Oliver And William Queen One-Shots: The College Years

Our New Understanding (Part 1)

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William's pov...

"Beep, beep, beep," blared William's nightstand alarm clock, its incessantly annoying buzzing ringing through the young man's ears with a ferocity that was equal to that of a blow horn on New Year's Eve.

"Ugh...five more minutes," moaned William as he tiredly slapped the clock, though his lazy attempt at a hit missed miserably as the palm of his hand collided painfully with the corner of the tiny table.

He flinched slightly in pain, yanking his hand back under the covers with the rest of his body.

That's definitely going to bruise over.

The general definition of a person's personality tends to define whether they're an early bird or a night owl due to their typical tendencies towards certain activities. William was most certainly part of the early bird category, at least he was until he moved into his new college dorm, that is.

Honestly, I'm lucky now if I even get enough time to sleep for an hour before I have to head to my next class. But at least I'm not required to join an athletic group, only "strongly advised."

William sleepily threw the red comforter off his chest and legs, revealing the lanky arms and legs that lay beneath its protection. He was dressed in a slim fitting black t-shirt matched with loose gray flannel pants that went up to just above his ankles.

Never in my entire life have I slept without a shirt on and I'm most certainly not going to start in college.

"I would suggest getting a move on considering you have less than twenty minutes before robotical analysis class starts," scoffed a stout, dimpled man as he flipped casually through his gigantic white binder of mathematical calculations.

He was outfitted in a simple tan sweater vest paired with ironed black dress pants that looked way too oversized compared to the plump structure that was his body.

"Hahaha, very funny, Cato. But you're not going to fool me with that one again," stated William, rolling his eyes as he lazily pulled on the soft sleepers Felicity had recently sent him before stumble-walking into their dorm's small kitchen.

He may practically be a walking science book, but that doesn't mean some of us don't need sleep.

"Yes, I suppose that you're not that stupid," reasoned Cato, his eyes never wavering from the open page of the book that lay before him.

William took a deep breath, trying his very best to just let his roommate's jab go unnoticed.

Mom always taught me just to ignore people like him and, Dad...well, let's just say that his lesson of punching your enemy in the nose isn't really tolerated in this place. Or really any public-sanctioned area, in general.

William scratched the back of his head as he pulled open their small refrigerator's white door, revealing the baron shelves that consisted of its interior.

God, I really miss eating Dad's food every morning. Especially those cinnamon pancakes.

William sighed, grabbing a small plastic cup from near the kitchen sink and filling it up with its lukewarm tap water.

"Where did Andy go?" William asked his roommate as he leaned up against the marble barside counter before taking a soft slip of his drink.

The cold sensation of its liquidy solution felt soothing to his sore throat (which seems to be a common occurrence for me with how much I ramble when asked a question by any of my professors), yet somehow the feeling only reminded him just how much he needed a cup of coffee.