok." Thanks to the light shade of gel, the too long hazelnut locks didn't move when the brunette dropped his head.

Both teens walked in silence for a couple of minutes. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence but… unusual. Sebastian was walking while eyeing the windows at their side, thinking in something to say; while Jeff was biting his nail trying to suppress his wants to bombard the other with questions.

"Hey, are you?..."

"What happe-…"

Both teens said at unison, and immediately shared a small laugh. Jeff nodded, asking the other to talk first.

"What happened to you in the class?" The foreign boy asked with his head tilted in curiosity and confusion, the behavior of his friend earlier left him puzzled, how out of nowhere the blond rose up and even mouthed him an apology? Jeff is usually serene and well-behaved, even drunk the blond is a mushy marshmallow with koala tendencies.

"Oh! Ummm…" The blond bit his nail again, before furrowing his eyebrows at remembering that he was in a public space. "I thought for a moment that I let the door open and that Maximus could have escaped." The platinum blond related the words eying the ceiling, as if he was remembering a recipe. When he ended, his smile was… weird, it was halfway to become a grimace full of hesitance.

"But you didn't?" Sebastian's mouth twitched as he tried to keep away a smile, it was endearing how Jeff behaved around Maximus, Jeff's birthday present from his part, the French bulldog was going to be the death of Nick. (Literally, he was allergic.)

"Nah, it's alright." Jeff waved a hand resting it importance.

In a more comfortable silence, both teens entered the cafeteria and waited in line for their turn to pick the food. Jeff waved to some friends, and examined the immense space, discreetly looking for his boyfriend or Hunter… None of them were at the cafeteria.

While Sebastian faked being busy with his phone in an attempt to control some annoying nerves. He hates to wait in line; he hates to wait, period… But waiting for food that he doesn't even like? It was plain torture. Besides, he knows what the other was doing, Jeff isn't very subtle to begin with, the other was checking if he had a relapse. Yesterday he sounded very upset by the phone and while it was true, he hadn't eaten in the whole day… He would never give the other any clue of what was happening to him since last night. He knows that the concern was honest and pure, but… Everything that is related with his lapses or even his mother… those things are too personal issues to share.

He doesn't feel comfortable.

He shifts his weigh uncomfortably; he is starting to have some problems trying to keep his breath at bay.

"Is Jeff, come on, just Jeff." Nobody was trying to control what he should eat… It was just Jeff.

With that mantra inside his head, he nodded politely to the ladies in the cafeteria and avoided at all cost the gaze of his friend at his side.

If instead of Jeff was any other person (Hunter), he would have already leaved the damn place, not without some lovely words about sticking their greasy dead meat that they call food inside their asses.

He almost did tough, when he courteously rejected some smelly beans in his plate and Jeff's eyes were round as golf balls and whimpered… whimpered… like a puppy.

It was unnerving how the other was looking at him as if he was a kid with just one leg trying to ride a bike.

This, this right here, was the reason why he doesn't let anyone near him. Because once the others know about his… condition, the others freak out and now he can't have one minute of peace. Now, he just doesn't have to deal with the freak he really is, but in addition has to deal with the reaction from others… has to be extremely careful to not lash out or concern others, about something that quite frankly it's anyone's business!

Feeling the discomfort (to put it nicely), emanating from the captain of the lacrosse team, a nervous Jeff tugged lightly the sleeve of the deep blue blazer next to him. "Emm.. there!" The blond pointed some distant tables that were for two. He knows that the bizarre times that Sebastian Smythe hasn't a crowd of people wanting to have his sporadic attention, what the brunette really enjoys is to sit in those tables in discreetness.

"Oh…" The green eyed blinked a couple of times. "Thanks." He shrugged before he started to walk in that direction. With unusual heaviness, and lack of his normally graceful laziness, he sat on the chair.

While Jeff followed him with his head bowed slightly. Watching the other eats in silence, and seeing the signs of tiredness and unease, the now opaque green eyes, Jeff bit his lips in guilt.

He didn't want to upset Sebastian.

… Was it really so bad to worry about him?

He knows that he tends to exaggerate most things but… He can't help it.

He will always act like a mother hen when the French is in trouble.

… And yesterday, he let Hunter Clarington (of all people) to take care of his best friend.

Not being able to support the silence anymore, the platinum blond twitched in his seat. "I'm really sorry that we couldn't go last night, I really am Seb, is just…" Jeff forced his eyes to look straight into the green orbs. "…Nick said that you probably wanted to sleep and…" A frustrated sigh escaped and his eyes fell to the table again. "I'm sorry I didn- …"

"It's ok, don't worry." The brunette interrupted him offhandedly. Jeff was surprised to see how fast it disappeared any trace of discomfort in the body language of the taller teen, it was a different person. There was a charming smile and everything. "Nick was right, just after you called I fell asleep, even if you knocked I wouldn't had been able to hear you…" Sebastian trailed off until he took a piece of carrot and took a small bite of it. "It would have been a waste of time." Not even once, the brunette stared directly at him.

"Bu- "

"Don't worry about it; I'm serious Jeff." This time, serious green jades looked at him and... "Stop blaming yourself about something so meaningless." It might have been said with one of the smoothest and most fascinating voices he'd ever heard… But it was an order.

"…"

"SEBASTIAN!" An unnecessary loud voice almost screamed.

"Hi Bas."

"… Hi Rick…Thad." Once again, Sebastian reassumed his more common nonchalant behavior. And it was Jeff the one that raised an eyebrow at seeing how Thad took some random chair and placed it in the minuscule space that the table provides.

"Man I texted you earlier like crazy, I need your notes from Latin." Said the Hispanic boy before he started to eat, already ignoring how Jeff and Sebastian stopped eating because of the lack of space.

"I'll…" With an amused sparkle, Sebastian eyed the puffy cheeks full of food of his friend. "I'll give them to you for next period." With a casual gesture, Sebastian placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand.

"Thank you!" Everybody in the table grimaced at how Thad spoke with the mouth full of food. "You wouldn't believe what I've been through to ge-..."

While he was cleaning his face with a napkin, he couldn't suppress a small jump at hearing a voice so close to him. "You didn't go to practice yesterday are… are you alright?" But he calmed instantly at recognizing that it was Richard. Despise his size; Richard was the sweetest and most gentle guy in entire Ohio. There were people in this world that were shy and then, it was Richard, a total new category. "The gu-guys and even the coach were worried."

"Oh? Yeah…" Sebastian licked his lips. "I just had a small migraine, that's all." He smiled in what he wants to believe is a reassuring way; just a few people were able to tell that they received that type of smile.

The monumental teen shifted on his feet, he was standing next to Sebastian, with the platter on his hands but without sitting, there wasn't enough space for him.

"If you want, we can go and eat with th-…" Sebastian opened his mouth already accepting wherever his friend wanted to go before…

"… and I had to sit with a moody Clarington for the whole dinner, trying to know where you were?!" The brunette diverted his attention and eyed with amusement how Thad ended one of his usual rants and Jeff was sending daggers with his eyes at the Hispanic black haired teen, it was obvious that Sterling wasn't enjoying the interruption from his classmates.

"…" But at the mere mention of his roommate, Sebastian couldn't hide his change of demeanor; he dropped his gaze and stopped supporting his head in his hands.

"Bas is it true what the others are saying? That you and him h-…" Thad slipped closer to him, invading his personal space.

"Ok! That's…" Jeff started to say in exaltation.

"Thad, why don't you go and sit somewhere else? Here is a bit crowed." Out of nowhere Nick appeared behind the Hispanic boy and used his always calm tone to make act of presence.

"What?! I got here first than you an- …" Thad was interrupted by Richard that took him by his arm, and effortlessly raised the much smaller teen. "Harry it's calling at us… I'll tell the others that you are ok Bas."

"Thank you Richard." He smiled sincerely at the other.

"Hey Bas." Nick sat where seconds ago was sitting Thad.

"Hi Nick." He answered with fake energy and resumed his task of… playing with the food.

While the brunette was pretending that the lettuce was the Lonely Mountain and that the carrot was Smaug… Nick and Jeff were playing a game of signals in which neither of them understood what the other was saying.

"Hunter?" The blond mouthed exaggeratedly.

Nick just denied with his head.

…

When Nick's eyes were eyeing with worry how the brunette was smashing the piece of carrot on top of… fourteen grains of rice? Jeff tugged his sleeve and shook him back to reality.

Hazel eyes watched in confusion how the platinum blond made gestures while pointing the distracted brunette.

Nick rolled his eyes.

"I can't understand you." He whispered lowly and started to eat in silence.

Jeff exhaled in annoyance, moving the platinum bangs of hair that started to cover his eyes.

There were four minutes of peace until Jeff couldn't handle the silence anymore. That's why with a no so subtle touch with his elbow, the blond pushed his boyfriend. "I was telling Seb about why we couldn't go yesterday to his room."

"Oh.. yeah." Nick eyed warily his boyfriend and took his time to think in something to say, grabbing a napkin to clean his mouth. "I let the door open and we had to search Maximus and…Hey!" The kick to his leg was unexpected.

What the couple haven't noticed yet, was that long ago they had the attention of the brunette that was looking at them with amusement in his eyes.

"Really?" Sebastian rested his chin on his hand one more time, and interrupted the battle of looks between the funny couple. "Is that why you were so scared this morning about it Jeff?" Asked simply and with a smartass smile.

It was obvious that something was going on between those two… one of them was lying. And he was curious to know whom.

"Ye- yeah." Jeff's blush spread like fire.

"Cut the act both of you."

"I'm so sorry!... Nick said that- " The pleading tone and the nervous behavior of his best friend sent an alarm to him.

Wait…

Any trace of amusement disappeared from the boyish features, while an oppressive feeling started to form a knot inside his chest.

"What did Nick say… and to whom?" His green eyes studied the downcast faces, how Jeff's golden locks hid his eyes, how his shoulders were slightly curved… And then they saw Nick, how the other's calm mask was quickly disappearing and was being replaced by fear.

"…" Sebastian exhaled the last breath he had in his lungs.

He couldn't believe it.

Reading the realization in the green orbs, Nick rushed his words. "Sebastian wait, you have to understand th-…"

"I can't believe you!" Not being able to look at those faces anymore, the brunette stood up and ignoring the looks from the students in other tables, with quick steps he left the cafeteria.

It all made sense now.

That's how Hunter knew everything. That's why out of nowhere the other was acting so different with him.

Of all the people he thought that could betray him… It never… it never crossed his mind that those two were going to be the ones who did.

"Sebastian wait!"

"Please Seb!"

Hearing the steps resonate through the lonely corridor, Sebastian froze and turned on his heels. Making the couple stop abruptly. Jeff swallowed in uneasiness; it wasn't a nice feeling to be the one receiving that green glare.

"I can't believe that you, both of you could act behind my back like that…" The French trailed before he started walking again, Nick opened his mouth, already forming calming words to the exasperated brunette that was retreating when the taller turned again, surprising the hazel eyed teen for the second time… "And of all people… him… him?!... Who gave you the right to decide about my life?! If you didn't want to-…"

Shit. Sebastian was starting to lash out, if they don't stop him soon, the other might start saying hurtful things.

"No! Please! It's not like that! Is not!... Nick! Tell him that…" Jeff was so ought of his comfort zone that he couldn't think; he never thought that Sebastian would react that badly.

"Sebastian please, give us a chance to explain what happened…." Placing his fear aside, Nick's tone was still light, it had unsure shades, but it was still full of fondness towards his friend.

"We didn't plan it! It was an accident! He heard us talking to you by the phone!" Jeff rushed his words, afraid that at any moment Sebastian will slip out of his fingertips.

"It was my mistake." Nick placed gently a hand on his partner's shoulder, trying to calm him down too. "I didn't hear Clarington getting closer to us… I apologize, but what Jeff said is true, it was an accident."

"I don't believe you." Sebastian crossed his arms, and it pained Jeff to see it, the other always does that when he thinks that someone will hurt him.

"Seb…"

"I don't believe you!" Sebastian took a couple of steps back. "How… how could he know so much?... You must have told him everything."

"No!" Jeff took a step closer that the brunette ignored.

"… What do you mean? What did Hunter told you?... What happened last night?" Inquired Nick with patience.

"Did Hunter hurt you?!" Asked Jeff after he gasped.

"No he… he…" Sebastian crossed his arms even more tightly, and bit his lip. "He was adamant about me eating that damn dinner and…" The taller teen started to walk deep in thought, back and forth. Full of confusion, he passed multiple times his hand by his long locks; the gel on them was starting to disappear, leaving in odd positions the silky strands. "Then he was insulting my mom by the phone! And acting all weird with his touches and his eyes were all intense and…" Nick raised an eyebrow at hearing how the smooth voice was losing his intensity and the last words were a soft whisper.

"What did you tell him?!" The brunette finally asked adamant.

"Just that we were going to bring you some food and- …" Started to explain Nick.

"He insulted your mom?! What words did he use?" An excited Jeff asked while clapping his hands.

"…- and that we wanted make sure that you ate it." Finalized the member of the council, with a concerned gaze towards his boyfriend.

"That can't be all… you had to…"

"Then he asked us why we were so worried about you and then… Nick, told him that you sometimes forget to eat some meals and because you missed the lacrosse practice, we were worried that maybe it had to do something about your eating habits… Then he started digging more and… he is really a hard person to say no." The platinum blond couldn't repress an involuntary shudder at remembering the piercing blue eyes of their captain… Dalton really needs to stop hiring captains that have anger issues.

