Disclaimer: I may be a poor, poor student trying to find out what to do next year, but I know my rights! And like hell I own Eragon and Co. Nope, not me. Nor do I own a song that is used as Murtagh's ringer. The name of this song will be released in the next chapter. The title was inspired by a Naruto fic with the same name, which is a completely different story from mine.
Claimer: I, SussieKitten, own this plot and the story. Borrow or steal my plot, (when used) my original characters or story and I will report you.
Warning: Teacher/Student relationships. Slash/Yaoi – meaning guy x guy action. If any of this disturbs you, click on the "back" button. I won't tolerate any flames.
A/N When I first started to write this story, I was pleased I was finally going to write a one-shot again. But then it grew too long and I had to cut it in half. It looks much better this way and I didn't have to put any restraints on the content. Also, it's my first time writing Garrow where he actually has lines. I really hope I managed make him somewhat IC.
EDIT: There used to be Japanese lines in this story, but after thinking over it and realising how utterly silly it was of me to put them in, I edited them out. Thanks to those who pointed out my grammatical errors in the language, as I'm obviously not fluent in it. I'm sorry if anyone's going to miss it. And because there are a few scenes that just won't be the same without the Japanese dialogue, I have written the words in English but highlighted them like this.
COME UNDONE
PART ONE
An eighteen year old brunet sat in the middle of a decent sized classroom, his cheek supported by his palm. His dark brown eyes were staring out of the window, clouded with thoughts. A pair of dark torn and ripped jeans barely stayed on thanks to the studded belt around his hips. A thin hooded sweater in tan and black ghosted around his frame. And Eragon Rider wasn't even remotely paying attention to whatever his teacher was saying. It was Creative Writing, and he knew if whatever that was said was important he would find it on the school's webpage later that afternoon. He was in no mood to concentrate. In fact, he couldn't.
Beside him a petite blonde was gazing at him out of the corner of her eye. She looked worried, and with good reason. Eragon had been her friend since before either of them could remember, and never had she seen him look so preoccupied. Saphira Drake bit her lip and slowly turned back to her note taking. One of them had pay attention after all. They weren't in high school anymore.
The bell rang not long after, snapping Eragon out of his thoughts. Which was actually a good thing, all things considered. His mind had the tendency to stray the wrong way when left alone too long.
"Be sure to check the web tonight! I'll put out your homework there," their teacher shouted after them.
Half of the class groaned. Eragon would have joined in had he been listening. As soon as they were out of the classroom, Saphira grabbed hold of him and dragged him out of the English Hall.
As if seeing her for the first time that day, he couldn't help but to notice how his best friend looked. Saphira's blue eyes twinkled beneath her long forelock, the rest of her hair falling in layers around her face and neck. Her light jeans were baggy and were held up by a belt, and her black top nearly clung to her every curve. A thin, hooded white jacket was left unzipped, as the summer would soon enough begin to creep up on them.
"Eragon, what's wrong?" she asked him, a small frown marring her face.
Eragon shook his head weakly.
"Oh, nothing. I was just spacing," Eragon answered.
Saphira sent him a disbelieving glare.
"Liar," she said then. "Is something wrong, Eragon? You can tell me."
Eragon smiled weakly.
"You've been studying I see?" he said as they came out into a milling hallway.
"Yeah," the blonde replied as she fixed the strap hanging over her shoulder. "We do have a test next week after all."
The brunet dragged a hand absently through his unruly hair.
"Yeah," he murmured.
"Is this about…"
Saphira's voice trailed off. And Eragon knew why.
Ever since starting college, he had had a crush on someone, someone he'd rather not like that way. But ever since the year before, when he had stepped into Psychology 101, he had fallen heads over heels for his teacher. But once Eragon had shown his friends just who his teacher was they had stopped arguing or even asking him what he had been thinking.
His teacher was, in one word, perfect. The man had told the class the first day that he had just gotten his teaching licence, and that he was looking forward to teaching them. And he was just twenty-three!
Eragon sighed.
"You shouldn't even have to ask me that," he said lowly.
"If it bothers you that much, maybe you should drop out?" but even Saphira didn't sound confident about what she was saying.
"I can't Saph," Eragon sighed. "I need the course to get a full score, and the drop date has already passed."
Saphira sighed.
"Then I guess you'll just have to survive. For don't you dare to die on me," suddenly her mood had switched to semi-playful. "If you do, I'll bring you back and kill you myself."
Eragon smiled weakly. He knew she was just trying to cheer him up, but little helped these days. Every Tuesday and Friday he would almost act like a zombie. For those were the days he had Psychology.
"Ah, there you guys are!"
The two teens turned around. A tall dark haired female slowed her running into a walk as she came closer. Her short hair was pulled back in a ponytail, showing off her vibrant green eyes perfectly. Her dark green pants were loose, but clung to the right places nonetheless. Her soft and light tee showed off her shoulders as her jacket was tied around her hips. Arya Elve smiled as she stopped up before them.
