tape → narry au

14 → fustian

Fustian:
pretentious talk or writing.

Friday morning arrived signalling that another group session has come upon me once again. The automatic thought awoke me before the suns rays could.

I slowly sat up from my mattress, feeling a mixture of arsed along with sleepy. The two negative traits telling me I'm in no mood to leave the comfort of my cabin nor bed.

But I had to anyways.

I sighed as I finally got out of bed. The crabby trait still remaining, now joint with the feeling of accomplishment. The warmth of achievement clearer than ever before over something so simple. As simple as getting out of bed.

It dispersed once I heard Niall grumble from the left side of the cabin. My eyes then following the familiar sound to my multicoloured hair roommate, his hair laid flat against his forehead, blue eyes still as electrifying in the morning as they are during the day and the night, and his skin its usual pale colour.

"Hello to you too, Niall," I greeted with an amiable smile.

Niall laughed his loud and contagious laugh before removing the duvet from his body.

"Morning Harry," he greeted back.

I stuck out my tongue whilst waving at the taller figure advancing towards me.

"Another session," Niall carped before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

I nodded, though he couldn't see me.

I walked over to the wardrobe to choose clothing for the day. The choice of joggers and a shirt simple and settling.

By the time Niall exited from the bathroom I was already prepared for the Friday and for whats in store for it.

Walking into the bathroom once Niall exited it. Our shoulders brushed slightly at the close contact but I as well as he ignored it, focusing on getting for group session.

Group session doesn't thrill me in an adrenalised way. I'm not sure whether it's the two hour duration of session that's the burden or having to remain seated for the two hour duration. Either or, group sessions are far from thrilling.

Instead, it's more taut. Not having a choice to object to any of Miss Siddle's commands. They're aren't deadly, fatal rules but, not having power to choose who you want to discuss your "problems" with for a whole two hours is far from relaxing at all. Then again maybe that's her goal..?

A light pounding sound from the other side of the door brought me from my thoughts.

"Yes?" I called out to the person pounding on the other side of the bathroom door.

"I'm going to the canteen," Niall announced. "I'm almost sure you don't wanna go. Do you want anything from there, though?"

"No," I answered back thoughtlessly. The thought of ingesting a plate worth of breakfast caused my stomach to turn. The stomach that I desire to dissipate.

"Okay," Niall called back.

I could hear his lingering footsteps before they faded along with the sound of our entrance door closing.