"He already knew Sebastian; some part of him had to at least be suspicious, because he started asking questions." Nick suggested his hypothesis. He hasn't told Jeff about it but… for a long time he has some… ideas about the reason behind the dynamic of their captains and… last night he started to work about it.

"More like demanding answers." Added Jeff with a grumble.

"Yes…" Begun to explain Nick with hesitance, he had to be extremely careful with the words he was going to use. "…But you have to believe us Sebastian, we just told him that years ago you had some episode and that you are now completely recovered."

"He sure as hell treats me like a recovered person!" Exclaimed in disbelief the brunette; letting fall his arms in defeat. "You are lying! You weren't there! You didn't see him! The words he used… he knows everything!"

Nick and Jeff couldn't understand.

He should have known that they wouldn't understand.

They can act as if they did… but they would never fully know.

What it is to… no matter what you do… you'll always hate yourself.

And they just gave his biggest secret, his biggest weakness… to the only person that can truly hurt him.

Because Hunter was… the power that Hunter has over him was because…

"He didn't hear it from us…" Sebastian didn't notice that he had closed his eyes, until he opened them in surprise at feeling a pair of arms around him. "…Believe us." Pleaded softly his best friend, while the arms around him tightened.

"I don't know what to believe anymore." Whispered in return the brunette, this wasn't one of their usual arguments, this time Jeff couldn't hug him into submission until he accepted to watch Frozen for the second time... This time…when Jeff leaned in close and his cheek almost touched his own, so close that he could almost feel the contrasting heat radiating from the blond's face… it really hurt.

With an icy façade, he removed the arms around him and started to walk in the opposite direction.

This time he only heard just one pair of steps following him.

"Sebastian… Is there a chance, a possibility… that you might be ignoring?" Nick placed a hand on the slim shoulder, waiting for the other to turn around.

"Of what are you talking about?" Asked Sebastian with emotionless voice.

"That Hunter might care about you? That all this time he had his assumptions, his theories but… only when he heard us, he put the pieces together?" There, Nick finally said it, now it was the turn of that pair of thick heads to work and put the final pieces together.

"The moment you used the words Hunter and care in the same sentence you lost all credibility to me." From above his shoulder, cold green eyes stared down at him, leaving Nick without words, taking the stunned expression as his signal to leave, the brunette hided his hands inside his pockets and started to walk without looking back.

"Seb!"

XIII

"Hunter might care about you." Yeah, right. Obviously sticking his nose in the bleached hair of his boyfriend finally started to affect the neurons of that dwarf.

The words were said in a mocking tone, it was probably the low temperature or the physical challenge of climbing a hill, which caused that the white puffs of air escaped the thin pink lips in an erratic way.

In a volatile impulse, he decided to ignore the rest of his classes for the day and grabbed the keys of his car and drove far away. It wasn't a surprise for him when he found himself parking in some random spot in the road with the antique infrastructure of Crawford Academy at mere miles.

Usually when he can't deal with the amount of crap in his life, and he feels like there are no enough cigarettes in the world that can tranquilize or eradicate the coldness he feels… he escapes reality here.

Who would knew that such a merveilleux place could be found in Ohio.

His eyes narrowed until were mere green lines at remembering one of the times that he came to the chapel's ruins… the only time that he came accompanied, was by no other than Hunter Clarington, before he knew the asshole he was.

It might not be the first time that he came to that place because he was furious at the ashy blond, but it was the first time that he just didn't want to kick in the balls his roommate, but kick Nick's balls too.

Just because he was in a stable relationship, with a scholarship to some Ivy College, didn't give him the right to mess and interfere in the lives of others. Nick always wanted to be the voice of reason. "Stop putting alcohol in your coffee Sebastian. Don't go out with that man Sebastian. Sebastian, when you'll start to appreciate yourself? Sebastian, why don't you invite your family to the recitals?" Despite his lack of breath, the green eyed brunette didn't end the imitation of Duval's voice.

"Well guess what foolish con, I invited them and they didn't come!" Lashed out to no one the foreign boy, no one could hear him in the uninhabited place.

Nick has the fixer complex, always trying to repair problems that don't concern him.

He can't believe how horrible these few days have been.

He ran a hand through the long locks that were in his camp of vision, already without gel.

To find his bed full of blood stains and organs of a dead animal, to hear insults from part of his roommate, to stress about his erratic mother, only to finally have some sleep and even then been rudely woken up and been forced to eat, and then find out that his biggest secret was known by his worst enemy and because he confused his friends by rats!

It was a miracle that he didn't pass from anorexic to mental.

Hunter was right… he won't be going to Paris next week…

He'll leave this shithole as soon as he can, when he returns to his room he'll buy the first ticket.

He'll figure out some drama to the headmaster later.

He was so immerse in his thoughts and rant, he wasn't careful enough with the shoes he was wearing and slipped with the humid surface of a rock and fell hard to the ground.

"… Merde." He fell on his elbow.

The pain shook him back to reality and made him aware of the place he was.

"Was that…" He rolled on the grass and rested with his arms extended, his eyes fixated on the clouds above.

He couldn't stop blinking in confusion at hearing the distinctive sound of a guitar.

With some difficulty, and letting escape a small hiss of pain, he stood up and with hesitance he started to approach the place where those sounds were coming from.

… It came from one of the biggest walls of the ruins.

Sebastian's head was tilted slightly; it seemed that the mysterious guitarist was in the other side of the wall…

The melody was soothing and relaxing, with a rhythm that makes you want to close your eyes and curl under a dozen of warm blankets.

Maybe one of the girls of the Academy knew about the place too?

If I give up on you

I give up on me

If we find what's true

We will ever be

The French's eyes widen in surprise, and in a rush he placed his hand on top of his mouth to placate a gasp.

… Hunter?!

He could recognize that voice anywhere.

That was his roommate!

Even God himself

And the faith I knew

Shouldn't hold me back

Shouldn't keep me from you

Wow, he… he had no idea that he played guitar.

And he is good.

Well…

Taking advantage of the lack of company he rolled his eyes.

In what universe the perfect Hunter "Der Fuhrer" reincarnated Clarington isn't good at something?

Pulled by his limitless curiosity, and recognizing that this was a one in a million opportunity to know more about the stoic blond. With a bit insecure steps, he hid behind a tree and watched from a safe distance the silhouette of his captain.

Hunter was sitting in the grass, with his back supported by the remnants of the old wall, his blazer was gone and the sleeves of his shirt were doubled over, the beautiful guitar was in his lap, his expression was full in concentration, the grey eyes solely focused on the strings that resonated in the wide space.

Tease me

By holding out your hand

Sebastian rested his shoulder in the trunk, letting the tree to support his weight. His green eyes not even once dared to interrupt their stare, the ashy blond had their total attention. With each verse of the song, little by little, the senses of the brunette were being entranced by the song. His eyes couldn't stop staring at the fingers that moved rhythmically the strings of the guitar, his mind shut down the sounds of the crickets and the wind, all he could hear was the melody and the deep powerful voice.

He had always known that his captain had an entrancing and very appealing voice, there was no doubt that he could perform and entreating an audience… But…

Sebastian took a deep breath by his mouth, as if out of sudden he forgot to breath.

… This time something was different.

And then leave me

Or take me as I am

It was as if…

He was observing a new side, a closer shade of what Hunter Clarington really was.

The voice holds a different energy, it wasn't demanding, it wasn't intent to be liked by masses, it was… it was full of… pure and raw emotions.

It was peaceful and… honest.

… It was Hunter's.

And live our lives

Stigmatized

He couldn't control the small curve of his lips, a small smile forming involuntarily.

Damn… he was so screwed.

I can feel the blood

Rushing through my veins

When I hear your voice

Driving me insane

In a blink, his eyes quizzically looked at the attractive face of his roommate; there was… Out of sudden the voice turned more… rawer.

"… Hunter?" A fragile whisper, meant to not be heard, escaped from his dry lips.

Something wasn't right.

Hour after hour

Day after day

Every lonely night

That I sit and pray

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows…. Hunter… his captain sounded hurt.

Did someone break the inexistent heart of the swimmer? Or… ?

Tease me

By holding out your hand

And then leave me

Or take me as I am

And live our lives

Stigmatized

From afar, he saw how the older teen diverted his attention from the guitar and stared at the sky.

He saw the troubled dark turquoises, how the grey flecks on them looked like clouds at seconds of a strong storm.

Unconsciously he bit his lips and wasn't aware that his own green eyes softened.

Which dumb pétasse could be so stupid to leave Clarington like that?

He grimaced at his own hypocrisy.

Ok, he recognizes that Clarington and he don't share a good impression of the other.

And while it's a fact that Hunter Clarington is an official asshole with him.

He can accept that when it's about the rest of the world, the swimmer can be a decent human being.

We live our lives

On different sides

But we keep together

You and I

Still hidden behind the tree, he kept watching the humble performance.

He sighed while he crossed his arms in an attempt to stop the unnerving shivers, the voice of his roommate always had an annoying effect on him, it sends trembles to his spine and makes him feel clumsy.

He moved his head to the sides, trying to dissipate some specific thoughts, but, no matter how much he tried to stop thinking about it…

What could have possible happened to the stoic blond to sing such words with such honesty?

Yes, Hunter can be intimidating, devoid of emotions, arrogant, extenuatingly perfectionist and demanding. But he was respectful, smart, mature (maybe too much) and loyal.

Who could reject him?

Just live our lives

Stigmatized

He softly placed a hand on top of the trunk to balance his body, for a few seconds he felt lightheaded and incapable to support his weight.

What was wrong with him?

Why in the name of God is he thinking about Hunter Clarington in that way?

Why a guy singing some random song with an acoustic guitar was causing so much effect on him?

We'll live our lives

We'll take the punches everyday

He was huffing in annoyance when as if a splash of frozen water was being thrown over his head, a tremble traveled through his spine.

The lyric of the verse twisted hurtfully the knot trapped inside his chest.

We'll live our lives

I know we are gonna find a way

He eyed Hunter's face, the blond had his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes were colored of a deep blue, he was staring ahead, his gaze lost in some memory.

The song was beautiful, and the meaning behind it…

Obviously the blond wanted to help and protect someone important to him.

Huh.

Sebastian's eyes dropped and stared at the grass at his feet, licking his dry lips out of nervousness.

Even Hunter had someone to care about.

Feeling the annoying burn in the corner of his eyes he closed them.

I believe in you

Even if no one understands

The hand that was placed on the surface of the trunk, clenched until it formed a fist.

Yeah, I believe in you

And I don't really give a damn

Not being able anymore to control the shaky gasps, he sat behind the tree while hugging his legs, hiding his face between his knees.

He let his mind go numb, and just let his senses enjoy the reassurance that irradiates the deep soothing voice of his roommate.

We live our lives

On different sides

But we keep together

You and I

"How would it feel…?" The brunette supported his chin on one of his knees; freckled eyelids trying to blink away the burning sensation that didn't want to go away.

"…To be the one receiving that song?" Whispered softly to no one.

We live our lives

On different sides

From the corner of his eye, he watched the perfect profile of the ashy blond; he saw the determination and force that hold the voice. It was obvious that Hunter was the type of partner that was passionate.

Like a knight in shining armor.

He couldn't hide the small smile that bubbled out of sudden.

"I bet that it would feel nice."

Maybe it was the soothing melody, or the raspy voice, or the peacefulness of the place, but being in the ruins and hearing his roommate sing, brought to his mind the memory of that time he came here with him.

Of course he knew all along that Mr. Clarington was disapproving him as a roommate for his son, and he was ready to tell the headmaster that he had no problem with the change, but that the other would have to be the one that changes rooms; but he was surprised to see how hard Hunter tried to apologize in behave of his father. It seemed that Dalton finally found the perfect golden boy. So that's why he took the confused boy to the ruins, he almost sympathized with him, seeing how the military boy tried to follow whatever type of crap his father told him to do… he knows what it feels.

That's why he took him… Because he had the foolish thought that for once, for one miserable time, he could be the good guy for someone. At that time Clarington didn't know him, he wouldn't have judged him… he was the golden boy after all… So he… that's why… he wanted so badly to give him a good impression…

We are gonna live our lives

We are gonna live our lives

While hugging his legs and not caring about the dirt on his uniform, he decided to stay hidden for a bit longer, he'll leave (unnoticed) in a couple of minutes.

This side of his roommate wasn't meant to be discovered but…

… He was glad he did.

Stigmatized

XIV

He doesn't know why he did it. He didn't wait a moment to comprehend or analyze the reason behind it.

He just knew that he couldn't stand one more instant the looks that the others were giving him.

So he just escaped.

For the first time in his whole academic life, he ignored his perfect record of assistance and decided to skip the rest of his classes.

He drove far away; to the only place he knew that could bring him a sporadic peace, and after almost four months without playing it, he grabbed his most treasured object from a hidden spot in his Jeep.

It was ironic how much he loved that guitar and how little he played it.