"Hello Saph, kid," she greeted them.
"Watch it Arya, or I'll start calling you old hag again," Eragon replied deadpanned.
Arya just laughed.
"Ready for another hour of hell I see," she said simply.
Eragon just sighed.
"I'm placing him in your hands. Take care of him, Arya," Saphira said before she took off towards the Art Wing and her next class.
Arya just nodded. Then her gaze turned to Eragon. The brunet merely shrugged and started to walk towards their next class. He had never asked Arya why she had chosen to take a sophomore class when she herself was a junior. But he was glad she was there. He knew he would need the support.
"Hey, how are you? Seriously," Arya asked in a whisper.
Eragon had stuffed his hands into his pockets; his posture becoming hunched as he walked on. He could feel a headache creeping.
"Okay I guess, until I remembered that I had this class today," he answered.
Arya's constant mischievous mood sobered slightly.
"I know what it's like. I've been there myself, and -"
"Yeah, and how old were you again?" Eragon asked her.
Arya flushed softly.
"Fine, so I was in high school. But I got over it, end of story. I'm just saying that you can too," the green eyed girl finished.
The classroom got closer as they entered the Social Studies Block of the college. Eragon stopped up for a moment, watching as students walked pass them seemingly without a care in the world.
"That's just it…I can't," he whispered.
Arya wisely stayed silent.
-:-
Eragon always sat in the very back of the room, by the desk next to the window. And Arya always sat beside him. It had been easy to obtain these seats as the other students always argued who were to sit at the front row. Arya and Eragon had laughed at this before their first lesson, having not seen the teacher beforehand, but their laughter had instantly stopped when the he had walked in. All noise would cease when he entered, apart from the occasional dreamy sigh.
Arya had been one of the few female students not to fall over themselves after seeing Mr Morzansson the first time. Eragon on the other hand…he had fallen hard. And he suspected he wasn't even close to the bottom yet.
The pair entered the classroom in silence. Most of the students had already arrived, and two girls were loudly arguing over who had come to the last front seat first. Eragon walked pass them without as much as sparing them a glance. He could feel Arya come after him, her worried green eyes fixed at his back. Eragon only sighed and slumped into his usual seat.
The brunet ran a hand through his hair as he waited for the bell to ring. He absently noted that his forelock was getting slightly long. Maybe he should cut it? His uncle Garrow always commented amusedly on how he couldn't look his nephew in the eye anymore. Eragon smiled wryly at the thought. If Garrow just knew what was going on he would be glad he couldn't look him in the eye.
The bell rang then, waking Eragon from his slight daze. Arya bit her lip as she shot him yet another worried glance. She was unable to say anything else as the teacher decided to enter the room at that precise moment.
Eragon winced when he heard the girls enthusiastically greet the teacher, their voice going straight to his head. The guys weren't far behind, but their greeting was more out of respect. No one disliked Mr Morzansson. It just wasn't possible.
"Good afternoon all," Mr Morzansson said in his usual husky voice. "Ready to dig into today's subject?"
The girls practically giggled. Eragon sighed again as he forced himself to look up. He wasn't enthusiastic about having to look at the teacher that plagued his mind so, but he didn't want to look like he wasn't paying attention either.
As soon as Eragon lifted his gaze, his eyes were locked at the man standing before them. Morzansson had told them the first day that his name was Murtagh and that he preferred to be addressed as such, though few of the actually students actually did so. He was a tall man with pale skin and messily styled black hair. His hair always seemed to hang into his intense eyes, eyes that gleamed hazel with flecks of green around the pupils. Eragon knew this from the torturous few times he had been close and brave enough to look his teacher in the eye. He always wore dark clothes, be they black or a dark shade of another colour. And he always, no matter what, looked too good to be considered legal.
"Does anyone remember what we're covering today?" Morzansson asked with a soft smirk.
Half of the class eagerly raised their hands. Morzansson chuckled and chose one of the more hesitant ones.
"Um…personality disorders?" the student asked more than she said.
Morzansson grinned.
"That's correct. I hope you've all read the chapter for today, or you won't be able to participate much in today's lesson," the teacher booted up the laptop as he spoke. "We'll be covering one disorder today. So, can anyone tell me what antisocial personality disorder is?"
The class eagerly raised their hands again. The wall behind Morzansson lit up with a classical presentation image. The headline spelled the disorder they were discussing. He himself stood a little to the right, the portable computer-mouse in his hand.
"Yes, Mr Surda?"
"It's a disorder that can't be diagnosed before you've turned fifteen, and since that time you've had to have shown disrespect towards social norms or rules." the student in question answered.
"Good," Morzansson said with a small nod. "But why don't you elaborate? What kind of social norms or rules?"
Orrin Surda coughed and looked away. Morzansson laughed.
"That's fine, it's a hard question," the dark haired male said. "Does anyone want to answer?"
