Slowly he walks tiptoed back to his usual corner, and tripped on one of the floor electrical outlets and fell to his knees, but got up quickly, oh thank god there wasn't a table there, that could've been worse ahaha, ha... ha... finding his corner as sat the table, he crossed his arms on the table, and nested his head in them, cheek squished on top his left elbow. His neck with kill him in the morning, but this was currently the best and most comfortable posture he could come up with without needing to lie on the floor or on top of the table. He looked up from his arms to make sure his backpack was beside him before he rested his head again, closing his eyes and hopefully for a peaceful slumber.





















   With a small yawn he walked into the closest library at ten in the morning, backpack in hand. Glancing around he could see other students he vaguely recognizes at tables already doing what he's planning to do: study.

   He nodded in greeting to the librarian at the desk who smiled at him before reading to their computer. He looked at all the tables, every one of them having at least one or two people at them, he frowned, he'd prefer to have a table to himself, empty. He shrugged, wandering deeper into the library, trying to find a more secluded area to study, it'd be better to find a place with the least distraction.

He skimmed over the spines of books as he walked between the shelves he wandered past, looking at the genre written on board between shelves. ...American History; European History; Medicine; Neurology; Psychology; Greek Mythology; Norse Mythology–

Passing by the mythology section near the seemingly back of the library, he spotted tables at the opposite end seen between the tall shelves. From sneak peek, they seemed empty. Score. Walking down the shelves, he emerged on the other side, and found a small space, a standing lamp to counter back the fact of the poor lighting in this area, and a table with chairs. From the shelves the table had seemed empty, but standing before it-

"Shit." He cursed, seeing someone already occupying the table. Guess I'll have to find another one damnit- wait a second- About to turn away, he did a double take on who was sitting at the table. With furrowed eyebrows, he snuck closes to the figure sleeping at the table. Settled on crossed arms with a squished cheek, was Nakamoto Fucking Yuta.

   He jolted back, as if electrocuted. What the fuck is Yuta doing here- he looked at the empty table and the zipped backpack, sleeping? Not studying? He looked around. No one was wandering around in this area, he shelves booked this area pretty well. He looked at the empty table. Looking at the pros and cons... the pros being it's quiet, no one to really to disturb him, secluded, enough space; but the con: Yuta's here. But then there's another pro: Yuta's here, asleep.

Minutes later his laptop, notebook, and textbook are laid out in front of him and he's deep in his studying, glancing over at the Japanese next to him who's eyelashes laid on his cheeks prettily, black hair close to his eyes from where it stuck out from beneath the orange beanie he wore, hair a bit too long to be contained inside loosely. He looked peaceful, softer, with the crème coloured hoodie he wore. He looked away quickly, he isn't going to be distracted.



















   Despite being deep in his studying, typing and hugging and writing down notes, his eyes didn't miss the small movement at the edge of his vision. He froze, looking to his left as the Japanese made a small hum-like whimper as he stretched out his arms, cheek falling to the cool tabletop, eyes still closed. After a short stretch, legs stretched in front of him beneath the table, his lashes fluttered, eyes blinking open.

   He watched as Yuta blinked once, twice, close his eyes, before his eyes shot open and he jolted into a sitting position, his knee banging on the table. He cursed, holding his legs before turning back to the Chinese next to him, eyes wide, "What the fuck are you doing here!?"

   Sicheng looked at him unimpressed, leaning back in his chair, turning to face him, arm on the back of his chair, gesturing with the other to his set up of laptop and books in front of him, "Take a guess, smartass."

   Yuta frowned at him, glaring at him, but his lips sat in a pout.

   "What are you doing here? You're clearly not studying." Sicheng remarked, gesturing to his bag next to him, the empty space in front of him. "You have a perfectly good apartment to sleep in, why sleep here?

Yuta bit his lip. "None if your business." He snapped. He got up, nearly stumbled, but didn't, and picked up his bag. He disappeared into the shelves before Sicheng could stop him. He chuckled, it isn't often he gets to see the older when he wakes up, or hears the small grunts he makes when he stretches before opening his eyes that stay hooded, unable to properly stay open.

He shook his head. He needs to study. He turned back to sit properly, to focus on his work, after all, he does need to get higher marks than Yuta, he still needs to be taken down a notch after all. He snickered before looking back to his textbook, trying his best to ignore the lingering scent of vanilla that seemed to cover the place.




_________

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