Escapade » z.m

49. I Hurt My Foot Real Bad And Thrice

Lucas wore it without wasting time, covering himself up with the blanket yet again. "Why are you walking like this?" He asked Zayn, seeing him sit on the chair. Zayn put both his legs on edge of the table and propped a book on his stomach, the light from the table lamp was enough for him to see. He had years of practice anyway.

He took the glasses from the table, examining them under the light and scrunching his nose. He rubbed them on his jumper and examined them again, squinting his eyes. "It was dark, I hadn't turned on any light other than this table lamp." Zayn said, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose. "And I couldn't see where I was going and stubbed my toe."

"Wow."

"Yeah, and then my books fell on it so it's gone, my foot."

"That's amazing." Lucas remarked, and looked at the window, it's hinges were visible through the fluttering curtain. "Wait, were you studying?" He asked, looking around at Zayn, who was writing something now.

"Yeah." Zayn said, without looking up.

"You have been waking up early since some days," Lucas acknowledged, a small smile on his lips. "Is it just to study? Until the exams?"

"No, not really." He said, lingering his gaze on Lucas. He looked reluctant to talk about it, but Lucas wasn't that very considerate about other's privacy and reservedness. He kept his gaze expectant and unwavering. Zayn caved in. "I'm just—well, I'm just trying to find some routine for myself, that is all." He said finally.

"Oh." Lucas faltered, he didn't know what he was expecting, but the answer was more sober than he thought it would be. "Good luck, I suppose, I'm going back to sleep."

"Yes, that's for the best."

"Can't agree more." said Lucas and turned his back at Zayn. "Good night, Zaynie boy." He said before pulling the blanket over his head.

"Wha—" Zayn's head whipped around, "Good night." He said with a sigh, hearing Lucas feigning a snore, louder than it was necessary.

.

"HEY!"

Zayn looked up from his book, the fork stopping halfway from his mouth. Every towered above him, shadowing the scant sunshine coming through the window, and looking rather uncomfortable standing with her books pressed to her chest.

Zayn hastily shuffled in his seat, not wanting to make her wait anymore. He was all over the place, his earphones were tucked in, music blaring in his ears so he could drown all the white noise of screeching chairs and students muttering in much higher decibels than what was the limit of human ears. His book was opened in his lap, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, and his lunch was getting cold too.

In his haste, he yanked the earphones out, by god's grace not ruining the earpiece and kept his fork down, standing up with his chair screeching loudly on the floor.

First thing that happened was his book falling off his lap, landing on his feet with a thud. He stifled a scream, squeezing his eyes shut. Second thing that added fuel in his burning embarrassment was him bending to remove the weight from his hurt leg, and colliding head first with Every, who had decided to do the same.

"Ouch, sorry, I'll—" He hunched again, trying to get the book, but Every bent down with him. "Oh, sorry." He straighted immediately, seeing Every do the same. "Eve—" He started to bend down, his leg screaming in pain.

Every held him by his shoulder. "Zayn." She chuckled half heartedly. "Let me, okay? I'll get it, you're obviously in other world." She said, and massaged her forehead, bending down and retrieving the book.