Eragon jumped when he saw Arya raise her hand. Usually they didn't participate in class, but he knew that Arya had written a paper in high school about the very subject they were discussing. He looked away when the teacher turned in their direction.
"Yes, Ms Elve?" Morzansson called.
"They are incapable of following rules or laws, and examples of disrespect towards norms are that they are often cruel to animals or people," Arya answered with a sure and steady voice.
"Very good," the teacher said with a half smirk. "And this brings me to my next question. Can someone give me the characteristics of ASPD?"
The screen behind him suddenly bore the title description of the disorder and the line: Characteristics – 3 of the following criteria's must be present. Morzansson clicked the mouse one more time before he allowed his gaze to travel back to his students. Eragon was not surprised to see the first half of Arya's answer standing as the first criteria.
The brunet allowed his mind to wander. The class eagerly chatted on without him. He even ignored a few pokes done by his friend. Eragon was not in a mood to pay attention. He was too busy massaging his softly throbbing temples.
A few minutes later an especially sharp poke woke him from his thoughts. He managed just to catch the question before he felt everyone's eyes on him.
"- the last criteria, Mr Rider?"
Eragon felt his cheeks flush. He quickly looked up on the list. He gulped before answering hesitantly, still not meeting the teacher's gaze.
"Lack of guilt after having physically hurt or stolen from someone?"
Eragon couldn't miss, even though he wasn't looking at him, the smile that appeared on Morzason's face.
"Yes, and what more about their lack of guilt?" he encouraged.
"Eh…they're either indifferent or try to explain away their actions?" Eragon answered shakily.
"Don't sound so hesitant, Rider. You're absolutely correct," Morzansson said before he turned back to the rest of the class.
Arya sent him a soft smile which Eragon caught out of the corner of his eye. The brunet turned towards her with a panicked look in his eyes. Arya patted his hand comfortingly. She knew how he hated to he pointed out in classes. There was a reason he wasn't as active as the rest of the students.
The bell rang not too soon for Eragon. After having been called by the teacher, he had been unable to get the blush out of his cheeks. It burned so much it actually hurt! Eragon just continued to rub his cheeks pathetically as he walked towards the door with Arya.
"Rider, can I talk to you for a moment?"
Eragon froze. He gulped before he turned around. Morzansson was leaning onto the teacher's desk, the usual smirk absent from his face.
"I'll see you later, Eragon," Arya whispered before she turned back around and left the room.
The door shut behind her. Eragon bit his lip as he walked up towards the man that plagued his very existence. He stuffed his shaking hands into his pockets.
"What is it, sir?" the brunet asked softly.
"Are you aware that your grades have dropped dramatically compared to last semester?" the teacher asked with a hint of concern in his voice.
"Yes, sir," Eragon answered.
"I don't see why," Morzansson sighed. "Your tests show that you know the subject, but your lack of participation in class is pulling you down. And I'm afraid that your paper on Learning Theories barely got a passing grade."
Eragon winced. It was only March, and already he was almost failing. Sometimes he wondered what was wrong with him. He had managed to get through the first year, but apparently his crush had decided to develop into a full blown love during the summer and was making it impossible for him to pass Psych class.
"I'm sorry," Eragon whispered.
"There's nothing to be sorry about," the other man said kindly. "I just want you to do your best. I would hate to fail you when I know you can do this."
The brown eyed teen lifted his gaze. Their eyes met. Eragon felt himself blush again and looked away quickly.
"I'll try to do better."
Eragon turned to walk away, but a hand grasping onto his shoulder stopped him.
"Eragon," Morzansson paused. "Don't try, do. Do better."
Eragon bit his lip again.
"Yes, sir," he whispered.
The hand on his shoulder slowly let go. Eragon didn't look back as he walked out of the room.
-:-
"Oh Eragon, I'm so sorry."
The brunet in question stood behind the counter in the local bookstore he worked in. A black rimmed and grey t-shirt proudly presented the name of the place he worked.
"It's okay. You couldn't have known," Eragon answered.
In front of him Arya frowned. Saphira was busy attending to a costumer to his right, but he knew she was paying attention to their conversation.
"Still! If you had told me I could have helped you," Arya continued guiltily.
Eragon didn't answer as he heard Saphira say goodbye to her costumer before turning to them. It was an hour before closing, and not many stopped by Trondsheim Bookstore. But that didn't mean that no one did.
"Eragon, you could at least have told us that he was affecting you this much," Saphira commented softly.
"It's fine," Eragon said with a forced smile. "I'll probably get over it soon."
"It's been a year and a half. I don't think so," Saphira said as she folded her arms across her stomach.
Eragon sighed.
"I think I'll go and tidy up a bit," he said and walked out from behind the counter.
"Alright. But don't think you're getting away from us that easily," Saphira said with a small worried frown.
"I should get going anyway. Bye Eragon!" Arya called after his retreating form.