When he was six and his cousin Jason eight, his cousin was hyperactive, and his mom had the great idea of buying him a guitar, so he could focus all that energy in one productive activity. He remembers how much Jason used to brag his abilities right after each class. But with the pass of time, like everything in the life of his cousin, Jason got bored really quickly of it, although probably the fact that his father scheduled his class of baseball with the guitar lessons probably had to do with it. And the music in the Clarington's household ended… Despise his age, he sensed that his father wouldn't be happy if he took his cousin's guitar and played with it, so right after he came from school, he tip toed to the basement and tried to remember what Jason used to do with the guitar, it wasn't long until his mother discovered him and that turned his Tuesday's and Thursday's afternoons in classes of guitar in the Academy of Music with Mr. Thompson. It wasn't an easy battle and it needed a lot of coaxing from part of Ivy Clarington, but when he was eight, and he felt secure enough to do it, he played it in Christmas in front of his grandma and… now she asks him to do it every time his family goes to the Hamptons.

The night before he went to the military academy, his mother gave him the most beautiful guitar he'd ever seen, apparently she asked for help to Mr. Thompson and both of them picked the guitar model that adapts perfectly to him.

He can't thank her enough for that gesture. That guitar helped him in moments where he thought that he couldn't achieve what his father expected from him.

To say that he had difficulties expressing what he truly felt was an understatement. It's not like he is afraid of being hurt or some chick flick excuse, he just was raised in a way that it was better and monumentally easier to keep appearances, he doesn't want others to know what he feels, that's personal, and it's more comfortable for him to just keep his facade, besides, when you show your emotions to another person, you are giving them a piece of information that they can control at their favor. To be able to control and hold your emotions it's a sign of power and strength. He was born with that ideal and he believes in it…

… Is just that, when he is with his guitar… he cannot be any other person but himself.

And that's… liberating.

And while he knows that playing some stupid song won't fix his problems… he knows that when he is playing… he drains them, and his mind goes blank and it's clear to think ahead and it's easier for him to think in a solution.

That's why he went to the ruins.

That's why he played.

Sebastian's condition, the fact that he was going to a place where he can get hurt, a place in where he can't help him or protect him…

… Was causing him a headache that had no end.

And just the serenity of nature could amend.

…

The only problem was…

… Why he sang that song?

He wasn't thinking when he went to the ruins and picked up his guitar.

He wasn't thinking when he started playing…

… He just did.

In that song was reflexed all he was keeping inside of him.

… And that was Sebastian.

From the beginning to the end… that song was all about that dumbass.

And when he ended… and realized what he just sang…and to whom…

… Between heavy breaths he almost ran 'til his jeep was parked.

And that's how he is right now.

Trapped inside his jeep, with a light shade of sweat on his face, almost panting and scared out of life.

He was staring ahead, his eyes immobile and lost.

What was happening to him?

Since he met that little obnoxious piece of work, he started to change and…it was terrifying.

Others might don't notice, it's not like he is acting differently but… He notices that things that didn't matter before, things that hold no meaning to him before… now they do.

The Hunter Clarington of a year ago wouldn't have given a rat's ass if his roommate had a sociopath as a mother, he probably would have cared if he ate, because that would have affected his stamina for the practices but other than that… no, he wouldn't have cared, he might have told the headmaster and let others deal with it, but nothing more.

… But now…

He is so involved.

He turned on the engine and let the air conditioner help with the heat inside his body.

Getting frustrated because the air wasn't helping, he grabbed the wheel with both hands until his knuckles were pale and let his head fall on top of it.

The sound of the horn alerted the birds that flew far away.

What is going on?

At last, when the creepy arrhythmia started to fade and was being replaced by self-pity, Hunter gave up and took a deep breath, then he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called the only person he trust enough to have the conversation he was starting to fear.

"Hunter? Son?"

When he heard that voice, he instantly felt better, he closed his eyes and started to take deep breaths, the grip on the wheel started to lose up, he knows his mom, but most important his mother knows him, so he forced his respiration to calm down before he worries her.

"Hi mom."

"Hunter! Oh, I'm so glad you called! How are you?" He almost grimaced when he heard the joy by the speaker… It has been so long since he last called her.

And here he was, calling her to mortify her with teenage bullshit.

Hopefully she'll forgive his lack of communication.

"I'm fine, thanks… and you?"

"Well, things are definitely different without you around the house, but I can deal with my son being all grown up and wanting to be independent and no calling his mother once in a while."

Yeah… totally forgiven.

"I know, I'm sorry mom…" He passed a distressed hand by his face. "I'll call twice a week, I promise."

He heard a scoff, he couldn't difference if it was because she didn't believe him or if she was mocking him.

"You better do, I raised you better than that. Now, how is everything? Last time I called, you answered me with monosyllables."

He repressed a groan by pressing his lips, he was already regretting having this conversation, he wasn't ready to talk.

"I just told you, everything is fine."

"Really?" He heard the sing-song voice and could easily picture the beautiful smile.

"Hn." He doesn't enjoy how uncomfortable he was feeling, that was the risk of talking with his mother, she knows him too much.

A cheerful laugh could be heard in the enclosed space, even without the speaker option on.

"Mom! Be serious!"

"I am being serious; you on the other hand are playing the game of the cat and the mouse with the woman that has known you before you even had a brain to think."

This time he passed his hand by his hair before he lied down again on the seat, couldn't hide his exasperated sigh.

"… How is dad?" He decided to change the subject. He felt as if someone was looking at him with a microscope.

"That's something that hasn't changed; he is as busy as usual. I think that in two weeks he'll travel and when he returns, he'll pass by you in Ohio and then the two of you can return home for the holidays."

He groaned annoyed at her words. "Do I have to?"

"He is your father Hunter, and he has all the rights in the world to spend time with you."

"But… he has to come?... here?" He squeezed his eyebrows together at imagining his father at Dalton again; he doesn't know what he would do if his father made comments about his roommate one more time, after all, it took a lot of convincing to stop his father from making him change rooms, he had to tell him that in Dalton it would have been bad seen, and that the directive board could interpret the actions as homophobic behavior, and that was forbiden. "Can't you try to dissuade him?"

"Dissuade him to what?"

"Mom!"

"Oh shush! You and your father are identical drops of water. You both are really stubborn; I can't promise that I'll convince him."

"…Just try." He dropped his head again on the wheel in defeat.

The image of his father at Dalton, it really wasn't helping with the headache.

"Hunter, son, what is troubling you?" The tone in the voice of his mother changed drastically, she was genuinely concern and the firm tone beneath it indicated that she was expecting just the truth from his part.

"…" He looked absently outside of the window, he couldn't tell her. Because he didn't know what he wanted to say, or what was happening… he closed his eyes and let her voice calm his frustrations.

"… Is something about the Regional Tournament? Is too stressing? I thought you said that your new group was really talented."

"I said competent, not talented." He answered automatically.

"Hunter!"

He grunted in annoyance at the admonishment, he isn't a child anymore. "No…" He licked his lips to decide what information to give. "It has nothing to do with the Warblers."

"Is it your swim team? I heard that the rivals for the next year have broken some records."

"No…" Shit, he'll have to make something up soon… Wait…"How do you know that?"

"A mother has her ways."

"…" It was better not to ask.

"Maybe it's a problem of the heart?"

Oh, great. With lack of gentleness he massaged the bridge of his nose, with a heavy sigh he answered. "I'm not dating any girl."

"I haven't said that you were dating a girl."

As if his blood was being replaced by Red Bull, he sat up straight. "What?"

"Nothing sweetheart…" She rushed her words under her breath. "… and how is Sebastian?"

"He is…" He stared at the ceiling for a couple of seconds. "Great."

He needs to get better at lying.

"Did something happen to him?"

"No…"

He really needs to get better at lying.

"Hunter you are my only son and I love you, but from the bottom of my heart I'm telling you that if you don't start using full sentences, I'm afraid that I'll never have grandchildren."

"Fine…" He took a monumental amount of air that came out in a mumble. "Something happened…"

"… Ok Hun, tell me what you can… and we'll figure out what we can do." She was coaxing him, she was trying to support him and help him…

He knows that…

But- is just… everything is just… he feels like…

FUCK.

He tightened the grip on his phone in frustration. "Did it ever occur to you that you want to help someone that doesn't want to be helped?"

"Wel-"

He knew he was rambling, he knew that he wasn't making any sense.

"Or even more precisely, when you want to help someone that doesn't want your help in specific?"

"I- "

But he couldn't stop.

That's why he hates emotions, because once you let them out…

"Like at all, he can accept the help from anyone, including a pair of guys that are barely teens and know nothing of life and even there is a tiny little Latin…"

"Hunter don't be disre- "

"And it's really infuriating because he is totally brainless and his mother plays with him like a puppet and that's just sick! And it's really unfair because…"

"Hunter!"

"I love him."

… Once you let them out… they don't want to go.

"… Oh Jesus… Hun tha- "

…

…

…

What?

What he just said?

He said what?!

He couldn't hear the voice that was literally next to his ear, he couldn't process the words, his entire mind and body shut down completely.

He couldn't think.

He couldn't breathe.

What the fuck was going on?

Did he just say that he loves Sebastian?

… Sebastian Smythe?!

And to his mother?!

He swallowed saliva and clenched his jaw with an alarming force, his eyes acquiring a steely glint.

He was trying so desperately to gain his composure.

And that desperation was what was crumbling his act.

"Never mind I was… I was… I..." Between swallows and lack of breathing, the sensation of dizziness was incrementing… Because he couldn't find the words to deny everything, and the why behind it was killing him. "I have to go."

"Hunter Joseph Clarington don't you dare to end this call!" The authority in that voice was absolute.

"…" And by reflex he froze the thump that was going to end the call.

It was better to end everything now.

"First of all I want to make sure of something… we are talking about Sebastian right?"

"…" What it was intended to came out like a snort, sounded more like a sob.

"Hun… sweetie?"

"I think I'm going to throw up." He wasn't lying. With quick but imprecise moves, he opened the door and went out, he took a couple of rapid steps until he realized that the world was spinning, so he placed a hand on his thigh and bent a little. Taking deep breaths and closing his eyes to stop the madness.

When he'll open his eyes again, everything would disappear.

This wasn't happening.

It didn't even make sense?!

"Oww son don't worry, it's ok, everything is going to be ok…"

Yeah, because by just saying it, all your problems are going to disappear!

He just said that he loves another man!

Oh God what is going to say his father?

He can already imagine the disaster.

He had to place a hand on top of his mouth at feeling the bile rise through his throat. "… No it's not."

"Yes. It. Is. Listen to me, there is nothing wrong in loving a person of your own gend- "

"I don't know of what are you talking about!" Captive in the beginnings of a panic attack, he refused to acknowledge that for the first time in his life, he was raising his voice at his mother. "I… I…I'm not- I… I told you I…" He sighed exasperated; no matter how much he tried to deny everything… his mouth didn't cooperate. "I can't talk about this right now." He finally whispered in defeat.

"Ok… don't hang up… in what you want to help Sebastian?"

Ok… ok… ok… the change of subject… he can… yeah, he can work with that.

"… I can't tell you." He mumbled in a voice that was an irrelevant copy of his normal voice.

"Hunter."

"I just…" He looked at the sky while he ran his hand through his messy hair. "He is about to make some horrible mistake and no matter how much I try… I can't make him change his mind."

He'll never know, but that defeated tone in his voice scared the woman at the other line, because it never occurred before, her son wasn't like that, since he was a little kid, her son never surrenders.

Huh.

Leave to his son to fall in love with such passion at the beginnings of his life.

Hunter has always been that way… All or nothing.

"How you tried to change his mind?"

"What do you mean?" He asked in confusion.

"I mean… did you approach him like you normally do?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "… I guess."

"Oh, maybe you should try talking to him."

"I did." Was his mother even listening to him?

"No you didn't, I'm sure you just demanded and gave him orders like some subordinate."

"I…" He started pacing around the trees. "You don't know how hard is to trespass that thick head of his."

"Oh believe me, I know."

"You aren't helping." He answered dryly.

"Why don't you invite him to dinner or to watch a movie or…"

"I'm not going to date him." The direction in which the conversation was heading was starting to exasperate him.

Why women immediately assume that real life is like the movies?

"Well, you are leaving me without choices." Ivy Clarington admonished with exasperation.

"You know what mom? I have to go, the signal here is…" It was pointless. The whole conversation was pointless.

"Approach him in a moment where he is distracted, when he is watching T.V for example, and you can bring him an ice cream or some snack that he enjoys… Then you can give him your opinion of his problem like an advice…not an order… an advice." She was trying to soothe him, her words measured carefully.

"… I told you, I did that."

"Oh, really?" She asked ironically before she sighed, he can imagine her brushing her long curls behind her ear. "Hun, I've known you for eighteen years, I'm sure that you instead of bring him a snack, you forced him to eat, and instead of advising him you bribed him."

"…" Well, who would know? Mother knows best.

"Hunter you have to stop acting like that, and more with the person that you lov.."

"Don't even say it!" He interrupted her by reflex. Raising his voice and stopping abruptly his pace.

"Ok… I won't… Hun, when you were rambling, I heard something about his mom… what is going on?"

His stormed turquoises looked down at the grass. With heaviness, he let his back rest against a tree. "… I can't really say it." His voice was barely a raspy whisper.

"Hunter."

"Mom! It's not my decision! I already screw everything by finding out, and now I can't make things worse!"

