FATE [BxB]

♥ 4 ♥

It is one of the rare times their schedules line up and they can have lunch together. Juleo can see two figures sitting beneath the Elm tree, conversing with jagged movements. There's coldness seeping into his lungs, and his body sags in defeat when they catch a glimpse of him.

It's all in good faith, he knows and appreciates it. He just doesn't want to deal with knowing he had let them down once again, made them worry for no particular reason.

The last heat of summer coaxes Juleo forward, grass a welcoming bed of nature. He rests his back on the ancient bark, feeling the teeters of curious insects dancing around.

Faraway chirps of birds are replaced by a gruff voice.

"I'm gonna beat your ass so hard, you fuckface–"

"Have you even slept–"

"Do you know how sick Em was worrying about you–"

"Woah, don't drag me into this. You were the one worried sick."

"Me? You were ready to call a neighborhood search for him!"

"That's because you said you'd call the cops!"

Juleo twitches, disturbed by their bickering. "Guys... I'm fine..."

The arguing couple turn to glare at Juleo.

"And I'm the queen of Atlantis!" Emma growls out, clawing her sharp nails inside her bag in search of something.

"Leo, you could've come to our place." Jamie sighs, sharing a look with his girlfriend.

"Well, I didn't need it at the moment but I'll remember that in the future." The boy in question gives a strained smile, fingers curling the hairs at his nape.

"Liar, liar pants on fire. Catch."

Juleo barely manages to catch the paper bag.

Jamie rolls his eyes, "You couldn't have passed it like a normal person?"

She shrugs, trying to hide her smile when Juleo's eyes light up.

"I thought they stopped making these?" Juleo gapes, quickly unraveling the object.

"I saw some being sold on their website. So naturally," She waves her hands around as if that explained everything.

It's a leather-bound sketchbook that Juleo had been salivating over for a year. The reviews had lured him into a rabbit hole of handbound notebooks. It's expensive as well. There's an uncomfortable lull in his stomach – he can't figure out if it's because of guilt or hunger.

"Em, this is perfect." His words are a whisper among the rustle of leaves.

"I know, love." She smiles, leaning her head on Juleo's shoulder while he flips through the smooth pages.

Jamie pouts, "I'm feeling a bit left out over here." There's no jealousy in his voice. Juleo pats the spot next to him.

He's content. The shade of the tree only blocks patches of light but it's not uncomfortable – the way light falls onto pages, his hands, their faces. Summer is waning and he's content. Because he has two worry-filled heads resting on his shoulders.

Life is bearable just for a moment. His heart is at ease just for a moment.

The quaint is broken by hurried footsteps of their peers, a mix match of colors breaking Jamie away from them. Emma stands as well, waving her classmate over. She ruffles his hair affectionately before linking arms with her friend.

The trio don't need parting words. It's a mutual understanding that their separation is not desirable. Juleo doesn't have time to dwell on that thought because Roger pulls him up to his feet and he's too busy panicking about a forgotten assignment.

It's a flurry of steps when they make it out of their art class; art history to be exact. There are groans following Roger and Juleo down the hallway, murmuring of goodbyes.

"I can't wait for the oil painting classes to start. I'm terrible at watercolor." Roger says, arranging the loose sheet in his hands.

Juleo rolls his eyes, ready to knock sense into his friend's head but a quiet voice interjects.

"That's simply not true, is it? I think you're great at watercolor."

Roger's artic eyes widen, a light pink brushing the tips of his ears. "You're better than me, though–"

"I don't think comparing yourself to others is good." She tucks a string of orange hair behind her ears, falling into step with the two. "I've been working with watercolor since I was ten so I've got a head start. You just started it a few months ago. You're doing better than you think you are."

Her smile is radiant in the dimming world. She blinks, then tilts her head sideways. "Oh, I had a favor to ask... If you don't mind?"

"Y-Yeah, go ahead!" Rogers cringes at his tone, trying to hide his reddening face behind papers.

"I don't know how to fix this one part and I know you're good at color matching. So–"

The two have halted somewhere in the garden, staring at a piece. Juleo books the exit. The last thing he hears is a 'Yeah, let's go' and doesn't want to know more.