Eragon vaguely heard the girls say goodbye, but ignored it. A group of younger teenagers had been to the store a few hours prior. He knew he would find some random books standing in the wrong shelf or not having been put away at all in the back.
His hands slipped into his pockets and his posture slumped forward. The brunet regretted telling his friends what Mr Morzansson and he had talked about. But there was nothing he could do about it now.
Eragon stepped into the back of the store and saw indeed some books that had not been put away. The Trondsheim wasn't a normal bookshop but not quite a library either. There were a few tables in the back as well as in the front where people could skim through a book or two if they wanted to. But the store also sold newspapers, school supplies and various other small things. It was popular among the local high school and college/university students. But putting away things weren't as popular.
"Eragon! I'm just going to take the cash into the back!" Saphira shouted a few minutes later.
"Alright!" Eragon yelled back, not really paying attention.
He was trying to remember where the Medicine section of the store was. Eragon wasn't often back there, and only knew where his own subjects had their books or where to find the books he liked to read. He was so engrossed with trying to find the correct shelf that he jumped when someone touched his shoulder.
"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
Eragon felt his entire being freeze. He had believed, hoped, that with it being Friday he wouldn't have to see that person until Tuesday. Not even bothering to try to regain his calm, the brunet turned around.
"Ah, Eragon. I didn't know you worked here," Morzansson said kindly.
Eragon swallowed. He settled for smiling as his voice simply refused to work.
"Could you help me? I'm looking for the Psychology section," Morzansson continued.
"Ah, yeah," Eragon snapped himself out of his state. "It's the shelf to your right there."
The man looked behind himself and let out a heartfelt laugh.
"Well, there you go. Thank you," he said with another sexy smirk.
Eragon just nodded. He didn't stick around to watch whatever his teacher might be looking for. Instead he nearly ran in the opposite direction, suddenly remembering where the books in his hands belonged.
Eragon cursed under his breath as he put away the books perhaps a bit harder than needed be. He couldn't believe himself! Why did he always have to act like a love-sick school girl around Morzansson? It was unbelievably embarrassing.
"Damn it," Eragon cursed when he found that he was just an inch too short to put the book where it belonged. "Just my luck."
"Here, let me help you."
Eragon blushed when the book was taken right out of his hands and put into its place.
"You'd think there would be a ladder around here," Morzansson commented with a low chuckle.
"There is, but there were a couple of kids in here earlier and they love to play with it," Eragon replied dryly.
Morzansson let out another laugh.
"Why am I not surprised?" he said quietly.
Eragon just shrugged. Inside he was cursing Saphira for leaving them alone.
"Eragon."
Something in Morzansson's voice made him turn around.
"I'm sorry if I seemed harsh earlier," the older man said. "I hope you understand that wasn't my intention."
"Of course," Eragon said and smiled nervously.
A look of relief flashed in Morzansson's eyes.
"Good," he smiled, and his eyes flicked back and forth quickly. "Actually…are you tending to the store alone? I haven't heard or seen anyone else since stepping inside."
"Oh, my friend's just in the back, putting away some stuff," the brunet said with surprising ease.
Morzansson nodded. He started to trek toward the front of the store again.
"Aren't you coming? I can't ring up these books by myself," his voice carried back with an amused edge.
The brunet bit his lip. Again he cursed Saphira. He jogged to catch up with his teacher, jumping back the counter effortlessly. He didn't really pay attention as he rang up the books, and heard himself say the price. It was as if something had taken over inside of him. He had become accustomed to tending to costumers without really paying attention.
"Eragon, you know we have to talk about – oh, hello Mr Morzansson!"
Eragon glared over his shoulder. He knew very well what Saphira had been about to blurt out, and thanked God that she was a very observant girl.
"Good evening, miss," Morzansson nodded politely.
Saphira simply smiled. Eragon clenched his teeth as he gave his teacher back the correct change.
"May I ask how you know my name?" the dark haired man asked amusedly.
"Oh, I may not have you as my teacher, but I recognize you from school," Saphira said a little hesitantly.
Eragon had always known Saphira to be a bad liar, but now he saw the full effect of it. He cursed every God he could possibly think of when the floor didn't open up and swallow him.
Fortunately enough Morzansson seemed to accept that answer. He merely nodded and gave the girl a half-smirk.
"I'll be seeing you on Tuesday then, Eragon. Good night," the older man said softly before he turned around and exited the shop.
The blonde walked up to the door after him, flipping the open sign to closed before turning back to her friend.
"Well, isn't someone the teacher's little favourite?" she practically purred.
"What?" Eragon asked. "Have you been snorting magic markers again? I keep telling you, they aren't actually magical."
Saphira rolled her eyes.
"Seriously, Eragon. Don't tell me you didn't see the looks he gave you?"
The brown eyed teen frowned. He picked up his bag and jacket; both items had been brought back into the store by Saphira earlier, and snorted.