His body was a burning supernova, his mind was drained, but his body felt like a furnace, his blood boiling in his veins and the tension always present on his shoulders. And his reflexes and senses were in alert, already prepared to refute any assumption than his mother fantasied.

"Ok I get it… but it's really scaring me. You promise me that if things get out of control or are illegal issues in the middle you'll contact me instantly."

He let her words sink… he knew she was right.

He knows nothing of Sebastian's mother other than the fact that her father has more money than God.

And that he angered her.

He wasn't stupid, if he can't figure out a way to make Sebastian stay… he'll tell her.

But first, he'll try on his own.

Yesterday it felt amazing to make him eat.

He did it.

It wasn't Jeff or Nicholas or Thad…

Him.

"Hunter? Son?"

Blinking rapidly he realized that he was daydreaming.

And his mind was in a rush trying to remember what she was expecting him to answer.

"… Yes."

God, he was so screwed.

Is this how things are going to be now?

Is he going to turn into a pathetic copy of what he used to be?

"I know you, you are my son, I know you tend to put a weight on your shoulders that is too heavy and wasn't meant for you… You are not an adult yet Hunter, let me take care of you."

"…"

Well, you can start by disappearing what I'm feeling.

"And listen to me, my love for you will still be infinite no matter the gender of the person you choose to love… As long as that person loves you, then you have my blessing."

He would be lying if he didn't admit that her words lifted a big part of the weigh on his shoulders but…

He slipped down until he sat on the grass.

… It wasn't enough.

"… Thanks, but don't get your hopes up."

It wasn't enough because…

"Why you say that?"

… at end, the only opinion that mattered was Sebastian's and… he'll make sure that whatever sickening thing he is feeling right now, doesn't see the light of the day.

"… Because every single time that I try to talk to him… all I do… is to hurt him."

It was painful to admit it, but it was true.

All he's ever done is hurt him.

"I'm sure you are being too hard on your-"

"No I'm not!" When he stood up, he scratched his back with the trunk, but he barely noticed the pain. He was too immersed in the conversation. It was time for his mother to understand that NOTHING is going to ever happen between Sebastian and himself. "It's true! When we are in the same room I can actually feel his hate towards me."

"… Why would he hat- "

"Because I treated him like shit. And I found out that all the times that we fought, there is a high chance that I could have made him starve himself."

"What?!"

Shit, he needs to stop talking when he is frustrated.

"… Nothing."

"Nothing? That's not nothing?! What happened?! And if you dare to say that you can't tell me…"

"…He has some history with anorexia." With his head bowed down, he started to return to where his jeep was parked.

"Oh my- … is he ok?!"

"Yes, he is rehabilitated; he went to a clinic in France and everything."

"Is that why you are angry with his mother?"

Sometimes he really hates how smart his mother is.

"…She is a monster."

"Hunter."

"She really is!"

"Hunter enough! That's his mother and you should respect her. How would you feel is someone describes an important person to you as a monster? And believe me, there are hundreds of young men calling your father worse things than that."

"… But mom…" He huffed upset.

"Remember that he is from a different culture."

"That doesn't mean…"

"It means everything, try to understand sweetie… From the world you come from its ok to awake at an early hour a weekend, it's ok to have arranged marriages, its ok to travel constantly because of the profession of your father. It never bothered you, because everywhere we went there were people like you… Now you are the one that it's in a different society, you are the one that should adapt."

He stopped and in a voice full of disbelief he asked ironically at his mother. "Excuse me mom, but in what society anorexia is acceptable?"

"In none, but the way a family deals with it differs… Hunter you know how closed minded your father can be… that doesn't make him a bad person… it was the way he was raised… I tried to raise you differently and I was afraid that it didn't work but… The point is… that sometimes we are the consequences of the world we live in, nothing more, and it's fruitless to judge a person… We just have to learn to accept different ideas."

"I'm not going to accept how that woman…" His voice started to sound much likely a low growl.

"Maybe that woman was raised in a world where it was ok to have that sickness, and she didn't realize that it was wrong to trespass it to her son… we don't know… all you need to know is that every time that you spent your time judging her, you are wasting time and getting farther from Sebastian, so stop being an idiot and start looking for ways to get closer to him… that way you can help him."

He can't argue when his mother starts to make sense.

"… He doesn't want my help." With more force than necessary, he closed the door of the car.

How many times he has to humiliate his pride and admit that he fell for someone that prefers to sleep with a dead body instead of him.

Not like he ever thought of sleeping with Sebastian.

… Oh shit.

"He doesn't need to want your help; all he needs is to know that you are there for him. Nobody in this world wants to be alone Hunter, sooner or later we'll need another person, and all Sebastian needs to know is that for when that moment comes, you'll be there for him. Make him realize that, approach him the way I told you, don't order him, don't act as if you are the right answer… just be yourself and let him know that you care… Just that."

Playing with the keys at his hand, he heard the words and understood what his mother was saying.

So what if he'll never confess or admit out loud what it's consummating him?

So what if it doesn't make sense?

What matters is to keep his roommate safe.

And he'll do anything in his power and more to protect him.

"… Thanks mom."

"I'll always help you in everything I can and more… I love you."

Sighing with more easiness, he let the corner of his mouth to form a tiny resemblance of a smile. "… Me too."

"Please take care…and stop wrinkling your face right now, you're going to get wrinkles before you are twenty."

"Your wrinkle look, the one you wear when something doesn't go according to your plan, it was baptized after the wrinkle between your eyebrows."

At remembering those words, this time he definitely smiled.

"…I will."

"And Hun?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you fell in love with someone that will give me gorgeous grandchildren."

"That's not- it doesn't even-… bye!"

Denying with his head in disbelief, he turned on the engine.

Destination?... Dalton Academy.

XV

Approaching steps could be heard before the doors were opened in an intrepid way, a tall young man emerging from them, wearing the navy blazer representative of the institution and his brunette hair ruffled in odd directions.

"Mr. Hoffman, please listen to me for a couple of seconds, whatever you heard about me… it might be true but, I highly believe that it was exaggerated." Sebastian Smythe crossed the large office, his long steps ending when he reached the opulent bronze desk of the headmaster that was with his eyebrows raised; astonished by seeing so abruptly the foreign student, the adult can't place a time he saw the brunette disheveled or even flushed… was that a branch in his hair?

It was obvious that the lacrosse player came in a rush, his unsteady breathing and the fact that he placed both hands on the desk, supporting his upper weight on it, were signs of his exaltation.

Sebastian entered with his eyes fixated on the old man wearing a grey suit, he was completely determinate to make a stand and defend himself. But by simple inertia, his eyes looked at his right side seeing no other than…

"… What is he doing here?" He even didn't try to hide his antipathy at seeing the tall frame of his roommate siting in one of the elegant chairs in front of the desk. His green jades narrowed while they studied the always composed and stoic ashy blond, that had his arms crossed and was eyeing him from the corner of his eye. His gaze turned incandescent when he recognized annoyance in the deep blue pools.

Behind thick old-fashioned glasses, the seventy two years old adult exchanged his gaze between the biggest potentials and at the same time, the biggest cause of an ulcer in all his years working at Dalton.

Knowing that prolonging the tension was counterproductive, he faked a cough to catch the attention and end the battle of glares. "Young Sebastian, please have a seat." He motioned the teen the other empty chair at his side, his tone was affable towards the brunette, despite the interruption, he is a patient and likable person, besides; he has a soft spot for the promising students. "I was just talking with Mr. Clarington abo-…"

Although, all his good-natured intentions were ignored.

Sebastian didn't just ignore the offer and remained standing, but crossed his arms and kept looking from above the captain of the Warblers. "What are you doing here? What it's goin…?" He trailed off before his eyes widened in realization, breaking his threatening facade. "Oh, I see, you were complotting against me!"

With a rapid move, he broke his vibrant green gaze towards the blond and centered it in the man in front of him.

"Mr. Hoffman I swear that whatever he said it's not exactly how things happened…" Once again, with a soft thud the tall brunette placed his hands on the desk. "Yes, I threw the clock, and yes it landed on his head while he was asleep…" Almost muttered in a whispered tone the Parisian; wanting to rest importance to the details, without crumbling the act of looking (faking) apologetic.

"But I didn't mean it! You have to hear the atrocious sound that his clock does! I mean, now I understand why he always looks so constipated." With his last words, the brunette took a step back and pointed with his head the teen at his side.

Hunter was rolling his eyes in disbelief when his mind processed what his roommate just said.

"Excuse me?!" Incredulous of what he just heard, he stood up.

Just a minute ago, he was ending a conversation with the headmaster, trying to shut his mind in thinking (sulking) about what just happened while calling his mother.

Well, it seems that his problems will be solved sooner than he thought, because there is no way that he will still keep feeling that sickening annoying thing every time he sees the Parisian, after seeing the dumbass being, well… himself.

From the moment he entered the office, all his mind could think was… Seriously? Him?

Obviously, near those ruins is a plating of drugs and he inhaled them, and that's the reason why he said those stupid things to his mother.

Because it doesn't make a damn sense that he can possibly hold strong feelings towards someone that annoys the last nerve of his body.

Sebastian will always be a childish spoiled little brat with no filter whatsoever.

"Mr. Smythe, Mr. Clarington plea- " Mr. Hoffman raised his hands in a sign to placate the strong defiant tempers.

He instantly regretted it though, at catching the attention and piercing gaze of Clarington on himself.

"You didn't hear what he just said?!" How can Sebastian always do whatever he wants?! "And what it's your problem?!" With a snap, he returned his attention to the green eyed brunette.

"Yes I heard, and I'm sure that Mr. Smythe wants to apolo…" Still trying to rationalize with the teens, the adult didn't stop his attempt to dialogue.

"Of course not!" Said Sebastian with a snort. " In fact, he is the one that should apologize; after all, it was because of his cat that I slept in another bed!"

"Wha- …?" The adult's eyes almost popped out of his glasses.

"For the billionth time, Don't. Let. The. Door. Open." Clarington's voice held a threatening resemblance to a growl. And which each word he closed the distance with the never- backing- down brunette.

He was frustrated and at the merge of a collapse.

"It's my room and I can do whatev- …" If Hunter's words reassembled a growl, Sebastian's reassembled a hostile hiss.

Hunter Clarington will regret using him to drain his frustrations because his white picket fence syndrome was ruined by some girl.

"Oh please, if it wasn't for me you would've died of hypothermia at the beginnings of the month!" The dark turquoises of the blond were so close of the brunette, that they could easily distinguish the golden flecks that started to appear little by little in the green orbs at mere centimeters.

Green orbs that glinted with dark humor. "Tell me one thing Clarington, does your ego matches your dick? Because if that's the case; then you can beat the man with a scrotum of 132 pounds."

The defiance was clear and wide open.

Hunter answered it with a dark chuckle. "You wish to- …"

"Oh good Lord! Enough both of you!" Expressed astonished and utterly horrified the adult, that had to rise to catch the attention of the teens.

"Tu me fais chier…"

"I said enough Sebastian!"

"…"

"…" The brunette pressed his lips in a thin line and crossed his arms before he collapsed unceremoniously in a chair, refusing to meet his eyes with anyone in the room.

"… Jesus Christ." while removing his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose, the adult mumbled in disbelief.

Those kids were going to be the death of him.

"Mr. Clarington, where do you think you are going?" He asked with a stern tone to the tall young man that was with his hand in the doorknob.

"To the library, you said that I could leave."

"That was before you were participant of a conversation that made me feel pity for your generation." Each word distilled the truth in its purest form.

"Now sit, I might not be as intimidating to you as a military superior, but I still can expulse you and stain your record file for the rest of your life."

"…" Without any response, with rapid and rigid moves, the eighteen young man sat, just as his roommate, without making any eye contact.

The adult rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed while taking a seat again. "Now, Mr. Smythe, before you graced us with your presence, I was talking with Mr. Clarington about the reason behind his absence in the majority of the classes of today… And I called you for the same reasons."

"…Oh." Green jades blinked blanky at the adult.

"Yes, oh indeed. But now that you mentioned, I usually don't take seriously the rumors that rotate around both of you, but today there was this particular rumor about both of you fighting in your dorm past curfew… And now that I can see Mr. Clarington from a close distance… it seems that he is injured." The headmaster commented while adjusting his glasses in an attempt to look better at said teen.

And said teen was watching from the corner of his eye the faint color that started to appear in the freckled cheeks of his companion. "Wait, what it's the term for this situation?..." Hunter was using the same cynical tone that he got accustomed to thanks to Sebastian. "Oh I remember it now!" He tilted his head in a mocking condescending way. "…Pauvre con."

"… Ne joue pas avec moi." With a thick accent the brunette hissed a rapid answer.

"Silence!" The white haired adult grabbed the first object that his hand could grab, and it turned out that he struck the desk with the stapler. "… I'm too old for this." He muttered under his breath while he tried to loosen his tie. "If you keep this attitude I'll remove your privileges as captains!" He warned while pointing both teens.

He sighed exhausted at noticing how he didn't intimidate one bit the younger men.

"… privileges?" The ashy blond asked after a seconds of silence.

"Yeah…" The headmaster rested it importance with a wave of his hand. "The captains have some privileges that encourage the hard work; they basically consist in a preferred parking place… I told Mr. Smythe to inform you your first week." The last statement sounded more like a question.

