Mike felt a sense of power, no remorse, none at all.
If you asked him, he would've done it again.
He loved that feeling, as it burned through his veins whilst he walked to his class, his pulse, now steady, thudding in his ears, the beat that keeps him alive, keeps him thriving.
Keeps him protecting Will.
•••
Troy stood in the doorway, staring at Mike hardly. Mike pretend to not noticed the boys presence, causing even more rage to course through Troys blood. He wiped his nose, the back of his hand now a dark red, and started towards Mike, wiping aside the gaping mouths of the students on seeing his bruised state.
Mike glanced at Will, seeing him hold the sides of his chair furiously so his knuckles turned pale.
Troy stopped at Mikes desk. He breathed in and out heavily through his nose. There was a crazed look in his eye. Mike refused to recognise him.
Troy placed his hands heavily down on either side of Mikes desk, causing Will to visibly flinch next to him. It took Mike all of his power to not shudder.
Breathing in deeply, he looked up, "Oh- hey there Troy! How're you?" He jeered, smiling.
Troy sneered, slightly taken aback.
"Oh my- what on earth happened to your face?" Mike continued to mock, reaching out to touch Troy's scabbed check, earning a smack on the hand, forcing it away from him.
"Gee, my bad. Should've known not to touch you." Mike finished flatly, no humour left in his tone.
Troy's breathing slowly became even again, as he said, barley above a whisper, "This isn't over Wheeler."
And left the class room.
Mike let out a breath he was not aware to have been holding in.
•••
"Mike..." the voice rang out in his head, the voice sounded as if it were underwater, drowning in the sea of unwanted anxious thoughts, pooling in his mind, creating a tsunami, waiting to crash to the shore, and flood its boundaries.
"Mike!" The voice was no longer underwater now, it was our, ranging clear through his mind, the sea had disappeared, for now anyways.
Mike removed his hand from his face, where it had been for the past half hour or so, and looked at his teacher, who was urging him to notice that he was being called upon. He he noticed quickly that the whole class stared at him too. Other than Will, who kept his gaze firmly on his hands, as always.
"I-I'm sorry Mr.Clarke, what was the question again?" He replied clearing his throat at the whispers exchanged by his peers, whispers about him.
"What must red blood cells have to respire?"
Oh crap.
Mike had not done his revision last night, instead, he sat on his couch in the basement, staring into nothingness, listening to the rain, thinking about Will, the sea in his head roaring, creating minor head aches every now and then.
"Uhh..." Mike breathed out, small laughs began to rise from his class mates, he could feel Lucas and Dustin sharing disapproving glances.
Mike shifted nervously in his seat, any display of courage he had shown earlier was now a mere memory. That boy was gone now.
Mr.Clarke sighed and when to find the next projector slide.
Mike but his lip and looked down in embarrassment, as something slid across his desk.
A note.
Mike picked it up and opened it slowly, wandering if it were even for himself.
'Oxygen and glucose' was scrawled on the note in neat, small writing.
"Oxygen and glucose." Mike said aloud, causing Mr.Clarke to turn and nod in approval.
"Very good Mike, thank you for putting that thinking cap of yours on."
Mike sighed in relief, something he had gotten into a habit of recently.
He turned to see who the note was, looking to see the bored looks of his class mates all on the board ahead, none on him. Not even Dustin or Lucas had turned to acknowledge it.
He turned to Will, who was also looking at the board, not at his hands this time.
Mike furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and looked at the note thoughtfully.
He looked at the note so contently he missed the small look Will gave him, and the sadness in his eyes as he stared at him.
The want in his eyes too.
•••
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