"What looks? The 'who's your crazy friend?' ones?" Eragon drawled.
"Men," Saphira sighed. "I'm not even going to bother. I shall confer with Arya later and then we'll see if you'll finally wake up and greet the day."
Eragon kept frowning as they both walked out of the store and locked it behind them. They parted ways, but even so Saphira's words stayed on his mind. He shook his head and simply told himself that Saphira had finally lost her mind, and that was all.
-:-
Eragon woke up the next morning feeling anything but refreshed. His dreams had been plagued by a certain dark haired teacher, and not in a good way. He ran a hand through his hair and winced when he found it tangled and sweaty, just as he had suspected. A quick shower changed his poor state, but not his haunted eyes.
Glad that he didn't have work until five that afternoon; the brunet ate a quick breakfast before walking out to meet his friends. He wasn't looking too forward to that. He had a sneaky feeling that Saphira would go through with her threat and tell Arya before he arrived. Almost unconsciously he slowed down.
"Ah Eragon, there you are!"
Eragon waved at his two friends. But strangely enough they weren't the only ones who were waiting for him. Behind them stood a very tall redhead, whom Eragon instantly felt a little afraid of, with a pair of startling golden brown eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties. Beside him and talking animatedly was a lean dark haired and skinned female with soft brown eyes. She looked not to have hit twenty yet, but Eragon couldn't be sure.
"We've been waiting for you," Saphira scolded playfully.
"To think that you actually made our guests wait, 'Agon," Arya tsk'ed. "Where are your manners?"
Eragon merely lifted an eyebrow. Arya smirked in answer.
"Anyway, this is Thorn," Saphira said, nodding to the tall and bulky male that had taken his place behind her.
"No need to look so scared. I'm not going to eat you," Thorn said with a tiny smirk. "It's nice to meet you."
"And I'm Nasuada," the dark haired girl greeted with a smile. "I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of one-another."
Eragon just nodded.
"Aren't you cute?" Nasuada commented with a soft laugh. "He's scared of us, Thorn!"
"Hey, I am not!" Eragon piped up though he inched a little away from Thorn as he said so.
"I can see that," Thorn laughed.
"Thorn, behave," Saphira said with a slight narrowing of her eyes.
Suddenly everything clicked for Eragon. He hated how slow he could be sometimes.
"You're seeing him?" Eragon said to Saphira, then to Arya. "And you her?"
"Hand over the money, Arya! And you said he would need ten minutes," the blonde piped up eagerly.
Arya surrendered the money with ease, a smirk on her lips.
"Hadn't it been for Thorn's possessiveness it would have taken him longer, believe me," the green eyed girl commented mock-innocently.
Saphira had the grace to blush.
The group found a vacant table inside the closest café and sat down in a very comfortable booth. Eragon was surprised when he didn't feel out of place or like the fifth wheel. Thorn and Nasuada were very welcoming towards him and they made sure to include him in discussions he had little or no prior information about. The brunet felt very at ease, until…
"But this is the…what did you call him…kid? Yes, the kid that has an enormous crush on Mr New-Guy," Nasuada said practically out of the blue.
Eragon could feel himself blushing.
"I hate you, Arya," he growled.
"Now, now, no need for that," the dark skinned female interrupted before a banter could begin. "I'm just saying that I understand. I know him, and even if I'm batting completely for the other team, I can see what the fuss is all about."
Eragon just sunk lower into his seat and continued to glare at Arya. The girl in question winked.
"What class do you have him in?" Thorn asked.
Eragon nearly jumped up. He gave them all a suspicious look before answering.
"Psychology."
To his surprise Thorn smiled. Eragon had known the red haired male for a total of hours he had never seen him smile. And by the look on Saphira's and Arya's face, it didn't happen often either.
"Should have figured," he murmured to himself and chuckled.
"What aren't you telling us, Thorn?" Saphira asked suspiciously.
The redhead put an arm around her shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Her face lit up almost immediately. Beside him Arya grinned.
"Why do I suddenly have the feeling that I'm being left out?" Eragon said with a very visible sarcastic edge.
"Don't worry, babe. You wouldn't believe us even if we told you," Arya said with a laugh.
"Saph…if this has anything to do with yesterday, I swear I'll -" the brunet found himself cut off however.
"Listen here, Eragon," Nasuada said gently, her hands folded on top of the table. "Let me tell you something about Thorn and me. Thorn was in Murtagh's graduating class, I was the year below them. We're very close friends, much alike to you three, and we've managed to keep in touch even after school. Let's just say that something regarding Murtagh had us coming down to see him for ourselves."
"Coming down, Nas? You live next door to my old house," Arya laughed.
The girl beside her gave her a wink.
"You don't look twenty-two," Eragon commented before he could stop himself, and a flush quickly burned across his cheeks.
Nasuada laughed loudly.
"Oh, don't be embarrassed. I get that all the time. I need to show ID almost everywhere I go."
"That must suck," Eragon said with a slight frown.