"Are you kidding me?!" Now, definitely the voice of the captain lowered several ranges. The gray flecks of his eyes completely gone, leaving the electric blue to glare alone at the brunette.

"You see, I thought that I could give it to who I preferred."

Hunter was at this of punching that smartass smile.

Mr. Hoffman passed the phase of concern to simply don't care anymore.

Those two were a lost cause.

"Ok, as it seems that you simply don't hold any respect towards me whatsoever, I'm ending this meeting as soon as possible." He coughed a few times to gain some time. "Did you or you didn't fight last night past curfew?"

"…" Hunter dropped his eyes.

"…" And Sebastian diverted his gaze towards the scarlet velvet curtain.

Oh, now they decide to shut up.

"Let me rephrase, is it true that smashing sounds could be heard in the hallway and they were coming from your room?" He interlaced his hands and looked intently at the ashy blond, if one of those two was going to collaborate; it was going to be Clarington.

"…" Sebastian being his usual obstinate self, refused to even separate his gaze from the pretentious curtain. "Is everything in this school supposed to be red or blue?"

And while Hunter's stubbornness had nothing to envy Sebastian's, Hunter's code of values didn't let him ignore or disrespect a superior for much longer. "… Yes sir." He grumbled before eventually relenting.

"Did you fight?" Inquired one more time the headmaster.

"…"

"… Not exactly." Hunter's demeanor and posture were correct and secure; his voice stoic and deprived of any trace of uncertainty. Although, if you looked closely, you could see how he was playing with his hands.

Mr. Hoffman noticed how well behaved and composed seemed the military young man, so he decided to tempt his faith with whom he is starting to assume that initiated everything. "Mr. Smythe, did you cause that bump in Mr. Clarington's head?"

Said teen blinked rapidly, like waking up of some thought. "… No." He answered with fake indifference and a shrug.

"No?" Inquired the older man; eyebrow raised.

"The clock did." The green eyed teen muttered with his eyes fixated in the curtain and his arms crossed tightly around himself.

"And let me guess… you threw it?"

Before answering, the brunette licked his lips and affirmed with an almost imperceptible nod. "… Yes, but it was by accident!" He rushed immediately.

From his forgotten spot, Hunter almost felt bad for his roommate… almost.

It was true, he knows that when he woke up by a horrendous pain in his forehead, his roommate wasn't seeing where the clock was going to land, and honestly, he didn't understand the big deal of the situation.

And maybe Sebastian didn't deserve this specific admonishment… but he deserved a lot that he never got.

It was time for the brunette to start being responsible of his actions.

And most important… with the headmaster angry with him, Sebastian would never find a way to leave Dalton next week.

It seems that finally things were working on his favor.

"…Of course." Answered the older man unimpressed. "Mr. Smythe, I'm sure that you most than anyone in this institution, is more than familiarized with the policy against any type of aggression in the walls of Dalton." Long gone was the likeable Mr. Hoffman.

"…" Sebastian looked at the man for an instant, before he dropped his gaze again.

Wait…

Hunter's senses alarmed, something wasn't right.

"Sir-"

"Mr. Clarington, please stay out of this." Cut abruptly the adult, not even daring to look at him, his eyes were fixated in the other teen.

"And despite the vote of faith that the board gave to you last year. Here we take severe procedures against the ones that disrespect these policies." Mr. Hoffman's voice was devoid of any affection that it usually shows while talking with him.

Sebastian's chest rose imperceptibly when he inhaled deeply. "… Th-" He had to stop when he remembered that a person can't talk while biting his lips. "… This isn't like last year." He whispered quietly.

This definitely wasn't right.

Hunter knows how it affects the brunette when someone brings to light the events of last year.

And immediately, all his superficial anger towards his roommate evaporated and was replaced by a deepest and strongest sensation of protection.

He can be the headmaster, but that doesn't give him the right to treat Sebastian like that.

"In that you are right, and you want to know why? Because this time I'm going to actually do something, it's time for you to be responsible of your actions Sebastian, this is for your own good." The adult opened a drawer and took from it some documents.

From where he was sitting, Hunter could read the title of the papers.

"Sir?"

"Not now Clarington." "Sebastian, I'll suspend you for a week, and when you'll come back, your hours with Dr. Johnson will return..." With rapid movements, the adult started to fill the papers for a suspension.

"What? That's bullsh-…" Bewildered, the brunette rose up again.

"… For a month." The adult ended the sentence.

"…" And also ended before it began; the rant of the Parisian; who just remembered with whom he is in the office.

Mr. Hoffman just mentioned his sessions with the shrink of the school in front of Hunter Clarington.

Like. he. wasn't. humiliated. enough.

He tried to maintain his composure… he really did.

… And it was so damn hard.

Sebastian's eyes turned hollow, unblinking, he forced a swallow and pressed his thin lips together, refusing to lose control; he retained his bottom lip with his teeth.

He didn't need to turn his head; he could feel the piercing stare at his side, irking him in levels that caused involuntary and almost unnoticeable shudders in his spine.

There were a couple of uncomfortable instants, in which the only sound that could be heard was the firm movements of the pen in the hands of the older man.

The tall silhouette, his position, with his arms crossed and troubled defiant stare, only increased the distress and tension in the office.

Hunter couldn't stand it.

He was helpless when he sensed any trace of melancholy in the Parisian nuisance.

"Mr. Hoffman?... with all respect, can I say something?" Although it was a question, there was no hesitation or doubt in the handsome features of the blond, who rose slowly and took a step closer to the desk.

Sebastian can't be suspended.

He needed to stay in Dalton.

The moment that Sebastian leaves, he' knows that he'll lose him.

And if he hasn't figured out yet what to do with his mischievous little menace... He is alarmingly clueless of what he'll do without him.

"No, you can't." The gray haired man continued filling the documents, ignoring the swimmer.

Who maintained his stare unwavering. "If I remember correctly, in the code of the academy it's stipulated that for a severe infraction that causes a suspension or an expulsion it's required the opinion of the entire board."

With each word, Sebastian frowned slightly intrigued.

At what was playing now the golden boy?

Meanwhile, Mr. Hoffman sighed tiredly, it seemed that he won't be able to solve this situation any sooner. "Yes Mr. Clarington you are correct, but it's also stipulated that with the right amount of proof the headmaster can suspend a student."

The borderline condescending tone only filled the motivation and determination in the blond.

"And for the right amount of proof it's necessary a witness… and his signature in the report that goes to the board." God bless his memory, he knew that reading that code was going to be helpful.

"And your point is?" The adult asked more confused than curious. "Don't worry Mr. Clarington, I will tell Alice to do the report and she'll call you to sign it."

This was it.

With a powerful inhalation he took a last step and mimicked the position in which minutes ago was his roommate.

But he knew that this time the reaction will be different.

"My point is that I won't sign it." His tone was absolute.

"Excuse me?"

"…" With a broken shudder, bruised swollen lips separated slightly; in complete silence and with uncertainty, the brunette dared to look at his side. With his hands on top of the desk, and his upper body inclined towards the headmaster, Hunter Clarington was intimidating the adult in not a subtle way. "… What is happening?"

"I won't sign any document." When the blue eyed teen lowered his body with his elbows, his shoulders looked even broader.

"Mr. Clarington, at what are you playing?" It seemed that Sebastian and Mr. Hoffman were sharing the same line of thought.

"Nothing."

"You have a bump in your forehead, and the students said that last night you were fighting."

"And none of them will sign that report, I can guarantee you that." Hunter pointed out, a slight slyness to his smile.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No Sir, I'm just informing you."

At hearing those words, Sebastian's jades rolled around so far they almost went back into his head.

"Let me see if I understood correctly… are you protecting… him?" The older man knew that for when he returned home, he'll need a powerful injection to eradicate his migraine. "By lying in my face?"

"…" Sebastian remained silent for the first time in his life. What was happening was beyond his comprehension.

"I'm not- …"

"Yes you are. All in this room, hell, all in this school know that Mr. Smythe hit you."

"By accident!" The brunette interrupted briefly, enough with the silence; he was tired of repeating over and over his innocence.

"So what if instead of suspending just Mr. Smythe I suspend you too for disrespect towards an authority?" With a severe expression in his features, the man grabbed another series of documents from the drawer, they were for another suspension.

"…"

"…"

To the total horror of the foreign young man, his roommate didn't even flinch or stepped back, he kept that unnerving gaze towards the old man.

It was obvious that the brain was optional for Clarington, why would he pick the worst moments to have a hero complex?!

Hunter Clarington might be the golden boy of Dalton but that doesn't mean that he has to defend him?!

He doesn't want his pity!

"Well, if that's the case…" The headmaster shrugged and started to fill the new papers.

"Oh for the love of…" Sebastian had enough. "Say something! Are you just going to stand there?!..."

Hunter's posture and gaze broke from the headmaster out of shock. He was so focused in his goal of persuasion (intimidation) that he forgot about his companion. His eyes widened slightly at feeling a small bump in his shoulder, Sebastian had rushed to the desk and was by his side. From the corner of his eye, he saw the freckled profile of his roommate with an almost imperceptible frown.

"Mr. Hoffman that won't be necessa- …"

Hunter's confused frown softened at hearing how the brunette lost control of his accent and was stumbling in his words.

To the headmaster the image wasn't as appealing as for Clarington.

He just wanted a normal day, away from those two… was that so much to ask?

"And now you are the one defending him…" With his dark eyes, he studied both young men, Clarington always the portrait of excellence, with the perfect record of assistance (until today), responsible, mature, confident, intriguing, elusive, stoic and imperturbable, was now putting his precious record file at risk because he was defending someone else… but not just any other student, but Sebastian Smythe… Who is undeniable clever, magnetic, persuasive, and charismatic but also it wasn't a lie that he was known for lacking empathy towards the rest of the human race…

… But here they are.

Defending each other.

Were they pranking him?

He knows that Sebastian would feel no remorse by pranking him, but it wasn't in Clarington's nature to behave in such childish way.

So why would the captain of the Warblers defend…?

Mr. Hoffman folded his hands together, pressing them against his mouth to prevent any sound from it.

"…Unbelievable." He thought out loud.

Who would have known?

That those two… those two….

Hunter and Sebastian, both of them turned their heads slowly to look at each other.

"…"

"…"

Sebastian's expression of exasperation countered Hunter's confused one.

The headmaster's gaze kept exchanging from the brunette to the blond, with a knowing glint and an amused smirk.

Just when he decided that he'll leave those two figure it out on their own, he spoke one more time.

"You know what? I'm too old and I have a lot of other things to do with my time, than just sitting here lecturing how to behave in society."

"…"

"…"

Two pair of incredulous eyes stared in confusion how the older man took the documents and put them back inside the drawer.

"You can leave."

Hunter forced a swallow trying to maintain his mask. He had the annoying sensation that he was being made fun at.

But all that mattered was that Sebastian wasn't going to be suspended. And that their behavior was miraculously going to be forgiven.

So in gratitude, he made a small reverence with his head while crossing his hands behind his back. "Good bye Mr. Hoffman, thank you for your time and please excuse us." He turned on his heels fast, and at the exact moment that his back was towards his companions his mask slipped and his eyebrows furrowed.

He needed to leave; he almost got suspended because he couldn't control his impulses to help his moronic roommate.

…Oh God.

He just realized how Sebastian wound his way into him.

Feeling that nauseating and disgusting bile rise up again; he lost control of his grip in the doorknob and closed the door with a strenuous sound.

Leaving a pair of vibrant green pools looking at the door with a confused stare.

"… I don't understand." Murmured the brunette, turning his head and looking ahead, directly at the headmaster. "… Am I suspended or not?"

Mr. Hoffman's mouth twitched, it was hard to stay angry at the brunette when he tilted his head like that. "No Sebastian, you are not."

"…Oh" A couple of blinks later... "Then bye." Now it was the turn of the foreign to turn on his heels.

The old man was already regretting was he was about to do but…

"Sebastian… could you give me a minute?"

"Merde." The lacrosse player mumbled under his breath. So close. With a slight grimace he approached one more time the desk, this time he decided to keep his distance and stay behind one of the chairs.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"I guess." He shrugged one shoulder.

"Why are you so hard with him?"

There were a couple of silent seconds in which the Parisian diverted his gaze towards the corners in the room. "Him?"

"Mr. Clarington, I can't help but notice how you are always so defensive with him."

The observant warm eyes of the adult noticed how at the mere mention of the name, Sebastian's nonchalant posture drastically changed, the tension on his shoulders and the way he crossed his arms defensively. "It isn't a special treatment; I'm that charming with everyone."

"We both know you are not… Now, when we received your file from your other schools, it was reflected how smart and outstanding you are, and you proved to be an excellent addition to Dalton…It also required a periodic consult with our psychologist… I've always respected and understood the confidentiality between a patient and a doctor, and while Dr. Johnson extended the periods of the appointments, and I'm not going to suspend you… I still want you to see him weekly… is that alright?"

Was he really going to ask him that?

If he is alright?

The last few hours have been a phenomenal cosmic joke.

"…" Sebastian didn't answer; he maintained his stare in the curtain.

"This place could look a thousand times better without that hideous curtain."

"I'm going to tell your father and…"

With just the word "father" with a harsh shudder the teen reacted.

"No!..." He snapped breathless. "Please don't, I will, I'll see him five times a day if you want, but don't-…" Freckled eyelids closed with remorse, their owner needing several seconds to gain the strength to open them again. "…don´t bother my father with this."

