Sins On The Skin

II.

"Does anyone have any idea what his or her thesis is going to be about? Just a general idea will do." The professor glared at the sheepish faces staring back at him. He shook his head in disbelief and saw a few heads lower in shame. That wasn't good enough. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not your kindergarten teacher and so, when I ask you a question, I expect a fucking answer. Am I clear?" The murmurs stopped but not a single student acknowledged his question with an answer.

"Crystal." A man in the back replied once he saw that no one else was going to do the honours. He was leaning against one of the decorative columns, an unlit cigarette hanging from his sculpted lips. Nathan stared at him without any amusement, daring him to say more, daring him to throw him off the edge.

The man with the scotch coloured eyes pushed himself away from the column, grunting slightly as he felt his bones ache from all the minutes he had spent standing like a kid in detention. His Johnny Cash t-shirt stretched across his muscles beautifully when he crossed his arms over his chest, making a few female students' eyes roll back dreamily. Needless to say, Mick enjoyed the attention. "So, do any of you know what the most important essay of your lives will involve?" He cleared his throat, stealing their attention from the walking headache.

The man in question raised his hand, a crooked smile playing at the corners of his full lips. "I do."

Nathan banged his hand against the metal desk he was sitting on, a mixture of frustration and amusement playing in his eyes. "Mick, for the last time, you are not a part of this class. You just come here to irritate me." For a moment, his students disappeared from his mind and he was free to relax and joke around with an old friend but nothing lasts forever.

Pray that misery doesn't miss you and if she does pray that she doesn't find you.

"And I do it so damn well."

"Indeed." Nathan agreed, his voice missing the amusement that laced Mick's. Misery found him, again, it appeared. "Don't you have somewhere to be? Isn't Clyde missing his Bonnie?"

"Bonnie and Clyde were American while Ax and I are British, your point is invalid." That earned a chuckle from Nathan which notified some of the pupils that it was okay to laugh at Mick's witty remarks.

Mick wouldn't admit it but even the mention of his best friend made the hatred he had for his good for nothing father grow. That kind of hatred was enough to make flowers wilt and life to diminish.

The professor flicked his wrist dismissively at him, nodding at one student who, apparently, had grown a pair and found a thesis theme. "Yes, Mr. Peters, please put me out of my misery."

The young adult stood awkwardly on his feet, his eyes shifting nervously around the amphitheatre. "I just wanted to ask if I could go to the bathroom."

Nathan groaned but he wasn't the least bit surprised. "Honestly, Peters, you and your brother are the reason why I contemplate killing myself every single day." He heard Mick laugh somewhere in the background but he chose not to pay him any attention. "If you want to go to the bathroom, you'll tell me the theme of your thesis." The student glared at his feet in response, the wheels turning inside his head. If one looked carefully enough, he could see a bit of smoke leaving his ears.

"How about you, Miss Hale, any ideas?" Nathan stood up from the desk, hating the fact that his slacks were probably wrinkled and needed ironing. He liked things to be in order, you see. Deep inside of him hid a child with Obsessive Compulsion, one that grew up too fast but didn't change his habits.

He stalked closer to his student, the twenty-two year old furiously scribbling something down on a piece of paper. "Yes, sir." Once he reached her desk, she handed over the piece of paper. Katrina Hale smiled victoriously as she saw the professor read her idea.