Back To The Beginning ➪ Tronnor

07 ◦ The Emergency

07 ◦ THE EMERGENCY

BLACK - is associated with power, elegance, formality, death, evil, and mystery. Black is a mysterious colour associated with fear and the unknown (black holes). It usually has a negative connotation.

It didn't take long for the relentless questioning to occur, it was almost as soon as they stepped out of the door of the lecture hall that Marie began firing questions, and he's sure she has a whole lot more after the length of time they were allowed to brew.

"So, are you going to tell me where you were and why you look like you didn't do very much sleeping?" She asked suggestively, quirking her brow.

"I was looking after someone, they were sick." He answers coolly, hoping that Marie would leave it there. Even though he knows she's practically a detective when it comes to these situations.

"Who's 'someone'? And why do I get the feeling you're hiding something?" She fires more questions as the nerves in Connor's stomach resurface.

"You know Jamie from down the hall? He has some kind of stomach bug." Connor lied, averting his eyes from his friend's, scared she might see his lying in the reflection of his green eyes.

"That's so kind of you! Oh, and you know what! I heard Troye was sick as well, maybe you should go and offer to help him too tonight?" She teased playfully, signifying Connor's luck had expired.

"Oh fuck off!" Connor joked, shoving Marie just as playfully as she had teased him, as they walked to go and grab some lunch.

Meanwhile, Troye had never felt worse in his life. He was currently sat in the corner of the library at one of the small tables, coughing his lungs out. He felt horrible for disturbing the tranquil silence of the library more than anything but he simply could not stop coughing and every time he did the pain in his chest continued to grow and grow — it had crossed the borderline of unbearable a few minutes ago. Not to mention, his whole body was shaking like he was freezing even though he was burning up like he had been set on fire.

He, of course, had been stubborn about missing class and had decided that he would wait and kill the time between classes there. He couldn't afford to lose his precious class time, after all, his whole scholarship was practically riding on him getting some of the best grades in the class. That wouldn't happen unless he actually physically went to his classes. He spent his first hour trying to figure out if the heating and cooling system of the lecture hall was broken because he could've sworn that the temperature in the room fluctuated more times than he could count. He also spent most of the time clutching his chest as the pain grew in intensity — it felt like someone was kicking him every time he coughed.

When the time finally rolled around to five in the evening he had to hoist himself out of the chair and across the campus to his next class. It was quite possibly the worst experience of his life, every single person he passed looked at him like he had grown two heads and he had to stop five times to lean against something, in fear he would pass out on the hard concrete. But, he was determined or stupidly stubborn as trudged onwards, by the time he reached the building, his lungs were burning and a three-minute long coughing fit ensued. He could barely get enough air into his lungs as he gasped between coughs. His throat was burning as he desperately tried to get the oxygen into his system but his fit was not letting up.

His vision became blurred at the edges as he reached out to grab a hold of anything that would stop him from falling. He realised that he probably should have just taken the day off at that point, but he was far too stubborn and far too scared of the consequences of not maintaining his scholarship to even think of that.

He willed his feet to keep moving — left foot, right foot — as he tried to climb the small set of stairs to make it to the second floor. Breathe in, breathe out. But to no avail, the pain in his chest made it feel as though his rib cage had splintered and the shards were stabbing him every time his god damned coughing fit came back again. He would only grab a tiny breath of air after each cough but it felt as though the phlegm in his lungs was too thick to breathe through.