Attachments (Tronnor AU)

Cadge

transitive or intransitive verb

       • to beg or get by begging.

Connor wakes up late that morning, drawn into a deeper slumber than usual by the warm weight draped across him.  He flits his eyes open to a sun already risen high in the sky, burning bright to signal the dawning day and the fact that he's most definitely already late for class. Groaning, he casts his gaze back to the boy curled half across his chest and wonders whether he should wake him.

In the end, he decides against it. Connor slips out from under Troye with as much care as he can manage, gently resting the younger man's head on the armrest as his socked feet creep across the hardwood floors. Managing to make himself moderately presentable in as little time as possible, he hesitates by the door just to catch one final look at the beautiful storm brewing on his couch.

College, he remembers the moment he finally enters the building, is definitely not Connor's favourite place on Earth. The halls are relatively empty during this particular stretch of time and he really only passes five other students on his way to the editing suite, but each one reminds him that he would much rather be somewhere else with someone else.

Connor sinks into his seat with a wince and an apologetic look directed towards his frowning professor.

Beside him, Bethany hums in disapproval. "Late again? That's the second time this month."

He shoots her a dismissive glance, dropping his bag onto the floor beside him and digging through it for his harddrive, booting up the computer as he goes. Connor doesn't really give her words much thought, nor does he focus on the oddly snippy tone of her voice, but maybe he really should.

She curls her lip, an expression of dissatisfaction that Connor fails to catch. "And now you're ignoring me. Well, nothing new there, I guess. I mean, seriously? Did you even look at my texts?"

Blinking, Connor finds himself caught off guard and pausing halfway through plugging his harddrive into the school's high-tech computer. It's a rare thing for Bethany to be annoyed with him, or anyone really, and for it to be over something as tiny as not responding to a few of her texts is undoubtedly surprising. She's usually one of the most understanding and respectful in their rather large group of friends. Connor goes to her with his issues when he hasn't gone to his mom first.

"Sorry?" he replies, the statement coming out more as a question than he'd intended it to. Bethany rolls her eyes and doesn't respond, turning back to the beauty shots she's editing.

Frowning, Connor focuses his attention on the nature photography that's slowly loading itself up on his own screen. He tries to ignore the uncomfortable aura radiating off the girl beside him, but it's a little hard with her aggressively tapping her nails against the laminated desk.

And then, right at the end of class and after nearly two full hours of silence, she whips back to face him with a tight expression on her face and a nasty tone to her voice. "Why the hell is this fucking charity case of yours suddenly more important than anything else? He's a street rat and a drop-out. Like, I just don't get it. So, you think he's hot? Great, bang him and move the fuck on already. I mean, seriously, Connor. You've been ditching us every day for months just to go spend time with some beggar who's probably just, like, mooching off you or something. And we've all been nice and not said anything but enough's enough, okay?"

Bethany scowls. Connor stares. Her nails click across the table impatiently. His heart sinks into his stomach, catches fire, and rises right back up into his chest.

"Wow," he says, pursing his lips and clenching his jaw as he turns to finish shutting down his computer and packing his things back into his bag. "You know, I never would have thought you'd turn out to be such a cruel, inconsiderate fucking bitch."

Her eyes go wide as saucers, clearly not expecting such a virulent response from someone who's generally viewed as the kindest in their group. She opens her mouth, a frown furrowing her features into something almost apologetic, but Connor cuts her off before she gets the chance to speak.

"And I don't just think Troye's hot or want to screw him or whatever," he snaps because he feels like it's important. "I love him, okay? And the fact that you could say such absolute bullshit about someone you've never even met, someone I think the world of because he's a fucking amazing human being, is frankly disgusting. You're right, I haven't been spending as much time with you guys lately. I'm sorry, okay? Maybe if you'd just fucking said that like a normal human being rather than backhandedly slapping me with it while simultaneously calling my boyfriend a useless asshole, I would have fucking listened and tried to make more time for you. Now? Now I'd frankly rather not talk to you at all. Grow up, Beth."

It's with a chair slammed back into place under the desk and an angry swing of his bag across his shoulders that Connor makes his exit, not bothering to look back even as his so-called friend blinks after him in stupor.