"It sometimes has its advantages," she answered mystically.
Eragon's frown deepened, his hands sinking into his pants pocket as he did so. Then he remembered something.
"What about him?" he asked.
Nasuada sent him a confused look.
"What about Morzansson? What made you come over here?" Eragon clarified.
Thorn smirked.
"That is for us to know and for you to find out," he said with a slight lift of his eyebrows.
"I get more answers out of my dust-bunnies than I do you," the brown eyed teen said deadpanned.
The others just laughed loudly.
-:-
Monday morning Eragon forced himself through his classes. It wasn't easy. It seemed that no matter where he went, Morzansson followed. In his sleep, at school, he just seemed everywhere. Hell, the man knew where he worked now, and not to mention that his friends wouldn't leave the topic alone. After revealing both of their relationships to him the previous weekend, they actually seemed to want to talk about the subject even more.
Eragon had thought about dating someone else, to get Morzansson out of his mind, but then he remembered that he had never dated a day in his life. Hell, he barely recognized it when people flirted with him! It wasn't his fault he was socially inadequate. Being gay and only having socialised with his two best friends, both who happened to be girls, had just made it hard to recognize a come-on when they happened. Which, in Eragon's book, was never.
Currently he was sitting in the cafeteria, trying to go over his homework for the following day. But it wasn't easy. There was a slight throbbing in the back of his eyes. And he didn't want to take another painkiller just yet.
"What's eating you, idiot?"
Eragon was shaken out of his thoughts when someone spoke to him. He looked up and gave the older male standing above him a glare. Eragon knew him from his Japanese class, but he couldn't for the life of him remember his name. Something with a V maybe? He couldn't help but to think vain when he looked at him.
"Why do you care?" Eragon snapped.
The other snorted, a hand coming to run through his silk black hair.
"Just thought I'd give you a helping hand. Can't have that pretty head of yours exploding just because you're thinking too hard," he drawled in a bored voice.
"Why you…" Eragon's glare darkened. "You bastard. Mind your own bloody business."
Eragon didn't give the other a chance to reply. He slammed his books shut, got to his feet and stalked out of the cafeteria. He then proceeded to curse the nameless student in any way and language he could.
"I didn't know you took Japanese," an amused voice woke him from his cursing.
And Eragon nearly fell over his own feet.
"Fuh -"
"Now, now, Rider."
"Erm…funny seeing you here, sir?" Eragon finished sheepishly.
The man in front of him raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"Fine, so I was cussing," Eragon mumbled. "I've just had a really bad day."
"No excuse, Rider," Morzansson said, but a hint of a smirk was starting to show on his face.
"Sorry," the brunet bit his lip.
Morzansson chuckled.
"I – do you know Japanese as well sir?" Eragon asked almost timidly.
"I took some classes in high school. I might be getting a little rusty, but I recognize a curse when I hear one," the teacher shook his head amusedly. "Somehow, those are the things that always stick."
The brunet smiled sheepishly.
"Now, maybe you should head off to -"
Eragon had to laugh when Morzansson found himself interrupted by a ringer, one that was so close it had to be his. Because Eragon knew his own, what he was hearing wasn't it.
-Deep in prayer my cross to bear
I kneel upon the floor-
"Excuse me for just one moment," Morzansson said tensely as he pulled a cellular out of his pocket.
-Temptations of a…-
"I swear, when I get hold of you, you will regret the day you were born," Morzansson growled into the cell that he had hastily opened.
From where he was standing, Eragon could hear whoever was on the other line laugh. And the brown eyed teen couldn't help but to snigger quietly too.
"No, that joke was not funny. You should be glad none of my colleagues heard it," The older man said angrily.
The laughter became louder. And Eragon could faintly hear the reply. Something about someone not believing Murtagh didn't have it on silent.
"Well, you said you would call, you bastard," Morzansson growled. "If it's the last thing I do, I swear I'll kill you."
Eragon bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud, and signalled he would be going.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Rider," Morzansson said absently.
But Eragon couldn't help but to frown when the laughter suddenly increased again, and when Morzansson's curses doubled. He had a feeling he knew that laughter. He just shook his head and went to class.
His next classes passed rather quickly. But one thing kept bugging him. Be it fellow students or a teacher, they were all asking the same thing.
"Eragon, are you okay?"
"The next person who asks me that I'll push into the cafeteria's weekly surprise meal." The brunet said with a glare.
"Well, if people keep asking you, then there must be a reason behind it," Saphira said.
"You seem moodier," Arya commented with a half-shrug.
Eragon sighed.
He couldn't explain why, but he had been in a rather down mood ever since that guy, whom he had started to call Vaintard in his mind, had come up to him just a few hours earlier. Not even Morzansson's ringer had kept his spirits high for long.
"I just…I don't know. There's just this guy that keeps bugging me," Eragon said with a sour undertone.
Arya and Saphira shared a glance.