The headmaster was left speechless at seeing and hearing the shallow breathing. What was occurring with this boy?

"Sebastian I have t- …"

"Please don't." Snapped in distress the brunette; fighting to ease gradually his breathing. "I will… I just said it, I'll do it."

Mr. Hoffman cocked his head inquisitively. "… Ok son, I believe you, but I have to."

"Why?..." And the tone, with the eyes and the face… it all stabbed as a whole the older man's heart.

Sebastian started to breath by his parted lips; he licked them trying to keep appearances. His mind was thinking fast in a way to avoid a catastrophe. "What if… If I talk to Dr. Johnson and ask him if it is strictly necessary? If he says yes, I'll tell you and then you can call my father."

It almost made him laugh bitterly the fact that his hopeful demeanor wasn't being faked, if the old man wasn't going to cede, he'll have to prepare himself to beg.

"… Alright, if you think that it's more comfortable for you…" The older man trailed off while he couldn't hide his fond look towards the boy; there was something that made him worry for him. "But you have to promise me that you will."

"I will." The brunette even nodded, his hazelnut locks moving at the same time of his head.

Applying the same tactic as his roommate, the brunette took long steps and was determinate to leave that office as soon as possible.

When his hand was at the doorknob, the deep voice of the older man resonated through the dark walls.

"Before you go… one more thing… did you know that here in Dalton we arrange the distribution of the students based in your personality profiles?"

Still refusing to leave the doorknob, the brunette just turned his head. "… What do you mean?"

"I mean that Mr. Clarington was the best choice for you as your roommate."

Today he was going to be declared mental.

A spontaneous laugh erupted from the bottom of his chest.

What he just said?... A phenomenal cosmic joke.

Only when the laughs turned into involuntary chuckles was that he could recover his breath to speak. "Mr. Hoffman, you don't have to invent such a crap… seriously… don't fool yourself, what you just saw it was just an act, Clarington isn't as respectful and well behaved as he is in front of you, he just acts nice with me because you are here, he doesn't care about me, he is a closed minded, manipulative, army brat."

"Well, all I'm going to say, is that army brat just risked his ass to save you from a suspension."

"…"

"To me… it seems that he actually cares." Said the headmaster with a knowing little smile; which ironically, told nothing to the French.

XVI

The normally soothing and calmly sound of the water falling, kept echoing in the enclosed space in a rhythmically pace.

Incandescent jades were staring blankly at the wall, not minding the steam that troubled their vision.

"That Hunter might care about you? That all this time he had his assumptions, his theories but… only when he heard us, he put the pieces together?"

At hearing the voice above the tapping sound, the jades closed frustrated, and suddenly, a pale hand turned the handle in the wall as the tempo of the water falling increased alarmingly.

"To me… it seems that he actually cares."

Thin lips parted to let a resigned sigh escape.

With heaviness, a slim body let itself fall against a wall. The lack of reaction at feeling the clash of temperatures between the ceramic and freckled skin were a sign of the numbness trapped in the teenage boy; that had his mind locked in other thoughts.

Why?

Why not just once, but two times somebody told him today those words?

That Hunter Clarington cared about him.

Hunter. Clarington.

His roommate.

The same cynical and judgmental douchebag that treats him as if he were a waste of air. And while he admits that he treats equally, if not worse, the other, that doesn't explain what's happening.

Firstly, he acts all weird and wants him to eat, he even goes to the point of forcing him; and then, he almost gets suspended trying to defend him.

The captain of the Warblers has always been the perfect wonder boy, and to even imagine that he almost ruined his perfect reputation because of him, that was beyond any logical explanation.

And what was bloody infuriating, was that everybody (just Nick and the headmaster) seemed to act as if it was the most common thing in the world. As if they all knew why that thick stone man acted that way.

Is the first time in his life that he feels ignorant of something, and he is not enjoying the feeling on single bit.

And all because of Hunter Clarington.

With his expression turned into a small scowl he thumped his head against the ceramic patterns.

"Ouch."

Taking advantage of the solitude of the bathroom, he let go his frustration in a miniature whine.

You know what? He won't waste more neurons in the matter.

He decided with renewed determination while rubbing the back of his head, in the process humid locks of hair stood in wild directions.

It holds no importance to him.

No sir.

He turned off the water coming from the shower and with a flippant move he slides the curtain.

Sooner or later the swimmer will have to leave him alone.

Ignoring the infinite drops of water clinging and traveling through his body, the ones situated in his eternal legs didn't roam for long and died hastily, while the drops located in the curve of his spine did a tortuously slow path over a gathering of freckles and reunited at the end of the elegant back. Overlooking the remnants of steam and the coldness of the floor, Sebastian grabbed some comfortable and overused clothes and put them lethargically, humming some random song without paying really attention to it.

He stood in front of the sink and with the sleeve of his sweater he cleared the steam gathered in the mirror, letting him distinguish his reflection.

Effervescent jades stared back at him unwavering, he noticed the purple-ish color around them, the lack of life in his pale skin, making stand the little freckles… those hideous and revolting little points that are everywhere….

Impulsively, he splashed water in his face and looked one more time at the mirror.

The miniature drops of water camouflaged the small constellations gathered in his cheekbones and eyelids.

He hates them… so damn much.

He was so immersed in his thoughts around his roommate that he forgot his tactic about masking those imperfections… as his mother calls them.

Forcing himself to stop that line of thought, he dropped his gaze and started to brush his teeth, refusing to look again in front of him.

He started to hum that song once more, even more when he noticed how soothing it was for him.

It wasn't until he finished that he realized that it was the same song that Hunter sang on the ruins.

It was that not even his subconscious was going to leave him stay away from him?!

Grumbling some incoherent Frenglish insults under his breath he opened with one swift move the door.

Facing no other than…

… yeah, Hunter Clarington.

From the entrance of the bathroom he stared unforgivingly at the ashy blond that immediately, as a reflex, looked at the source of the sound.

If he thought that he had marks under his eyes, he was wrong, because the dark circles around those fatigued turquoises made his own marks pale in comparison.

His gaze trailed and immediately focused in the infamous sleeping bag.

"To me… it seems that he actually cares."

Tomorrow he'll give Nick a hell of a day for staying inside his head.

"Shut up." He hissed to himself while he marched with hasty steps towards… the deathly glint in his eyes subsided at realizing that his bed was still a stained smelly mattress.

The brunette stood between the beds, he knew exactly where he could sleep tonight and he had all the intentions to do so but…

His lips formed unconsciously an imperceptibly pout.

… It was much easier to reclaim the clean bed without his roommate in the room.

"I haven't said anything… And you can sleep in my bed." Sebastian was startled by the scratchy reply at his back.

The brunette looked from above his shoulder, trying to look nonchalant, and from the corner of his eye he saw the older teen concentrated in accommodating the sleeping bag.

Sebastian almost rolls his eyes.

What an idiot.

Is he going to act that way every night?

He doesn't want the attention, the concern is not appreciated and the pity it's definitely not welcome.

It means a rat's ass to him if it is the first time in a long time that someone does something as trivial as to simply show caring towards him.

It's not important.

It really isn't.

With a puff of air the humid strands of hair moved very slightly.

Ignoring the irking sensation at the back of his head, with faked casualness he went to Clarington's bed and pulled the duvet. After tucking himself, he couldn't avoid to stare at what the swimmer was doing.

Hunter was having a battle of glares against Mr. Puss for the pillow on the floor.

Sebastian sighed loudly.

His captain was so very sad.

"Didn't you say that you were going to take care of that?" He pointed with his index at the mattress at his side. "I thought you missed your classes because you were taking to the laundry the mattress that your cat stained with blood." The incandescent glare was as bright as ever, even more intense than normal.

After the conversation with Mr. Hoffman, all that his mind was capable to think about was Hunter Clarington, and it was cracking his nonchalant façade.

Now it was the turn of the ashy blond to be startled, even though he masked it better than his roommate, he even ignored his glaring cat.

He was frankly surprised to hear the other speak to him; he assumed that after last time fiasco, he would be vetoed from Sebastian's short list of human beings that deserved recognition of existence.

For an instant, by reflex, he looked straight into the angry jades of the lacrosse player… and at hearing that cynical annoyed tone…

He would have thought that because he realized a deepest meaning behind his behavior around the French, the desire and urges to put the younger bastard in his place would have subsided, well… he was wrong.

In fact, it couldn't be anymore farther from the truth.

He wanted more than yesterday, to grab him by the face and yell at him until that stubborn idiotic moron understood why he needed to stop being a spoiled self-destructive child.

"He wouldn't have done it if it wasn't because y-" Hunter pursed his lips and bit his tongue, closing his eyes tightly in frustration. "I can't do this again." He thought, yesterday he made Sebastian eat, today he made sure to keep him safe in Dalton, he won't ruin what he accomplished. He is a mature person; he can ignore Sebastian's intents to start a fight.

Although, he grimaced at remembering that in fact, he forgot about the damned mattress.

"… I had an emergency; tomorrow I'll do it as soon as I can." He muttered under his breath with a deep tired voice, returning his attention in the sleeping bag and the stupid zipper that was stuck.

This time, Sebastian didn't roll his eyes, but he did in fact, scoffed.

Narrowing his eyes in an obstinate gesture, he covered himself from head to toe under the warm duvet.

Well, apparently these days they call teen cheap melodrama an emergency. He wonders how the other would react if he knew that he saw his acoustic concert from the first line, V. I. P seats and everything.

At his last internal rant, to the brunette's mind came the recent memories of today.

How he witnessed a rawer, deeper and honest side of the troubled captain.

It was obvious that the other was having a shitty day.

"And even though, he defended you."

Shut. up.

He rolled to the left.

"To me… it seems that he actually cares."

He rolled to the right.

"You are going to fall if you keep doing that."

The brunette stopped in a halt at hearing from distance the raspy voice.

Exhaling the remains of breath in his lungs, Sebastian decided that if he was going to sleep tonight, he needed to shut the unnerving voice of his conscience. That's why he unwrapped himself and sat in the middle of the bed, a mess of sheets and duvet around him.

His exasperated jades found the tall figure of the blond, which with a last forceful pull, broke the zipper of the sleeping bag.

Sebastian's lips twitched imperceptibly, almost into a tiny smile.

Blinking rapidly to stop his line of thought, the Parisian passed a hand through his still humid locks.

"Are you going to be a complete dumb and sleep one more time on the floor?" The French made sure to make his voice sound bored.

With a glare towards the floor, directly on the piece of the zipper that flung away; Hunter turned and faced with an eyebrow raised the brunette… Although, he fought to mask his discomfort at the mess that the brunette did to his always impeccable bed. "…" After processing (wit difficulty) what the other asked, he decided to not answer.

He knew how laughable could look to the other.

How stupid he must look.

Sleeping on the floor, simply because he didn't want to leave the brunette alone.

But he couldn't help it.

His body didn't cooperate to leave the room, his mind screaming at him in the process. He will take care of the little menace.

Even if he dislocates once again his shoulder in the process.

He knows that Sebastian ate today, he knows that Sebastian wasn't going to leave, the headmaster won't allow it and Valentina Leroux can't do anything drastic without the sign of Oliver Smythe.

But he still can't dare to leave the other alone.

Sebastian never allows him to apologize, always interrupting him, or changing the conversation. Maybe he won't be able to apologize with words…

But with actions he'll show the other he cares and how different from the military brat that came from Colorado he is now.

He doesn't care how stupid he looks or how he almost got suspended today.

Because Sebastian is more important.

And to him, it'll always be.

He is not a person that turns his back on anything.

Even if he didn't ask for this sickening feeling, even if he never wanted what it's attracting him to Sebastian; he. won't. go.

"As you said last night, we study in the most pompous school in the country… there are hundreds of sofas around, why don't you go and sleep in one of them?" This time, Sebastian didn't fake his bored tone very well, and just genuine curiosity could be distinguished.

"…"

"Oh, now you don't talk, but you couldn't shut your bloody mouth in front of the headmaster."

It annoyed Sebastian how the other was ignoring his glares.

Even quiet, the other finds new ways to annoy him.

The French brunette parted his lips, already with the words at the tip of his tongue. "Go and sleep somewhere else, I will be ok." But he refrained himself.

Why would he say those things?

Saying that he was ok now; meant that he wasn't ok in the past.

It was going to give the reason to the other.

It was admitting something too personal to someone he can't figure out his intentions.

So his deprived of sleep mind only came to one solution.

Feeling the unnerving heat burning and racing from his neck towards his cheeks, his eyes dropped and stared at how he was sweeping casually some imaginative patterns on the duvet with his finger.

"…vous pouvez dormir sur le lit." He commented barely moving his lips.

"…" Hunter almost drops the buckle he was grabbing; maybe his French was worse than he thought because he swears that for a moment he almost heard as if the brunette was….

"… You can sleep in the bed." The mumble one more time resonated in the quiet room.

Still in a crouched position on the floor, Hunter turned very slowly and supported a knee on the floor to keep balance. "…Thanks but." He coughed uncomfortably. "… I'm fine."

There were at least ten reason of why he shouldn't share a bed with the brunette.

If the brunette was affected by the rejection of the offer, it didn't show, in fact, he wasn't surprised at all. "You might, but I won't be able to endure one more eternal night enduring the delightful sounds that leave your mouth full of drool."

