Dark Hedges

The Fate of Anna Karenina

The Mauve Letters' newsroom was surprisingly demure. Unlike the rest of campus, which embraced traditionalism and considered the past as some sort of treasure that needed to be protected, the offices for Royalwood's newspaper breathed modernity into the otherwise conservative institution.

Entirely white, from the walls to the floor, the offices seemed more hospital than newsroom. Still sleeping desktop iMacs patiently waited for their writers to arrive, two per desk, partners in the hectic rush of reporting. Simple and uncomfortable-looking black chairs rested in front of the desks, or perhaps behind them.

Taking a quick glance at his watch, he saw that seven quickly approached. Straightening in his own black and uncomfortable chair, he looked down at the binder laying in his lap, which contained samples of his work. To him, writing meant salvation, a way to make up answers for questions he didn't know how to ask. In fiction, he found a home. And despite the trouble with illusion, he developed a romance with letters, a fascination for delusion. The facts of existence became less appealing with each new day that passed.

Steps made him snap out of himself. A young man entered the room, carrying a stack of newspapers. His square face sported a full set of dishevelled chocolate hair, making it seem as if he just got out of bed. His small, green eyes squinted behind a pair of oval-shaped glasses and as he stumbled through the desks, Teddy thought he looked like a rather cute clown in an extremely poor balancing act. 

"Need some help with that?" Teddy asked, standing up and walking towards him.

"That's very kind, thank you," the boy replied using an intensely pronounced English accent and allowing Teddy to take half the newspapers. "Over there's fine."

The boy pointed to the table on the other side of the room and they crossed the space silently. Dropping the papers on the desk, the boy released a sigh and pretended to wipe the non-existent sweat from his forehead.

"I thought I wouldn't make it," he said, leaning against the table. "Elton said 'Be here before seven or else.' My alarm didn't go off, but something woke me up just in time." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. "Well, almost. I didn't have time to shower. Is it too obvious?"

Teddy's eyes went from the boy's cluttered hair all the way to his leather loafers but found no indication of his lack of shower. Shaking his head, Teddy saw a smile of relief lighting the boy's face, forming two very charming dimples on his cheeks.

"I'm Teddy." Their hands met and the boy's cold skin send a shiver down Teddy's back.

"I know. I'm Stuart Winslow." He went quiet, as if expecting Teddy to say something. When he didn't, the boy continued. "I'm the guy in whose room you sleep now."

Teddy scowled, his eyes squinting. "I'm sorry?"

Stuart smiled at his confusion. "I was a Stag for two years. Then you and that Patrick kid came and things changed. This other guy, Wesley, he and I lost our spots in the Dominion."

"I see." The frown in Teddy's face deepened. "How did you know I sleep in your old room?"

A rosy tone brightened Stuart's cheeks. "Oh, well..." he scratched the back of his head as those alluring dimples came back to his face. "Well, my... your room has a window, right? It leads to the Dark Hedges. So this one night, I was going back to my dorm and I decided to go by the Dominion, you know, sentimental stuff. So I was walking by and you had your window open and..." He giggled, his entire face crimson, his fingers dancing on the desk. "I sort of saw you changing. You should really close your windows. Anyone can see you."

"Maybe I like that." Teddy's words threw Stuart off balance. His eyes widened behind his glasses, his rounded eyebrows so high they almost touched his hairline. Biting his lower lip, Teddy sat on the desk, his feet balancing in the air. "But I get what you're saying. I'll be more careful next time. So did you like what you saw?"