"If I hadn't known better, I would say you're actually looking better. Just a week ago you wouldn't even have blinked, much less been bothered if Aliens came and probed you," Arya said with a slightly crocked eyebrow.
"I - really?" Eragon killed the snappish remark before it even got on his tongue.
Saphira nodded.
"You actually seem…happier. Ever since he showed up at the bookstore," she clarified.
The brunet frowned.
"Yeah," Arya said. "If he hadn't I doubt you would have spared Thorn and Nas a second glance the other day, much less talked to them."
Eragon felt his eyes widen. He hadn't actually been that low…had he? A wave of past depression told him that, yes, he had been.
"I…"
"No, Eragon, don't go down there," Saphira warned him.
But it was too late. Eragon could feel everything returning. It was as if, somehow, he had forgotten why he had been miserable, why he never really bothered to eat anymore. Why there was a little pin that kept puncturing his heart, which now seemed to come back with reinforcements.
"I…how? How could I have forgotten?" he whispered.
"You didn't. You were finally moving on…somehow. Oh, what have we done?" Saphira cried worryingly.
A headache really was coming now, a painful and attention-capturing one. It couldn't be a good thing. When had he last eaten?
"-agon. Talk to us! - something!"
And everything went black. What was funny was that he could still hear everything that was going on around him. And his arm was hurting. When had that happened?
"- ing on here?"
"Morzansson! You…help us! He…"
"Rider!"
"-gon. Can you…us?"
"- help. Take his…drive him…"
"ERAGON!"
-:-
Slowly he could feel himself waking up. But something was off.
"Eragon…Eragon…can you hear me?"
The smell…it didn't smell like his room. The beddings were too coarse to be his own. And there was an annoying beeping that kept ringing inside his head. He blearily opened his eyes.
"Eragon!"
He instantly closed them. A hospital, of course that was where he was.
"Hey, I know you're awake. Open those eyes."
Eragon hesitantly complied.
Arya stared down at him, a displeased look on her face. Her arms were crossed, and her fingers drummed repeatedly against her forearms.
"You were in shock. You fainted," Arya said disappointingly. "Haven't you been sleeping?"
"I have!" the brunet piped up.
"Are you sure?" Arya nearly growled.
"Yes," Eragon stressed.
"Then I don't know what!" Arya sighed. "But you totally blacked out. Morzansson had to drive you here! You scared a hell of a lot of people yesterday."
"Wait, yesterday? It's Tuesday?"
"Yup."
That wasn't Arya's voice. Eragon didn't have much time to think who it might be until a blonde blur was by his side, hugging him to death.
"I'm fine, Saph," He breathed.
Saphira answered by punching his arm.
"Obviously not! You dolt!" Saphira nearly screeched. "Worrying us like that."
"It's not like I meant to," Eragon protested.
"We know Eragon. But still…I'm this close to punching you again! In the head this time," the blonde said with a small glare.
"I – I don't know what happened."
"Alright, when did you last eat?" Arya asked.
Eragon fell silent.
"I can't remember."
"WHAT?" Arya and Saphira shouted.
"I'm sorry! But I can't," the brunet responded loudly.
"No wonder you fainted," Saphira said and shook her head. "You need food to work, Eragon."
"It's not like I did it on purpose!" Eragon almost snapped.
"One could wonder, with everything that's been going on lately," Arya murmured.
Eragon fell silent again. He could clearly remember what they had been talking about before he had blacked out. But he still found it hard to believe. Especially as he was lying there in clothes that was not his and in a bed that had been used God knew how many times. And he didn't know what he was feeling anymore. Could be possibly have gotten over Morzansson, just like that? Or had something else happened, that had made him forget what he was feeling? He wasn't really sure of anything anymore.
"You know…we aren't the only one who were worried silly about you," Saphira said as she sat down by the side of his bed.
"Yeah, I'd imagine Garrow had to hold Roran back from knocking some sense into my head even if I was still out if it," Eragon murmured absently.
Arya laughed quietly.
"Not what Saph was talking about, but you're right," she said.
"Huh?" Eragon asked, feeling confused.
"Why, Morzansson of course. He practically carried you here, insisted on driving in fact," Arya commented nonchalantly.
"I…so?" Eragon blinked. "A student had blacked out. Of course a teacher would worry."
Arya cursed under her breath as Saphira slapped a hand to her forehead.
"Unbelievable," The blonde sighed.
"What?" the brown eyed teen asked.
"Nothing," Saphira said with a slight irritation in her voice.
"Right," Eragon said sceptically.
"We don't have the time to argue right now," Arya said and walked over to them. "Let's get you out of here, yeah?"
Eragon nodded and stood up. He didn't mind getting out of there. He could feel the huge gap that the clothes he wore came with. And he'd rather not expose his ass longer than he needed to.