"I don't have idea of what are you talking about." He really hasn't.

"I'm talking about the orchestra of snores that didn't let me sleep at three in the morning, maybe that's why future Mrs. Clarington dumped you." Ok, the last comment was out of place and unnecessary, but he couldn't stop himself from saying it.

He wanted to make the swimmer just as uncomfortable as the other made him feel these past days.

Dark turquoises blinked once, twice. "Again…" Three times. "I have no fucking idea of the words that leave your mouth."

With an exasperated sigh he gave up and dropped the sleeping bag.

Fuck it, he'll sleep without it.

At seeing the lack of response, and how the blond was preparing himself to sleep on the floor, something inside the brunette snapped; making him hiss the first words that crossed his mind. "Fine, sleep whenever you want, God forbids that you sleep in the same bed with a gay." He treated the duvet with harshness and covered himself under it one more time.

It was too late for when the newest Warbler realized how Sebastian could interpret his actions.

Drained and reprimanding himself for his lack of tact, with heaviness he forced his knees to cooperate and he stood up. "Sebastian, that's not wha-…"He started to say while approaching the hill under his comforter.

"Tell me just one thing, are you afraid to catch my gay germs or…" The muffled voice turned clearer when the brunette incorporated and sat, facing the older teen with dark jades full of cynicism. "…Is that you are afraid that somebody walks in and takes a picture and sends it to your homophobic father?"

Just as every time that the French defies him; Hunter's voice lowers several ranges until it sounds threatening. "I'll be very careful if I were you." Not satisfied at being at the end of the bed, with a couple of steps, he situates himself in a closer distance with the foreign teen. Eyes narrowed in challenge.

And as always, at seeing the challenge, the brunette responds with more doses of sarcasm and a smartass smile. "I can already imagine the headlight…" The French teen extends an arm to point the quote. "Golden Boy falls from grace; he sleeps with Dalton's slut. Oh, I wonder if your father is going to spit fire by his mouth." He says with fake drama. Pleased with the way his roommate's tension was almost palpable.

"At least my fath-…" Hunter's jaw was so clenched that his words sounded more like growls.

"Your father what?!" Sebastian changed his position, instead of sitting, was now kneeling on the bed. "Took you to baseball games? Read you history books? Made you a barbeque the Sundays after church? Taught you how to become a little soldier that does everything he says?..." For just one second, the green eyed mocking façade broke, for just one second it showed… bitterness.

This is what they are, Sebastian thought.

A pair of temperamental teens incapable of stand each other.

This was known territory.

"You know…" The brunette crossed his arms and tilted his head looking condescending the teen standing in front of him. "I'm beginning to think that the one with the damaged reputation will be me, after all, I would have been lowering my standards at sleeping with a stone man that obviously has been living sexually deprived." Hazy jades studied the dangerous body in front of him, from top to bottom, making a dismissing gesture with his head, it was beyond annoying how perfect he was, he couldn't even stand to look at him.

Hunter stood there, taking in all the lashing of his roommate.

He stood there, hearing the insults and the mocks.

He stood there… until he decided that enough it's enough.

His obscure turquoises stared unwavering at the foreign teen, and when he decided that the other finally had satisfied his daily dose of sarcasm.

… He took a decision.

Sebastian's smartass smile turned into an overconfident smirk at seeing how the older teen took the missing step that made them being really close from the other, Hunter's tension could be sensed from miles.

When the ashy blond narrowed his eyes and parted his lips, Sebastian unconsciously stopped his breathing and tightened the grip in his arms, already preparing himself for the arrogant comeback.

…

But it never came.

Widened jades blinked in surprise and confusion at seeing the retreating back of the swimmer.

… That never happened before.

"Well, finally that peacock has a taste of his own medicine." Sebastian's lips twitched in a content way, before he prepared himself to sleep. "It doesn't feel nice when you are the one that has his buttons being pushed, right Clarington?" The French brunette closes his eyes and nuzzles absentmindedly the warm pillow; enjoying subconsciously the soothing scent from it.

Wait.

What on earth is he doing?!

In a shudder that traveled through his spine, the brunette opened his eyes and separated himself from the pillow in a bolt.

Stepping out of his disgust, the green eyed realized that something wasn't right, the skin at his nape started to have goose bumps, curious, he turned his head slowly and from the corner of his eye he saw…

"Fucking move Smythe." The ashy blond gritted through his teeth.

Perplexed jades were so shocked that couldn't even blink. "What are you doing?" In his surprise, the brunette didn't realize how dumbfounded he sounded. His mind couldn't process why the other would stand so close to the bed.

He thought the discussion was over, and that he had won it.

"What do you think?!" Irritated and with the last straw of patient hanging by a thread, Clarington couldn't control his temper for much longer and with the pillow he was grabbing, he pushed the French not so lightly until he could climb onto the bed.

Sebastian didn't protest, his mind screaming at him in alert.

What was happening?!

What the hell is doing Clarington in the same bed as him?!

Sebastian Smythe had never been so quiet, as when he saw mutely how the captain of the Warblers accommodated in the small bed.

It wasn't until he saw how the blond took a pillow and placed it next to the other that Sebastian snapped out of his shock.

"No." With a fluid move, Sebastian grabbed the pillow and placed it between them, using it as a wall to separate them. "The pillow stays right here." His jades glared with determination.

Hunter firstly raised an eyebrow, trying to determinate if his roommate was actually serious with this childish behavior.

But then, he remembered with whom he is talking.

Of course Sebastian was being serious.

"Sebastian, we can barely fit together…"

"I. don't. care. This pillow stays here… and you are going to sleep with other sheets." Sebastian grabbed the comforter and started to roll, making himself a French wrap.

Hunter lips parted in bewilderment. "Those are mine!" Beside his words, he gave the other enough space to roll.

"I don't care, when you are going to understand that until you fix the shit of your cat, you are going to pay the consequences?!"

Even if the voice sounded muffled, Hunter knew that the green eyed was yelling.

God, he was so tired.

"Fine, the pillow stays." Hunter grumbled while he passed a hand through the hairs at the back of his head, internally grimacing at trying to sleep without a pillow. "But there are no other sheets." He stated before he watched curiously the mop of hair that was peeking from the comforter.

"…I….dnnn….creeee." (I don't care.)

At hearing the uncompressible reply, Hunter narrowed his eyes, and with a bit (a lot) of harshness he poked where he assumed that were the ribs of his roommate.

He can't deny he felt some satisfaction.

"Ouch!" The French burrito bounced and turned into a ball.

"If you don't give me some part of the comforter I will remove the stupid pillow."

It passed about fifteen seconds before the brunette started to unroll himself. "Fine." He grumbled under his breath.

The silver flecks in a pair of deep blue eyes looked at the wooden ceiling, their owner almost mutters a thank you at whomever deity that heard him and made possible to finally let him have a decent night of sleep.

Hunter turns off the small lamp at his side, dark turquoises glinted in the dark and saw in silence how the foreign teen, still completely covered, accommodated and gave him part of the comforter, only when the small hill started to raise and descend in a slow rhythm was that he assumed that was safe to accommodate himself.

"How he falls asleep so fast?"

Carefully, like afraid to perturb the other occupant of the bed, he slipped under the duvet, focusing his eyes in the sheets or anything that wasn't the sleeping silhouette curled next to him, with slow movements he turned to his side and flexed his arm, using it as a pillow for his head. He exhaled tiredly when he could finally close his eyes.

He tried to move a little, searching for a position that eased the shot of pain on his shoulder, but he felt his back brush against the pillow-wall and he froze instantly.

"…"

Trying to cause the minimum of noise he moved closer to the edge, to the point that one minuscule movement, and he'll fall to the floor.

His body was exhausted and restless, and yet, at the same time it held a tension that couldn't be repressed and didn't let him rest…

And talking about things that refused to be repressed…

If his heart pumped any harder, it will trespass his ribcage.

Hunter felt how his eyebrows furrowed at feeling the stick and uncomfortable sensation of sweat at his nape and forehead.

No matter how much he tried to rest it importance, he couldn't simply dismiss the fact that he was sharing a bed with the same boy for which he confessed having feelings.

He just couldn't.

And while he knows that nothing is going to never ever going to happen…

Wait, it's not like he wants for something to happen… Because he doesn't…

…Shit.

His eyelids retreat and let appreciate how dilated were his obscure pupils, just a faint halo of blue and silver around them.

He can't be seriously thinking about those things right now.

There is just literally one simply pillow separating him from the French nuisance that will make him eat his own eyeballs if he ever finds out what he is thinking.

With a strong exhalation he tries to relax his body.

Trying to change the nature of his thoughts, he distracts himself by staring ahead and searching for differences in the dark silhouettes.

He distinguishes easily the white ball of fur curled on top of Smythe's bed.

"Hn."

The students at Dalton say that his roommate and he don't have a conscience, but the real creature without a minimum of decency was his cat. The white feline was sleeping in the same bed he stained and started this whole mess.

Hold a second…

Puzzled deep blue eyes stared at the bed with a pensive gaze.

Without giving it a second thought, he placed a hand on the immobile shoulder next to him and shook it gently. "Smythe."

"…" The brunette didn't fall asleep as fast as his roommate thought, too preoccupied about having and anxiety attack to do so, but once he let his tiredness wash over him, his respiration was turning slower and slower with each passing second, leaving him in a lethargic state. He was almost unconscious when a warm hand started to shake him.

… What?

"Smythe."

A deep voice that sounded too familiar and too close for his comfort persisted to awake him.

"…" "Am I in hell?"

… Maybe if he pretends to be in a coma the voice will stop trying to separate his shoulder from the rest of his body.

"Sebastian!"

"What?!" The brunette snapped with his eyes closed with force, refusing to wake up.

"You are sleeping in my side of the bed."

Three seconds passed until Sebastian made sure that he wasn't having a nightmare. "… Please tell me you are joking." He croaked dryly.

"…"

At the unexpected silence, the brunette turned his body by only an inch and opened just one eye to peer. "You have more serious problems than me." It wasn't a question, it was a fact.

It may have been just one sleepy semi-opened green eye, but it was enough to make uncomfortable the ashy blond. "… Is just that the door and the..."

The unusual nervous behavior from the always confident Hunter Clarington awoke the endless curiosity of the French; who turned completely and supported his upper weight on his elbows. "What about it?"

So immersed was the brunette in his curiosity, that he didn't notice the closeness between them.

Hunter exchanged his stare between the comforter and his hands. "Hypothetically speaking, if there is an attack, it will be by the door, and it's better if I sleep closer to it."

"I'll give you more than a hypothetical attack if you don't let me sleep." Sebastian shut his mind and tried to understand whatever nonsense was trying to explain his nutcase of a roommate. "… So you could escape faster?"

At the last question, deep oceanic eyes looked straight at vibrant jades. "No, so I'll receive the attack first."

"…" The jades stared blankly at the obscure turquoises.

"It's a military thing." Stated the older teen, as if with his last comment everything was going to make sense for the French.

Sebastian had nothing.

But it was too late to try to unscramble Hunter's military freakish habits.

"Fine, I'll move." He let himself fall with a final exhalation, then he yawned and lazily rubbed one eye with his fist. "It's all yours…" He looked through his eyelashes at the young male that was sitting at his side. "…you big weirdo."

"Thank you." The newest Warbler rapidly climbed out of the bed to give enough space to his roommate to move.

Leaving that bizarre moment behind, Sebastian thought he was finally going to catch some sleep.

He thought wrong.

Apparently what just happened only increased the big pile of unsolved mysteries the revolved around Hunter Clarington.

So apparently, the other just doesn't want to cut the act of pretending to be a knight in shining armor.

It was starting to piss him off.

Now he couldn't sleep.

Kicking some sheets under him, just for the spite to bother the other, he scoffed and turned his body.

When his eyes only found a plain pillow in front of them, Sebastian grumped and supported his chin on top of it, almost snuggling above it, from his new position he could glare with all his mighty force at the nape of the military teen.

Oh, he would give all his money (which was a lot) just to have the power of heat vision for just a couple of seconds.

… His captain would be a pile of ashes right now.

It was impossible for the other to not feel the stare.

He had to be awake.

With the pass of minutes, Sebastian didn't stop thinking about the possible reason behind the unusual actions from part of the swimmer.

So far, all he knows is that the other had a bad breakup… and he can play a guitar decently.

That doesn't explain why the other almost interrogates his friends to know more about him, and then being all mother hen, even daring to protect him in front of the headmaster.

"If I keep doing this, I'm not just going to end crazy… I'm going to have my own wrinkle look."

That last thought made him sit in a halt.

The day he looks as constipated as his roommate, will be the day he'll hang himself.

The intrepid brunette crawled to turn on the lamp that was in the nightstand next to the blond, if his knees and elbows stepped with more force than necessary on sensitive parts of his roommate… it didn't matter to him.

Once the small ray of light appeared and poorly illuminated the bed, Sebastian sat with his back against the headboard, from his new position he could see the soft shadows on the tranquil features of his companion, the tantalizing shadows under his eyelashes, the gentle shades that decorated the forehead thanks to the messy golden locks… he wondered if they were soft, even if they looked a bit spiky.

Sebastian knew that Hunter was awake, he must be, and was refusing to acknowledge him.

His green jades dropped and looked at the patters that decorated the duvet.

The other was obviously trying to prevent another fight.

And he couldn't understand why.

Why would Hunter Clarington care about Sebastian Smythe?

They aren't related, they aren't friends… hell, they can't even stand each other!

Bringing his knees close to his chest, the green eyed brunette hugged his legs and placed his chin on top of his left knee.

"Why you did it?" He whispered aloud.

The French teen was correct; Hunter had been awake all the time.

He almost swears that his heart stood trapped inside his throat in all the seconds his roommate stayed on top of him; he needed all his self-control to not react when he felt an elbow on his ribs.

He had no idea what the other was thinking, why would he turn on the lamp, all he knew was that it couldn't be good.

He sensed the other at his side, how the bed deepened so close to him.

And he definitely heard the soft whisper.

It was that night in the ruins all over again.

When he didn't have the heart to explain why his father acted that way.

Now it was his actions the ones he didn't want to explain.

He pressed his face closer to his arm, in an attempt to hide his forced swallow.

"I know you are awake… you aren't snoring."

"I don't sno- "

Damn.

With a sign of resignation, the older teen opened his eyes, but still refused to turn and face his roommate.

Sebastian only raised an eyebrow suspiciously, it was so unusual, it was as if their roles were reversed; normally it's Clarington the one that wants to talk, and him the one that ignores the awkwardness.

From his position, the brunette could only see the profile of his roommate, but it was enough for him to distinguish when the long eyelashes fluttered open.

He was being ignored.

But determined to solve the mystery, he asks again, this time he doesn't whisper and his voice doesn't tremble. "Why you did it?"

Why he did it?

Even Hunter himself has problems answering that question.

Sebastian didn't need to say anything more; he knew what the other meant.

It was a matter of time before the curiosity of Sebastian started to demand answers.

The truth was that… he confronted the headmaster with the goal to keep Sebastian at Dalton.

Safe, away from triggers.

"I did it to keep you safe." Yeah, how pathetic does that sound? There is no way he'll say that.

"…I" Hunter licks his lips, suddenly they feel to dry. "…Um" "…So" He fakes a cough, but ends up choking for real.

The blue eyed blond supports his weight on his previously flexed arm and ends up lying in his stomach, having a coughing attack.

The brunette extends an arm and at mere inches of touching the shuddering back, he refrains himself.

Hunter will never want him to touch him.

"You could…" He needed to divert his gaze to remember what he wanted to say. "…You could have told the headmaster everything, and you would have been completely free of me, if you wanted me to stay here for the Warblers practices, you just had to rat me out and…"

"I don't do that."

Green jades widened in the dark and looked at his side. Sebastian was so immersed in his thoughts, that it took him by surprise when he didn't noticed when his roommate sat next to him, both teens awkwardly sitting against the small headboard.

"I don't rat people out, if I have a problem with someone, I solve it with the person involved, any other person's opinion it's irrelevant."

Angry, frustrated, bored, tired, surprised, content, sleepy… it didn't matter the state in which Sebastian was, at the end of the day, it will always leave him breathless the determination that always shines and carries those dark aquamarines.

He needed to blink out of his stupor to continue his words. "But still, I guarantee you that there were hundreds of easier ways to solve your weird caprice, I mean…" Sebastian's voice broke and started to sound breathless in disbelief. "… Clarington, you almost got suspended… you choose to get suspended instead of stepping out of my own problem. "

Dark turquoises distinguished how nervous hands that were hugging long legs, were now trembling, almost imperceptibly, on top of bent knees.

It really hit Hunter, how unconceivable was for the Parisian the concept that someone can care for him on an honest level, not wanting anything in exchange.

It made him wonder in which level was really hurt his roommate.

And it made him realize that Sebastian wasn't in condition to know the whole truth about his behavior.

Maybe he'll never will.

Pressuring his jaw, he swallowed the sickening bile that he is starting to think as reflux. "I did it as a…"

"Man up Clarington." "I-… I did it because I'd never thanked you for what you did in Dalton's brunch."

The light wasn't strong enough, and Sebastian never realized how grey turned his roommate's eyes the moment he said those words.

But he heard his voice and his words, and internalized them.

Un-freking-believable.

It was so golden-boy-twisted.

… And it made sense.

In a Clarington-ish way.

After all these weeks, it was absurd that Hunter didn't let that incident go.

But when he ever does?

Still in the incredulity land, Sebastian let escape a breath of air in the form of a small laugh.

Hunter Clarington was so good and perfect that it hurts.

"You are saying that you defended me, almost getting suspended in the process, just because I took you to some decadent ruins?" There was no skepticism in his tone, just pure and raw astonishment... "I mean… Wow." It was amazing how all the tension and worry that was trapped inside of the young brunette disappeared.

He wasn't Clarington's charity case.

It was just that Clarington had a moral code made of gold.

The brunette demeanor relaxed and turned jovial, even a small smile adorned his soft lips. "I don't want to know what you would have done if that day I gave you a blowjob." He thought aloud, staring ahead at the white curtain covering the door of glass.

While all the tension leaved the slim body of the brunette, it seemed as if someone would have splashed with frozen water the body of the blue eyed swimmer.

With the last comment, the bile trapped inside his throat refused to go down, making Hunter furrow his eyebrows in discomfort.

"Hn." Was all he could accomplish to say.

Oblivious of the troubled blond at his side, the lacrosse player kept thinking aloud his opinions, extending and flexing his long legs several times distractedly. "You know, I'd never believed what the others said about you taking steroids…" He trailed off with his smoothing voice resonating through the walls.

Hunter stopped his reprimanding, self-massacring contemplations in a halt. "Really?"

Just the idea of Sebastian not believing those ridiculous rumors, made magically disappear the nauseating bile trapped.

… He was so screwed.

"Yeap." The French teen dismissively brushed some of his hazelnut locks out of his face. "I think that entire anger thing is part of your charming self." There, the sly smartass smile was back. "And can't be eradicated unless you know a good exorcist… but still…" The brunette playfully bumped his shoulder against Hunter's, before he started to accommodate under the duvet.

Hunter's mouth twitched at seeing how Sebastian Smythe fluffed his pillow.

"But still…?" Dark turquoises glinted in the dark and encouraged the other.

It was insane.

Yesterday, he mocked Sebastian's condition, and even dared to insult his mother.

Today, it was Sebastian the one who disrespected his childhood.

They hurt each other weakest points, weaknesses that the rest of the world doesn't even know that exist.

And here they are.

Sharing a bed and almost joking together.

Maybe a person shouldn't be close to someone that hurts them on daily basis.

Maybe a person would never find true happiness in someone that only knows the smiles.

But a person can be who they truly are, around someone that knows their worst side and still isn't afraid of them.

In that moment, Hunter understood perfectly why he did it.

"I still believe that these past days you've been under something reaaally heavy, give me some of it in the weekend ok?"

Hunter blinked rapidly and a bit puzzled he stared down at the brunette, who was just effervescent jades and a tangled mop of hair, the rest was covered by the duvet.

"I don't promise anything." He answered with the joke as connotation.

"Jackass."

Hunter tried to hide his smile, but it was a lost cause.

Because of the lack of space, when the newest Warblers started to accommodate, their arms brushed.

The ashy blond froze at feeling the contrast of temperatures between them.

"Shit Sebastian, you are freezing!"

With a fluid move, Hunter pulled out the duvet and stood up; Sebastian muttered incoherent French insults that died on the pillow stuffed in his face.

He should have never let the other convince him to share the sheets.

"Sebastian."

Said teen peered from the eye that wanted to cooperate more, and distinguished his roommate with a hoodie on his hand.

"For how long are you going to be nice with me?... Cause so far I've seen more cons than pros." He croaked dryly, closing his eye once again. He was fine; he didn't need Hunter's hoodie.

"Until you are capable to take proper care of yourself…Wake up snail." He poked once again the hill under the duvet.

"Ouch!"

Hunter tried to keep his serious composure at seeing annoyed jades and a pout directed at him.

"We need to talk about boundaries."

"Tomorrow, now just put this…"

Sebastian's lips parted at seeing a grin… a grin in the face of his roommate, the sight distracted him, that's why it took him by surprise when he felt how something was being pushed through his head.

"Hey!" All his attempts to refuse and resist the strong hands were futile.

He felt like one of those stupid children when his parents force them to wear ridiculous clothes.

When a hand lifted the hood, he almost bit it.

"There… better?" It might be interpreted as mocking, but there were fondness and care in the deep aquamarines that couldn't stop glinting in the dark.

"Vous allez payer pour ce." The hiss would have been more threatening if it wasn't because the hood was so big, that covered the French teen 'til the tip of the freckled nose.

"No insults after midnight, now…" Hunter playfully pushed the blind brunette back to the bed.

Earning a small yelp.

"… Let's sleep the few hours that rest." The ashy blond climbed into the bed after he turned off the lamp in the nightstand.

"I would, but you keep awakening me." "This hoodie it's kind of nice… maybe I'll search for more tomorrow."

"Hn."

With total darkness surrounding them, and laying each one of them with their backs facing, Hunter still couldn't stop thinking about the one last nagging thing that was irking him to the point of keep him awake.

And the voice of his mind didn't shut up about how Sebastian demeanor returned back to normal and was once again fearless and unpreoccupied.

Maybe it was the time to ask a final question.

… Probably not.

But just at seeing how well (please appreciate the sarcasm) it went to ask Niff, maybe a direct approach would be easier.

Who was he kidding? It was suicide.

But tonight he had a chance, who knows when he'll have another?

Sebastian was unpredictable in all the aspects of his life, it was better to act when you still had an opportunity.

Inhaling a remarkable amount of air, he encouraged himself and parted his lips. "Why do you need to have sessions with Dr. Johnson?" His voice resonated loud and clear.

"…"

Damn he really needs to work on his tact.

"…"

At receiving only silence as an answer, Hunter opened his eyes carefully.

Maybe the brunette fell asleep.

When his heart reassumed to his normal beat, he sighed resigned… He had to ruin it didn't he!?

The hairs at the back of his head instantly bristled at hearing the hoarse voice.

"Because in Paris there is a doctor with a stick so stocked into his ass that can't make a decent diagnostic even if his life depended on it."

Hunter didn't understand why the answer surprised him that much… It was very Sebastian's style.

"… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-…" He got himself stuck into this situation, and it was damn hard to escape from it.

"It's ok."

"No it's not… That was uncalled for… and too personal and…" He rushed his words, and that plus, his deep tone of voice, was making it hard to comprehend what he was saying… or trying to.

"Since when something as trivial as manners ever stopped Hunter Clarington?"

"…" He didn't perceive mock, or sarcasm or… anything from the other voice.

The emotions were being masked.

Because of their positions, Hunter didn't see how the brunette was fisting the cotton material of the hoodie just above his heart.

Sebastian repeated himself over and over that Hunter was the golden boy. The blond has an annoying tendency to act and try to accommodate everything that didn't fulfill his American Dream requirements.

Hunter might have succeeded in getting closer to Sebastian, to a point that had Sebastian near an anxiety attack.

The newest Warbler knew things that not even his own father knew.

And even if tonight it felt indescribable good to discover that for once in his life, he wasn't someone's charity case; that the other wanted to honestly help him.

… Tonight he shared enough secrets for one night.

What happened to him in Paris was a chapter of his life that was too hidden to be brought to life.

Just as he said to Mr. Johnson in one of his first sessions. "I've learned, hided and paid for what I did, I have no intentions to look back again."

With a shudder that only the warmth impregnated in the scent from the hoodie could calm; Sebastian came back from time. And remembered the best cure for a pathetic and pitiable session of feelings… A round of healthy banter with his roomie. "Good night Clarington... you've been a pain in the ass tonight… and not in the fun way." He only hoped that his last attempt of a joke didn't sound so stern.

"Night Smythe…" Not being able to hold it anymore, the blond turned his face just as his neck aloud him too… he needed to see if Sebastian was ok.

All he saw was a curled back and half of a freckled face snuggled to the hoodie.

…These random acts of cuteness from part of the French needed to stop.

"…You can keep the hoodie by the way." Again, when he tried to fake a cough to control his awkwardness, he ended having a coughing attack.

"Shut up!..." Sebastian tried to kick the other in the legs, but ended up tangled with the sheets. "And notice that every tortuous minute that I shared tonight with you, will be discounted from my time with the Warblers on Saturday's practice."

Hunter let escape a small laugh. "Tomorrow's or nothing."

"… Deal."

The captain didn't close his eyes, until he heard the breathing pattern from his companion tranquilize.

"I'm happy you are my roommate" He whispered on the edge of unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry about your car."

Barely being able to register the whisper, smiling lips sleepily replied one last answer.

"No you are not."

End.

A/N: Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

(*) When I wrote that line, I thought for several minutes to erase it, it is full with prejudice and it's completely unacceptable, but then I thought about reality, and I choose to leave it, so the reader could identify and internalize how easy is to hurt someone with the most random of thoughts; maybe you can say something hurtful towards someone that isn't even present in the room and think that it's ok, but you are damaging the perception that others have of that person… So be careful.

Adding to that random line, 97% of the fic is full of triggers about anorexia, depression and verbal abuse, and the goal or message that I wanted to transmit is still the same that I explained previously; people can hurt others with words… without even realizing it.

Again, thank you, you are wonderful and deserve a bag of marshmallows!