But just as he had changed out of the embarrassing clothes, Arya told him with a huge grin that Roran and Garrow had come to pick him up. And as he had predicted, Roran had had to be held back from attacking him when Eragon stepped out of the hospital. His cousin's dark eyes were aflame with anger and worry, which almost gave him a comical look. Garrow however had a neutral mask on his face, only a furrow on his forehead spoke of his worry. His eyes were clouded in thoughts.
The ride home mostly went by in silence. Roran had been forced to sit up front with Garrow. The blond hadn't said a word so far, probably due to a sound talk-to from his father before coming to the hospital.
"I'm fine, uncle," Eragon said softly into the silence.
"I can imagine that was why I got the call that my nephew had collapsed in the hallway yesterday," Garrow replied; his frown visible in his voice.
"I'm sorry, uncle," Eragon mumbled. "But not even I know why I blacked out."
"I can -"
"You cannot," Garrow interrupted his son. "Eragon, didn't the doctor tell you anything?"
"Well, they thought I hadn't been sleeping at first. But I have! So now they think I hadn't been eating enough," Eragon answered meekly.
"Very well. You will eat more often and better from now on. I don't want any more calls telling me that my nephew has collapsed again," Garrow said with finality, though an emotion was only half-concealed in his voice.
Eragon bowed his head. A half smile entered his face. Garrow wasn't disappointed in him, he had just been worried. But if he continued to eat as badly, Eragon knew that the worry would shift to disappointment in a second.
They arrived home ten minutes later. Garrow ushered them inside and locked the door behind them. Next he went into the kitchen, something that surprised both Roran and Eragon, and barked that the dinner would be ready in a half-hour. Eragon wasn't really surprised to feel himself be dragged to his room a second after that. Roran sat him down on his bed, opting to stand before him instead of sitting.
"So…want to tell me what's going on?"
Eragon sighed. Roran had looked worried for the past few weeks, but he had managed to escape being interrogated until now.
"Nothing's going on, Roran," he answered emotionlessly.
"Bullshit," Roran said tensely. "And by the look on Saphira and Arya's faces, they know. So, what do they know?"
"I…" Eragon paused. "I've just hit a rather rough part of being a college student I guess."
"Right," the blond rolled his eyes. "Forgotten that I've been down that same road? Hell, you saw me when I was finishing my Master. I couldn't have been further gone. No, this is something different."
Roran sat down beside him. Eragon had to look away from his searching eyes. They were close, practically brothers. He had never hesitated in sharing anything with the blond before. Roran knew his orientation and had been there during the time he had started to accept himself for who he was. Why was he hesitating now?
"I…I have a crush alright?"
Only silence greeted him for a while. Then…
"That's it?" Roran snorted. "That can't be all. Who is it? Tell me."
"It's…" Eragon bit his lip.
"Hey, no backing away now," Roran said playfully, looping an arm around the younger's shoulders. "Who is it? Tell me so that I can kick his ass for turning you down."
Eragon laughed softly.
"He hasn't turned me down, Roran. And he doesn't have to," the brunet mumbled.
"Why not? He's straight? I doubt that'd apply to a girly boy like you."
Eragon growled mock-angrily and took a swipe at Roran. The blond proceeded to laugh loudly and leaned forward to tickle his cousin. Eragon scooted out of the way before he could.
"Come on, Eragon. I won't laugh at you," Roran said, suddenly switching back to being serious.
Eragon stopped laughing and looked deep into his cousin's dark blue eyes. He bit his lip and sighed again.
"I promise Roran, that once I've gotten over this, you'll be the first I tell," he said with a half smile.
"Or when you've hooked up with him," Roran added innocently. "Though, I don't mind if you're scarce on the details. It's okay that you're gay, but I don't need a running commentary."
"Oh, and here I was looking forward to telling you the basics of foreplay," Eragon said with a mock pout.
Roran was quickly out of the room, hands over his ears and laughing loudly. Eragon snorted to himself.
A/N End Part One.
Hehe, cookies to those that can recognise Murtagh's ringtone! If anything, you can review just to ask me why the hell I used that one XD Though, as if it isn't obvious? :lol: But if you can't recognise it, then that's fine :wink: Not everyone has my crazy taste after all!
But to the point. Did you like the story? :wink: It's a little overdue, but it was the first I finished that I was completely satisfied with. But don't fear, I have more that's being written as we speak. I just need to :sigh: finish those, that's all.
Also, to everyone that's might be wondering why Eragon refers to Murtagh as Morzansson, here are the reasons: a) Murtagh's his teacher, b) Eragon's too shy and in love to address him any differently, and c) when he does switch it to Murtagh, it will be due to changes that happens between them. But just what that is I won't reveal until the second part of the story is out!
And if you know ASPD (Anti-Social Personality Disorder) better than I do, and therefore see some mistakes in what I included here, let me know! I'm by no means an expert in it.
More will be up next weekend, but not before I'm afraid. The exams are in barely 2 weeks for me, and I have to read during the week. But that's all for now.
